Maybe There's a Coupon?

Yeah, so, I had a little bit of a bad day. As you might recall from my post a few months ago, I had a somewhat successful visit to my endocrinologist a couple of months ago, but hadn't yet gone to fill my prescriptions. Looking at my dwindling supply in the fridge the other day, I figured it was time, because that supply was not going to last me until August when I start working. I filled them last week. I went to the pharmacist with about 6 prescriptions, and she came back with 2 that were covered by my insurance out of those: the Lantus and my test strips. When I read the copay, I looked at the Lantus and looked at the One Touch strips. "How much is the copay on each of those?" I asked. "The Lantus is $9. The strips are $70."
I sighed. The strips were obscene. So, I opted out of those (I can get them for cheap using a cheap meter on amazon) and bought the Lantus, which I couldn't believe was so cheap. Mind you - this was the first time I'd filled an actual prescription covered by insurance in almost 2.5 years. I was ecstatic, but a little confused. My insurance benefits didn't look like they covered that much of my insulin, but I didn't question it.
My short acting insulin (Humalog) hadn't been filled though. "It's not covered by your insurance. They prefer Novolog," the pharmacist said.
I called my doctor the next day to ask him to call in a Novolog prescription instead. I liked the Novolog pens a little better anyways. For once, I actually felt really... hopeful? I had not expected my insurance to make my insulin so affordable!

So imagine me walking into the pharmacy today, expecting the same great copay on insurance. I'm so naive! I walked up to the drop-off counter and waited for someone to notice me. A man looked up from giggling with some girl that looked like a student and asked if he could help me. I was still wearing my Mercer "student physical therapist" name tag. I know this pharmacy used a lot of Mercer pharmD students.
"Is there any way I can check to see if my doctor called a prescription in?" He looked at my name tag, then asked my name and DOB. And then that's where the frustration began. "Yeah, you've got a few..."
"Is there one for Novolog?"
He looked at the screen. "Yeah. Ooooh, but ouch," be sucked his breath in. "Wow, but it's expensive! Are you sure you want that?" He looked at the student and they looked at me and smirked a little, giggling.
"Umm. How much?" I asked, blinking, somewhat abashed. He told me the number. I swallowed hard. Was that funny? Was this a joke? I needed it to live. It's not like affording it was even an option.

It was a lot more than $9, or some test strips I didn't want to pay for.
"But... aren't they covered by my insurance?" I asked. "Yeah, well, maybe it's not preferred by them."
"It is. They said they preferred it over Humalog. Why is it so much more than the Lantus?"

"Oh, well, that was paired with a coupon that week. You just got lucky I guess. Normally that would have been... wow, $400 for you! Could be that your insurance just isn't that great."

"Oh." I said, my spirits falling. "Well, what about this prescription savings card?"
He looked at it. "Yeah, um, that's just a generic card."
"Check. Please. I don't really know how this works or what else I can do."

He typed it into the computer. "Yeah, it'd be a lot more than even with the insurance. Maybe there's a coupon online?"
Someone else walked up behind me to fill a prescription. I frantically pulled up my phone and searched for any coupon. I downloaded one and got back in line after the other person had finished.

"This one is just like the other card you handed me. You didn't get a Novolog coupon?"

"They don't have any. Um. Are the vials any cheaper?" I asked.
He typed some more into the computer.
"So what program are you in at Mercer?"

I looked at him, then looked down at my name tag with the big "student physical therapist" across it.
"Physical Therapy."
"Oh, cool. What year?"
"I'm finishing up in May."
"Wow, congratulations!"
I looked at him, with what I'm sure was exhaustion and frustration emanating from my face.

"So. Vials. They're $70 per vial."

"Per vial?" That's more than they would cost individually in the 5-pack. Why?"

"I don't know."

"Well didn't Novo Nordisk just partner with some pharmacies for cheaper insulin? What about that program for $25 insulin at CVS?"
"That's probably just coupons too."

"There are no coupons. It's not. Isn't there something?"
"Well, no, probably not. So, do you want me to go ahead and fill this?"

I looked at him, swallowing back what were the familiar hot tears of years of frustration, underinsurance, exasperation, exhaustion, sadness. God, I didn't want to be diabetic anymore. I never asked for this.
"Um, no. No. I'll check back later," I said, turning away, holding back the tears again. The same old tears I'd cried for years, remembering these hard years, grateful at least that they were almost over.
I went to my car, let some tears fall down my face, looked up some patient assistant programs.
And you know what sucks about this all? I looked at the patient care assistant programs. They don't help you pay for your insulin unless you don't have insurance... which I was forced to get. Sighing, I put my phone away and drove home, giving myself a pep talk.
It was going to be okay. God had provided for me for years, through all of this hardship. Somehow, despite all of this difficulty, I had had insulin, whether through luck, the generosity of others, the foresight of doctors... somehow, I had had enough through all these years. And I'm frustrated, especially by the insensitiveness of the tech at Kroger today, but I'm thankful that I'd had enough. Here's hoping the blessed end to this struggle finally comes soon. It can't come soon enough,

Stress, School, Work, and Staying Positive.

