Last Friday, I got sick. I mean REALLY sick. It started with a cold chill that shook me to my spine, followed by that cold sweat that you just know is a fever.
Saturday, even worse.
Sunday, I'm completely unable to describe the torment.
Monday was a little better. But not much. Took a trip to the doctor, the first since starting my new job, and was impressed at my nifty new insurance coverage. The doctor's visit didn't cost me a dime. He said I had the flu, prescribed me some Tamiflu® for it as well as promethazine.
So, I take my sick ass over to the local pharmacy to pick up the two prescriptions (a grand total of 25 pills) and get hit with a case of sticker shock. The bill? $91.00.
WHAT THE FUCK? NINETY-ONE BUCKS? I paid it, but I'll be damned if I didn't learn later in the day (after my interest in Tamiflu peaked) that although Rouche manufactures it, they license it from Gilead Sciences. Gilead's former chairman is none other than my "main man" Donald Rumsfeld, who owns millions of dollars in Gilead shares to this day.
There's a good reason to avoid the flu: you'll have to pay Rummy.
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