Showing posts with label Vasotec. prescription. pharmacy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vasotec. prescription. pharmacy. Show all posts

The Harlan Chronicles 8

Monday


Harlan gets $ickThirteen years had passed since Harlan and I first crossed paths. He was quite a bit slower now and didn’t have the reflexes to ‘bolt’ anymore. His vision was failing and the once black fur on his face had turned white. Harlan had mellowed with age and didn’t seem to mind a stranger’s touch. I knew it was just a matter of time before Harlan would go to the big dog park in the sky but he seemed healthy and happy for now.

Then Harlan became increasingly short of breath. The veterinarian diagnosed him with enlarged heart, Congestive Heart Failure and Atrial Fibrillation. He suggested consulting with a Canine Cardiologist and felt that an Echocardiogram and Thoracentesis should be done.

Ka Ching.

I may have coughed up a lot of money for the ‘Doggie-Shrink’ but I was older and wiser now. This was going to cost a lot more than that. I told the vet that at Harlan's age, I wanted him to receive “medical management” (drugs) only. Harlan stayed overnight at the animal hospital in an oxygen cage. He received Lasix, Digoxin and Vasotec intraveneously and bounced back quite nicely. Upon checking out the vet’s bill, I expected it to be high but a thirty-day supply of oral Lasix, Digoxin and Vasotec for $120.00? As grateful as I was to the vet for curing Harlan, I was equally miffed with him about the drug charge.

When I returned to work, I asked one of the ER Doctors to write the same prescriptions for “Harlan Spotswood”at my address.

I wasn’t sure if I would get hassled by the (people) pharmacy staff if they were made aware that prescriptions were for a dog and I didn't want to take any chances, so I lied.

When I submitted the prescriptions, the nice lady behind the counter asked for “Mr Spotswood’s age, date of birth and insurance”.

I quickly tried to calculate ‘dog years’, but just as fast, I gave up and said “He’s 80”.

Harlan’s date of birth? Hmmmm. How about Valentine’s Day? “February 14th…can you help me figure out the year?” I asked smiling. She was happy to.

Insurance? I told her he was not insured. She then asked about Medicaid. Think fast. “Oh, he is my uncle from Canada, we’ll take care of the cost” I said. “Your prescriptions will be ready in one hour” she said. Dodged a bullet.
Oh, and the total cost of the prescriptions? $15.00.

Part 9  Harlan's End

The Harlan Chronicles 10

Thursday

Harlan’s Finale

Harlan’s ashes arrived two weeks after he died. I picked them up at the animal clinic. They were presented to me in a navy blue velvet bag and inside, a beautiful wooden box with a key. Not sure of what I should do with his ashes, Mr. Something acerbically suggested, “why don't we plant him in the backyard flower bed, he’s used to being in there”.

Delaying my decision, Harlan was placed on the fireplace mantle. That evening, we were meeting our friends Terry and Arthur for dinner. Terry asked me to bring Harlan as she was interested in seeing how he was “packaged”. So, I put Harlan in my purse and off we went to the restaurant. After a few minutes of conversation, I placed Harlan on the table.

“I didn’t know Harlan would be joining us”, Mr. Something said.

Ignoring his comment, I slid Harlan across the table to Terry. A huge smile came across her face and with her eyes welling up, she exclaimed “This is the first time Harlan has ever come to me!”

A few days later, I received a phone call from our local pharmacy. “Is Mr. Spotswood available?” asked the perky pharmacy-lady.

Knowing that Mr. Something doesn’t take prescription medications, I asked, “Which one?” “Mr. Harlan Spotswood” she responded. My heart skipped.

“I’m sorry but unfortunately, Mr. Spotswood has passed away”, I said.

The pharmacy-lady’s tone immediately changed from perky to apologetic...“I am sooo sorry, I noticed he had not refilled this months prescription.”

I thanked her. Done. The lies are over.

To my surprise, the pharmacy-lady dragged me further into my web of deceit. “It’s tough being a caregiver, isn’t it?” she asked. I had to agree with her and added “But he did have a long life, it was just these passed few months that his health had failed”

The pharmacy-lady was so kind and compassionate as she ended our conversation by sticking the knife in my chest and twisting it…”If there is anything that we can do to help, please don’t hesitate to call.”

Announcements of Harlan’s loss were sent to those who knew and knew of him. The passage inside Harlan’s announcement was taken from a plaque outside of the shelter where he found me…

To the countless
Who never felt a gentle touch,
Or heard the whisper of affection…

In Memory of
Harlan Young-Spotswood
1993-2006