(2014….For a year I was trapped in some bureaucratic limbo awaiting medical coverage and had to buy my own seizure medication at retail prices. Financially it was as if our rent had instantly doubled. Everything we had went into buying my medication. This was written at some point in that year.)
So my primary epilepsy med is back to solid gold status, having jumped over thirty per cent in price in one mighty 24 hour leap. Shades of the Weimar Republic, though without Liza Minnelli. The med is now a touch over $3.50 a pill. That’s $42 per day. A nice little habit. The other pill I take is cheap, but then they use that for other wackos too, not just epileptics. It’s the epilepsy specific drugs that’ll nail you. A high class disability, epilepsy. Epicurean, even. We’re special. Too bad you can’t get disability for it. Well you can, but you have to roll around the floor thrashing a dozen times a day. Otherwise, being that you’re not actually mentally ill, you’re considered normal. Unusual, maybe, but normal. I should have picked something else. Depression is nice, I hear. Quiet. And schizophrenia is entertaining. Bipolar types get a lot done, well, sometimes. Plus all those guys can get medicare. Free meds. Even handicapped parking. I get solid gold pills, plus that certain je nais se quois that comes from being so goddamned expensive.
But I hear there’s an opening for a Getty heir.