I first realized something was amiss when I picked up my prescriptions and the pharmacist explained that she could not fill the anti-malarial medications as prescribed: “Your medication plan only pays for 30 days of pills, and your prescription was for five pills.” The pharmacist continued: “Your PBM [that’s an acronym for pharmacy benefits management company, the type of company that coordinates many peoples’ medication coverage] only fills this medication for 30 days at a time. And 5 pills would last 35 days.”
Expert logician that I am, I countered with some math of my own: “Well four pills, taken weekly, only lasts 28 days. If they really want to give me 30 days of coverage, they need to give me a fifth pill.” I thought it was insane to pay a whole extra co-pay to get my fifth and last pill, a co-pay I’d have to pay for my two sons too since all three of us were traveling together.
But the pharmacist was unpersuaded: “Sorry, four pills is it. You’ll need another prescription for the last pill.”
Irked, I handed over my credit card and hastily signed the bill, too bothered by the conversation to look closely at the bottom line.
When I got home and told my wife Paula about the saga of the fifth pill, she calmly looked at the bill and asked me: “If you were so concerned about a $10 co-pay, why didn’t you notice that the antibiotic you were given cost almost $200?”
Huh?