Sitting in the white coat ceremony that afternoon, I kept pinching my leg not to fall asleep. My eyes opened and closed. They became dry from staring intently at the podium in front of me. I tapped my foot against the floor, trying every trick I could think of to not doze off.
I left the white coat ceremony in a hurry. Shedding my coat and placing it on my back seat, I donned a colorful tutu, shirt, and hairband and made the hour and a half trip in traffic to Stockbridge for a ninja turtle party. Pasting a smile on my face, I face painted and balloon twisted everyone's share of Leonardo and Michelangelo turtle faces, and then hopped back in the car and drove an hour and a half north to Cumming to do another party that Friday evening.

I'd just gotten back from Florida two days prior, then turned around at awoken at 6 to get to my first day of PT school Wednesday orientation at 8 am. I had a long stretch of 3 years ahead of me. I was excited but it seemed like a mountain I had yet to climb, and I wasn't even at the base of it yet. I was staring at it in the distance, not even knowing what I was fully in for...
I finished my second gig, stumbling out at half past 10, wiping the sleep from my eyes.
Suffering from an intense lack of sleep, I pulled my car into the side lot of the QT at the nearest exit I found, pushed the seat rest in my car back, and passed out for 2 hours, still in princess garb I'd changed into at a stoplight between parties that evening. It was almost 12 am when I awoke in the lot. I was exhausted. I somehow made it the 30 minutes south to my new home in east atlanta with the cold air blasting, windows down and music blaring.

It was only my second day of PT school orientation. The weekend was ahead of me, but I had 4 parties the next day and one on Sunday. I sighed. My first party was at 10 am in Macon, so I would have to wake up at 7 am to get ready...

School and work. Work and school. Tired, tired, tired. I have climbed that mountain for years now. I had nights where I cried from the sheer overwhelmingness of it all. Afternoons I'd come home from school and I'd fall asleep in my car the moment I turned it off, not awakening until it was dark out. I remember one afternoon during my first semester of PT school where it all felt like too much. I had too much personal stuff going on, my ex was badgering me, I couldn't handle it. I started sobbing at my locker before cadaver lab. I remember crunching it in spring, clenching my teeth, hoping I'd skin by in classes and make it through the hardest semester. Someday, this was going to be worth it, I hoped. Even if I didn't feel like I was "getting" it and I struggled more than everyone else. I could do it. I stayed up a little later at night to finish homework during the week because I didn't have the time on weekends. 5 hours of sleep was lucky for me. Rare Sundays I had off, I savoured like candy, soaking in the sun at bright, warm coffee shops, feeling normal for a second. I put myself through that, yes. Part of me likes the struggle, running a business, working. Honestly, I loved what I did - I still do. When I felt like I failed at all things physical therapy, I knew I was good at parties. At being a princess. It made me feel empowered and good about myself. Able bodied. Someday, I'd have enough experience as a therapist that doing physical therapy would be as comfortable to me as doing a party. Besides, I like to do things. I like to stay active. I have a very hard time staying still. I should in fact, be better about living in the moment instead of planning every little detail. I don't regret any of it - working and doing school. I've hated and savoured all the moments of the past 2.5/3 years. I've learned so much about myself. I've grown more confident. I've learned better communication. Better responsibility. Become a harder worker. Perhaps more importantly, I have more of a hunger to go farther, to learn more, I realize I've only reached the tip of the iceberg in what there is to know so far.

As I worked in clinic today, I had the privilege of going out into the waiting room and calling my patient back. He lept up as soon as he saw me...with a cane in his hand. A cane! He had been walking with a rolling walker the past few weeks with a horribly unsteady walk, one leg crisscrossing over the other in a pattern that was sure to cause him to fall if he wasn't careful. He looked so proud, and I was proud, too. He hand't just gained the safe ability to walk back. This was the demeanor of a man who looked confident and strong. And if I helped facilitate that a little bit, then I was blessed to have done my job. I was working with a woman somewhat less than ecstatic about being in therapy today. Her hat fell off revealing a head full of newly curled hair, which I told her I loved. She beamed at the acknowledgement, her face lighting up. "I just went out to get it done," she said. "I haven't been able to get out and get my hair done in a while, but I'm more comfortable about walking now," she said. (Sometimes it's not just about the physical therapy. People need to feel good about themselves).
There's a poem by Emily Dickinson that goes, "if I can help one bird into his nest again, I shall not live in vain."
These past few years have been hard, but they have not been in vain. I have discovered a lot of keys to staying sane, to using every moment wisely, to still finding things to love in life. Setting aside time for hobbies such as my dancing. Going on little day or weekend trips - to the mountains, or to Asheville, or Charleston - that breath of fresh air out of the city enlivens my soul and helps me breathe again. Those escape days to the mountains refreshed me and made me feel at peace and ready for the next day. And the nights I laid alone, feeling alone in a big city where I hardly knew anyone? I wrote them down in journals, and now I look back on them, at a time that now feels like it ended almost as soon as it began. You don't stay alone forever. Things fall into place. They all fell into place when I met my husband, and so much of my crazy, sometimes overwhelming life made sense. The world I'd tried very hard to learn to love alone became one I could share with a second person. The places I learned to love with the spirit of adventure on my own, simply for the sheer joy of loving them - became fond memories with the person I loved. The sadness of my past became things I chased away as we talked late into the night. And I had a helping hand to guide me through the difficulties as they still unraveled.

