I know that to someone who doesn't take this drug, my posting on it seems pointless, but to me it represented the difference between needing my handicapped parking sticker all of the time and a cane to go with it and working full time. The prospect of Remicade's bankrupting my husband and depleting our retirement savings makes me sick if I stop to think about it. My doctor recently increased the amount of Remicade that I get every eight weeks, and the other day the insurance statement for the bill arrived:$5700 and some change, for which my husband and I are responsible for a little over $1700.

now I know that currently I have a $1000 deductible that is to be paid from a pool by my school corporation. They mess up the billing and charge me for twenty percent of it about every other billing, and it always makes my heart stop. The bookkeeper at the infusion center where I receive my infusion says they do it to delay paying. He bills it the same every time. In the fall, my husband's insurance will necessitate our paying twenty percent of every bill, which wouldn't be so bad were it not for the fact that the increase in medicine has not brought about the drastic improvement I had hoped for. I can still move, though, and I am thankful.

My sister, who is a vegetarian and in good health, has remarked more than once on the "poisons" that I put in my body. I admit that she is right. But fifty isn't looking as old as it did once, and I want to have a life.

I wish the money didn't factor into it so much.



Biotech drugs' future: Hard to afford, copy

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