Another round of Plan B for Miss Loosey, my local celebrity-wannabe that came rushing into the pharmacy the other night.
"Put it on my insurance," she said.
Side note: Do we really have to call Medicaid plans "insurance" anymore? The word insurance implies that it's something a person pays for to keep from having larger costs later. Medicaid is free to those who have it. I really detest calling it "insurance." I pay for my insurance. Medicaid patients are hosted by the Taxpayers.
"Do you have a prescription for it?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"No. Can't you prescribe it to me?"
"Not in this state," I said. I really have no idea if pharmacists can prescribe it anywhere else, but I'm sure that's coming some day.
"Healthcare is a RIGHT," she lectures me. "I shouldn't have to pay for this."
"Healthcare is a commodity," I reply, knowing full well she has no idea what I just said. Life, liberty, the Pursuit of Happiness, and Healthcare? One of these things is not like the others... the Sesame Street song starts rolling in my head.
Miss Loosey pays for the Plan B and asks me to open the package for her. She intends to take it right there right now. I tell her she can just take it at home. The extra time won't matter that much.
"You know I can't take this home. My husband would see."
I open the package. She quickly swallows the tablet.
"By the way, condoms are on aisle five, in case you wanted to get some on your way out."
She rolls her eyes. "Ha ha ha," she says, sarcastically.