After drinking a couple beers with a buddy a couple months ago, I dragged myself across the street to get a flu shot at Walgreens. Supposedly this season was one of the worst, and I had no desire to get swine flu. I hate needles. The insertion isn’t what bothers me. What irks me is the uncomfortable feeling of liquid getting pushed into my veins as the injector tries to hold the needle still. I don’t know how heroine users do it!
I actually didn’t feel a thing this time around because I was a little tipsy. Perhaps you too should give needle injecting a go after a couple drinks (see doctor for professional medical advice). When I went to pay the bill the pharmacist said, “That’ll be $34.95.”
Over the past 11 years I don’t recall ever paying for a flu shot. The first nine years was because my old firm was awesome enough to bring a pharmacist in to our office and inject us all for free. And the last two years my insurance provider paid in full. But this pharmacist was adamant that Cigna, my insurance company, wouldn’t pay for the particular strain I was about to get. Odd.
Normally I would have told the pharmacist to hold up so I could give my insurance company a call and ask them what’s up. But this time, I just couldn’t be bothered with this picayune amount. “OK, no problemo! Charge away.” I didn’t want to have to spend 30 minutes on the phone for the chance of sending in my receipt to get reimbursed $35. Maybe if I was absolutely bored out of my mind with a lot of time to kill I’d go through the entire discovery process, but I just didn’t have the patience.