A Little Vial of Novolog

There are plenty of bottles and cartons and vials of medication on the shelves and in the fridge of my local Rite Aid pharmacy. All I need (at least at the moment) is one little vial of insulin. A vial that’s smaller than my pinky and looks like it’s full of clear, clean water.
A vial that needs replacement each month.
A vial filled with the substance that keeps me alive.
A vial so simple, yet so full of angst.
I’m blessed to be able to have health insurance.
I’m blessed to have a pharmacy nearby.
I’m blessed to have ample technology to set my blood sugar straight.
I’m blessed to live in a country where medicine is available.
And yet despite, or maybe because of, all these blessings, today this little vial caused my grief.
I’m low on insulin. (No, not like hypo low, low as in I have about 80 units left and I’m about to go on a trip for two days.) I refilled my prescription over the phone, and went in today to pick it up. When the cashier rang up the print out, the total stared at me in shock. Or actually, I stared at the total in shock. Or in total shock. Anyway, not the point.
$448. Should I repeat that? $448. I called up my insurance and they said the problem should be fixed within 24-48 hours. However, as I said before, I’m leaving at 6:00am and won’t be back till Friday, at which point I doubt I’ll have much insulin left. The nice woman on the phone told me to pay out of pocket, and I could be reimbursed within 7 days by just giving the cashier my paperwork. Thank Gd was able to put those funds on to my card, and pick up my Novolog. On one hand, there’s nothing note valuable than life itself, so I guess I shouldn’t get so upset, but on the other hand, those dollars can be stretched very, very far.
It’s always exciting to start a new, clean, fresh, vial; I just wish it didn’t come along with such baggage.

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