Today, nearly 40 percent of a senior’s healthcare spending is on pharmaceutical medications.
~Dennis Hastert
Let me start this little post by saying that I hate taking medicine, but I take a number of prescriptions each evening because if I don’t, I can jeopardize my health. You might wonder what this has to do with travel, so let me tell you.
Packing
When I’m packing for trips, I spend days fretting over what to pack. “Did you make a list?” my husband always asks me. No, we’ve been married 47 years, and I have never answered “Yes” to that question, so I have no idea why he asks me that. I am not a list maker.
I make lists in my head; I know what I need to bring, and I rarely forget the important things. My six prescription medications are at the top of that important list. I usually pack one night’s pills in a baggy and the six bottles in a packing cube that I put in my carry-on. (TIP: Don’t ever put your medications in checked luggage.)
When I was packing for my current trip, Mike suggested I put all of my pills in one big bottle so I would not have six bottles taking up space in my luggage. No offense meant to my husband, but what works for him does not usually work for me. My brain is just not wired the same way his is. But having had to juggle those shimming bottles of pills every time I unpacked and packed my cases this spring drove me nuts, so I thought I’d take his advice.
I took one of the larger Rx bottles and put 60 each of five of the medications in it. The sixth med has pills that were too large, so they stayed in their case.
Things started out great, and I found the big bottle in the side pocket of my carry-on just where I had stuffed it earlier that day. I took out the pills I needed (not including the one med that I left in its own bottle), stuffed the bottle back in that side pocket, and threw the case back in the overhead bin.
Midway through my nine-hour connection in London, I remembered I had to take my thyroid medication. I sank into a most uncomfortable chair and opened the pocket where I had put the medication the night before, but I didn’t see the bottle. I pulled out the over-the-counter meds and ran my hand through the entire pocket. Nothing.
Panic didn’t set in immediately as I thought I had perhaps put that bottle in the other pocket by mistake. Nope. I dumped the contents of the entire bag on the chair. There were a lot of things, but that bottle of pills was not one of them. I opened every small packing cube I had so carefully put in that case, but I found only what I had originally placed in them.
It was then that I panicked.
The Medications
Of the six medications that I take daily, half are prescriptions that I can probably live without for a few weeks until Mike arrives later this month. The other three, though, I have to have. One is a cancer drug; one is for my thyroid; and the third, while not a life-saving drug, is one that has horrible side effects if one stops taking it abruptly.
In tears, I called Mike, and he suggested, “Go through the bag again.” I did, but there were no pills anywhere. I went to the British Airways service desk, and the lady there was oblivious. I explained the situation to her.
“Is there a lost-and-found department?” I asked her.
“There’s nothing I can do,” she replied not answering the question.
“Is there a lost-and-found department?” I repeated a little louder. “Maybe they found my pills on the floor or in the overhead bin and turned them in.” I was hoping that the cleaning staff would save me.
“No,” Miss Less-Than-Customer-Oriented answered me. “If they found them, they threw them out.” I don’t want to write what I thought, but you can imagine it was not very nice.
By Saturday morning, the headaches that accompany withdrawal from two of the drugs had started to affect me. In addition to a horrible headache, I was sick to my stomach. I decided I had to go to a pharmacy, but since we had come back from our day trip to Como late in the day, the pharmacies were all closed.
La Farmacia
After a day of exploring Milano, I hobbled to an open farmacia Sunday evening. As soon as the pharmacist asked me how he could help me, I started crying.
“I lost all of my medicine,” I sobbed. “I’m feeling so sick from not taking a few of them, and I don’t know what to do.”
He asked me for a list of the medications, and I showed him the pill bottle photos Mike had taken and texted me. That good man went back and got me all five of the missing medications. When he told me the total, I almost fell over.
The Cost
For four of the medications, he gave me a month’s supply. For the thyroid medication, he gave me a 50-day supply. My total bill was 87 euro, or about $96. The cancer drug, at 66 euro, was the most expensive. That 50-day thyroid medication was the least expensive at 2.25 euro ($2.47). These were costs for me, without insurance, and without mentioning that I am a citizen (I honestly forgot, although I don’t think it would have mattered).
I bring this up because, in addition to having co-pays for some of these drugs, we pay for the insurance that allows us to supposedly pay “less” than the retail price. When I looked up the US retail price for my particular thyroid medication and dosage, the cost ran from $0.67 to more than $2 per pill. Even at $.67 per pill, Americans are paying $33.50 for a 50-day supply…more than 16 times what I paid.
The cost of the cancer drug is even more mind-blowing. When I buy Letrozole in the US, I have a $30 co-pay for a 90-day supply. That is with my insurance. Without insurance, Letrozole can cost $843 for 10 (TEN!) pills. That is $84.30 per pill! The other aromatase inhibiters—anastrozole and exemestane—are not much better.
While I paid 66 euro for the letrozole here, the per pill cost is a more palatable $2.62.
A Couple of Tips
Even though my situation turned out well, I don’t recommend you forget or lose your medications. Make sure you pack them tightly so the bottle doesn’t break. Also make sure that you pack one night’s supply of pills separate from the others so you don’t chance losing the whole shebang.
It’s a good idea to have photos of the bottles that contain your medications on your phone. That will help a pharmacist immensely if you try to replace your lost pill. Also, don’t expect every pharmacist to be as accommodating as the one who helped me.
Next time: We Make Pizza!
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