The Fugitive Grandma

Chapter 23 - Free Samples

When Frank checked further into his mother’s claims about her pension getting cut off, claims he initially wrote off as paranoia, he realized they were in big trouble. For the next few weeks he spent hours on the phone with Golden Sunsets and her Medicare provider, trying unsuccessfully to get some party to pick up the tab for her monthly five-thousand-dollar shot of Helixin.

When it was time for the monthly visit, Dr. Whittier cancelled their preset appointment, and then delayed three attempts to reschedule. Finally, Frank and Stella showed up at his office unannounced, waiting for a chance to speak to the doctor directly.

“We’ve got to see whether Whittier can help us. We can’t wait any longer,” Frank said as they sat in the clinic lobby, staring at an exquisite new bouquet of flowers. “He should be able to get us some free samples of Helixin from LifeGen while we get this insurance mess sorted out.”

“You’re right, Frank. The doc owes us big-time and it’s time to cash in some favors.”

“I don’t see an appointment for you on the doctor’s schedule,” the receptionist said coolly.

“That’s because you keep canceling our appointments,” Frank said.

“You need an appointment to see the doctor.”

“You won’t let us set up an appointment,” Stella repeated. “What is this, an Abbott and Costello routine? I am sure it’s just a coincidence that all the schedule conflicts started happening the minute you found out my private coverage for the Helixin ran out.”

This accusation seemed to hit a nerve and the receptionist squirmed in her seat like a bug under a magnifying glass. She looked around her desk for Stella’s files and clattered on her computer keyboard. “So who is your provider now?”

“We don’t have a provider,” Stella said. “No one will take us. I tried everywhere. My son’s spent the last couple weeks on the phone with the insurance companies. I read through some eighty-page guide on Medicare drug plans, and God knows I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. My current provider said they don’t cover Helixin because it’s experimental. Another provider told me they wouldn’t take me because I missed their deadline. Another insurer said they couldn’t take me because Helixin wasn’t in the formulary. Another insurer said Helixin’s still considered an unconventional therapy, so they don’t cover it. They can beat around the bush, but I know what they’re getting at. Everybody has a hundred and one excuses why they won’t cover my Helixin. The reality is that Helixin is expensive, but it keeps the cancer from coming back. So the insurers know if they take me on, they’ll have to fork out for Helixin every month for the next ten or twenty years, if I live that long. That’s the whole reason we came here to talk to Dr. Whittier. We need his help getting the medicine.”

“We’ve been very loyal to Dr. Whittier since day one,” Frank added. “I know he has a relationship with LifeGen, and I know most drug companies have subsidized medicine programs for patients without insurance. We need him to help us out here and pull some strings.”

“But he can’t help you. This is a financial issue. The doctor is only trained in health matters.”

“You act like the two are totally unrelated,” Stella said.

Whittier strode out from the back area of the office, wearing sunglasses and a windbreaker. He carried a gym bag with the handle of a racket sticking out.

“Doc, you’ve got to help us out,” Stella said.

“Mrs. Valentine, I didn’t know you had an appointment today.”

“She doesn’t,” the receptionist said.

“We really need you to meet with us, Doc.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it. I have to leave early today. I have a racquetball tournament coming up. Walk with me to the parking lot.” Whittier kept his brisk pace, and Stella and Frank followed after him through the hallway of the medical center.

“You’ve got to help me get Helixin. Get me free samples or something. Won’t you?”

“I don’t know if I can help you with that. LifeGen has discontinued most of those programs. They have a few charitable funds, but the only patients who qualify are ones who are destitute, with no income or assets.”

“Doc, my son is telling me Helixin costs five thousand dollars per injection! If I have to pay that out of my pocket every month, I will be as poor as a church mouse in no time flat. Do I have to lose everything before they’ll lend a helping hand?”

“I am not saying that I agree with the drug company policy, Mrs. Valentine. I am just telling you what I know, that’s all. LifeGen invested heavily in the research and development for this drug. They are not going to give it away free to every single patient who says they can’t afford it. I will see what I can do.”

“This is urgent, Doc. This isn’t something to write in your planner.”

“I’ll check with LifeGen. I just can’t promise anything.”

“Well, if they can’t help me, what about you, Doc?” Stella said.

“Me? What about me?”

“Maybe you could help us out with some money personally…you know, float some drugs with the house money.”

“Me? You’re kidding, right?”

“Why not? Let’s work out a deal. Split the drug costs with us and you’ll still get your visiting fees. I’ll even throw in something extra. I could go with you on the lecture circuit when you give those speeches to drum up sales for Helixin. Come on, Doc. It’s not like you don’t have income to cover it. Plus, I know that LifeGen gives you all those free samples.”

“Mrs. Valentine, that’s not the kind of arrangement I have with LifeGen. Nothing comes for free. And if I dip into my own funds to help you pay for your drugs, I’d have to do that for all my patients. I might as well close down the office.”

They had reached the parking space where Dr. Whittier kept his Ferrari. Stella stepped in front of the driver’s door, blocking the doctor from opening it.

“Look, Doc, you made a fortune off your relationship with LifeGen. And it’s all because of me. I was the patient who got you into the clinical trial. You used my test case to publish those research papers that made you their poster boy. Now your career is going through the roof. Don’t tell me you don’t owe me, and don’t tell me you can’t afford to help.”

“What you’re asking for is inappropriate. It’s a slippery slope. I can’t set the precedent for funding my patients’ medical needs. You have savings and you have assets. Use them. That’s what they are there for. The whole point of building any kind of wealth is to prepare for a situation like this.”

“Come on, Mom. It’s obvious this guy isn’t going to help us. He doesn’t care.”

“I do care!” Whittier protested.

“Have fun at your racquetball game, Doc.” Stella moved away from the Ferrari, no longer blocking the door.

As Dr. Whittier turned on the engine, a black BMW pulled up beside them. Stella and Frank recognized the woman in the driver’s seat—Julie, the LifeGen detail lady, whom the doctor had taken to lunch rather than seeing Stella at her last appointment. Julie rolled down her car window and seemed ready to tell Whittier something, but he cut her off.

“I can’t talk now,” he said, gesturing to Stella and Frank still standing by his car. “I’ll meet you at the club.”

The BMW pulled away and exited the lot. He backed out his Ferrari and left Frank and Stella standing alone in the lot.

“The nerve of that guy,” Frank said.

“I’m guessing the doc’s in bed with that LifeGen company in more ways than one.” Stella shook her head in disgust.

“We’ll going to figure something out, Mom.”

“I know we will.”