I walked into a doctor’s office, and they gave me Zepbound. Wait. There’s a story here.
I started taking Zepbound earlier this summer for a couple of reasons. One: obviously, my weight. Perimenopause hit, and boy-howdy, did my body not agree. I gained 20lbs in about 6 months. And I can’t take hormone replacement therapy because of my high blood pressure, something I’ve dealt with since my late teens. So, onto reason number two: I suspected my insulin hormone was in cahoots with my PCOS and everything else that was going on. I already take metformin to control my insulin resistance and help my PCOS. But I knew I needed something to help that end of the spectrum.
Let me tell you – this stuff is a miracle. Sure, I dropped weight in those first two weeks. Over eight pounds. I certainly didn’t want to eat, but because I am already hypervigilant on what I eat (gluten free, carbs, starches, gut health, etc), I didn’t need to change those established good habits. What I experienced was something better than weight loss. I felt like a pin had popped a water balloon, and I was slowly deflating. I felt like the literal pressure that had been building inside of me subsiding. I felt regulated, like all the gears were finally spinning as they should. I felt like I was returning to myself.
So, of course, I was going to make getting this miracle drug like my second job. My state passed a law that requires health insurance companies in our state to cover the cost of these drugs. Great – except the hoops they make you jump through are extreme. And our hospital systems are so overwhelmed as it is. You have to wait weeks and even months to get a pre-authorization for the meds before the insurance scrutinizes the prescription to determine if you need it (you know, because the doctor who prescribed it doesn’t know any better). Then, you have to join an insurance-led program for weight management because even if you take it for non-weight management reasons, you still have to change your lifestyle. Once you start the meds, you have to be persistent with your doctor’s office/hospital system to get the next pre-authorization going and start the process all over again.
Aside: When I finally got into a program and was evaluated, they patted me on the head and said good job, no notes. I basically just hit a few buttons to prove I was still doing everything I had been doing.
With most of these drugs, you have to gradually increase your dosage until you hit a maintenance level. I made it through 2.5 and then 5 before I was forced to change insurance companies through state policy. And I have done my due diligence, making sure the new insurance company knew what was going on, getting on the phone the day of the insurance switch, etc. However, as of this writing, I’m a week over my due date to start the 7.5 and am looking at least at another 2 weeks before I can get it. That long of a gap and the jump in dosage, especially before I go out of town for a week, is overwhelming. My anxiety about what will assuredly be extreme nausea, GI issues, and just making myself sick while traveling – never mind the next round of constant phone calls to get the next step up in dosage – is through the roof.
And this is just me, dealing with perimenopause and insulin issues, trying to get a medicine that works. Can you imagine what others who need life-saving, cancer-fighting, pain-relieving treatment and care are going through? This madening, broken, inequitable farce isn’t for the people. It isn’t even for the healthcare workers who truly want to do good in this world. It’s for profit, for sale, and we keep allowing our pockets to be drained dry just for the hope someone will finally pick up the phone just to tell us it isn’t covered.
Anyway. I count my blessings every damn day I’m not calling/messaging/emailing for something worse. But if this is what I go through for relief from perimenopause, what the hell are others who are facing the worst going through? These are the things I think about each March and November.
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