Wow, these past few years have been crazy. But as I'm nearing my final two weeks of clinic as a student physical therapist - man, have they been worthwhile. My life is still going to be full of struggles, but I'm here now. For a little while, I can start to breathe.

2 More Months!

Reality is setting in around me as I am in clinic for the last 4 weeks. Next week will make 3 more weeks until I'm back at school and getting prepared for graduation. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! In little over two months I will be Doctor Lacy Mason, PT, DPT. I couldn't be more thrilled. Everything I've dreamed of the past few years is coming to fruition. The struggles of endless nights staying awake trying to study, the nervewracking competencies, staying at school until 11 pm (even when I desperately didn't want to be there) practicing this one last skill or that one presentation... this time in my life is coming to a close. My days are filled with seeing patients, documenting, clinic life. The work is hard, but I much prefer it to the rigours of school and the endless pounding out of assignments. Studying for boards is something I am imminently nervous of, but I plan to study over the summer so I'll be ready in July. Until then, I've filled my time looking into part-time jobs to make extra cash over the summer, made plans with friends to see them, and checked out my heart's content of books at the library to last me all throughout the upcoming months.

On the flipside, my husband recently started school this Spring to pursue his dreams of becoming a doctor. It's weird, having our roles reversed. When I first met him, I was a PT student just barely beginning my third semester of school, tired and frazzled and overwhelmed. My husband gently accompanied me through all of those difficult months. He was a patient practice subject for my friends and I, and he didn't laugh too hard when I did an evaluation component wrong or asked him to act as though he had a flaccid arm during an evaluation. He would brew me coffee late and night or in the early mornings, or make breakfast for me before leaving for school. He'd share lunch breaks with me in between class and keep me company while I studied at coffee shops. He drove me to work so I could study in between jobs, or drove us to hiking on Sundays off to allow me to finish my assignments and still have fun with him. My husband got me through my difficult coursework and some of the hardest semesters of my life, and it's in such huge part to him that he gave me the patience and confidence I needed to flourish both and school and as a significant other.
The roles are reversed: I drive to hiking now while he does school work. I keep him company at coffee shops while he studies! He's up late doing schoolwork and juggling classes while I am learning the finer points of working life. I don't mind the role reversal. I don't envy him - I'm glad I did my time and I'm also done. But I'm glad that it's my turn to mentor and encourage him, to let him know that the payoff will be worth it. The payoff is worth it - it's incredibly hard to juggle school and life and take risks for your future and apply to schools that dictate your future that you aren't sure you'll get into. It's hard having your entire life pretty much come down to a transcript. But we'll get him there.

This spring has got me thinking, "what's next?" I'm 23 - I'm married - I'm about to graduate. I've nearly met my "big" life goals. We aren't really thinking that we want kids. What kind of things do you do when your accomplishments have been met, when you've met the big goals? How do you fill your days? I've done a lot of soul searching these past few weeks to try and figure this out. We've attended church regularly. Made plans to hang out with old and new friends. Got library cards. We take weekend and day trips. We swing dance. I write. We still go on dates. I'm nerdy and I make 5, 10 year financial plans. I guess what I've found from this is that you need to continuously pursue growth and hobbies and passions. Do things that excite you, whether it's coffee once a week, biking, working out, dancing, seeing friends, visiting new places. Enjoying the here and now. For so long, I have had my eyes on the future. "When I graduate..." and, "when I'm done with school I'll do this, or this", or "If only I wasn't in school".
Those what-if's and when's are here now! Now I'm faced with their reality and I'm learning what to do with it all. I can't complain, though. I could certainly have worse problems than figuring out what to do with all of my days. Maybe my plans will involve more school in the future - I'm not really sure - but for now, I'm excited to begin job searching and beginning my career as a physical therapist. The future isn't without it's stressors, its ups and downs and trials, but it's looking bright.