Don't mean to climb up

on my soapbox so early in the New Year, but somebody has to stand up here

and shout about the injustice going on in the world to the little people.

I'm proud to be one of the little people, and "I can only stands

so much then I can't stands no more!"

What's got my feathers

ruffled? What's got me pulling out my hair now? I can answer that

question in one word: medical insurance. Well, okay, that's two words,

but you understand: it's downright frustrating.

Took The Boy to the doctor

the other day 'cause he was sick, and no, I wasn't cooking again.

After the exam, the doctor gave us a prescription for three medications

that would help to make him well. Simple enough, right? The Boy and I

dropped off the prescriptions at the drug store, and later, after getting

The Boy to bed, I went back out to pick them up. Simple enough, right?

The pharmacy counter is where it got interesting.

Most people have an HMO (Hand

Money Over) with some kind of prescription co-pay. The three options are

generic, non-formulated and formulated. Generic means, "This drug

is not really what the doctor prescribed, and it doesn't work as

well as the real thing, but the pharmacy has plenty of it." Co-pay

for a generic drug is only $10. Formulary means ... well, I don't

really know what it means. I've never seen a formulated drug. But

if I did it, would have a co-pay of $25. Non-formulated means, "This

is the good stuff - the stuff your doctor wants you to have to get

you well the fastest. You're gonna pay through the nose for it."

Co-pay for a non-formulated drug is $50.

Confused? Read on; it only

gets better.

The rest of the people have

what's called a PPO (Please Pay Over) with a prescription co-pay

of another kind. The three options with a PPO are generic, preferred,

and non-preferred. As with a HMO, the generic drug with a PPO is the same:

"This drug is not really what the doctor prescribed, and it doesn't

work as well as the real thing, but the pharmacy has plenty of it."

The co-pay is again $10. A preferred drug is "the one the insurance

company, but not necessarily the doctor, prefers you to have," and

its cost is $25. The last choice is the non-preferred one. This is the

one yours truly got stuck with.

The non-preferred option means,

"Whatever you do, you don't want this plan. If you choose it,

you will have to pay and pay and pay." Yep, that's what the

three prescriptions for The Boy fell under - non-preferred. It was

easy to understand when the nice man in the white lab coat explained it

to me. He was an expert at insurance speak. "Sir, you must pay 20

percent with a $35 minimum up to $75 on each drug. You must also stand

on your left foot and rub your head with your right hand at the same time

reaching for your wallet with your left so you can pay and pay and pay."

I paid the nice man in the

white lab coat and returned with the high-priced non-preferred drugs and

gave them to The Boy. I told him he needed to feel better soon so he could

get back in school and finish. hen he could go to college, graduate, get

a high-paying job and start paying for my medical insurance and prescription

drug benefits. He just looked at me, moaned, rolled over, and put the

pillow over his head. "Dad, I'm sick. Go away. I can't

pay for anything; I don't make enough money."

I patted him on his back and

said, "Son, I know just how you feel," then I turned out the

light and closed his door. Walking away from his room, I wondered if I

can tell all those people who want me to pay for their prescription drugs

that I too am sick and can't pay for anything else - that I,

too, don't make enough money.

[Rick Ryckeley is employed

be reached at [email protected].]