The thing I hate the most about old age is not the aches and pains and decrepitude, it’s thinking you know how something works and then finding out it doesn’t work that way anymore.
Take prescription drugs for example. A dozen years ago I got cellulitis from a cat bite, went to urgent care and got a prescription for cipro. A doctor wrote on a piece of paper. I took the piece of paper to a pharmacy and waited while they filled it. That’s about the only time I can remember having a prescription for myself before I had the stroke and it was a one off, but I remember picking up prescriptions for my mother. It worked in a similar fashion. You took a piece of paper to a pharmacy and got it filled and when you were close to running out you called the pharmacy and asked them to refill it.
So I’m on two medications now — atorvastatin and levothyroxine. I don’t know why my pcp prescribed the thyroid. My T4 wasn’t low. I guess it’s something they give to all women of a certain age to give them more pep (it doesn’t work that way). It’s giving my pituitary a rest, I guess. That’s about all I can tell. But that’s off the subject.
The first thing that happened was CVS (because it’s a preferred pharmacy for my insurance) offered me automatic renewal. I thought that would be convenient. I won’t have to worry about keeping track. Man! I started getting text messages every couple of weeks. “Your prescription’s ready to be picked up.” What prescription? I still have a six week’s supply. And my pcp would change the dose without talking to me and I’d get another text “prescription ready” with a full bottle left. The pills were piling up. I was starting to feel like the sorcerer’s apprentice.
I opted out of the automatic refill. Then I started getting text messages every day trying to get me to sign back up.
Now, absolutely no one would be tempted to abuse atorvastatin and you couldn’t give it away on the street. The worst consequence is that I am paying for a huge stockpile of pills that are only going to end up in a landfill or polluting the water supply when I flush them down the toilet. But I started thinking. If this kind of thing is a routine business practice of chain pharmacies these days, what would happen if the prescription is for a “desirable” drug — tranquilizers or pain pills? What if the pharmacy was renewing my 90 day prescription for oxycodone every 30 days?
Jury holds CVS, Walgreens and Walmart responsible for role in opioid crisis
I think I’ve finally got CVS off my back and my pcp understands not to change my medication without talking to me first. But it took a lot of work and determination. What if someone didn’t have the wherewithal to assert themselves or worse, what if the drug was one with an abuse potential and they gave in to temptation to get as much as they could, the pharmacy being so accommodating and all?
I think that’s probably how it happened.