Razzle Dazzle

Life, once again, imitates art. This time, it's that form of razzle-dazzle called "medical necessity."

Here's the game. I have rung the chimes on the use of Tegretol, the default medication for trigeminal neuralgia. So next, we hold fast with Tegretol and increase the dosage of my second medication, Neurontin, to levels that will allow me to beam myself to work. Just in case the Beast finds a chink in this armour, I am also prescribed Clonazepam, an anti-convulsant of legendary properties. When--not if--this regimen proves unsustainable, The MD makes a case to my insurer that I should have another option called Lyrica, with less hallucinatory side effects. (The link gives you the party line, by the way.) That too is probably destined to failure.

One does all this why? To make a medical necessity case for surgery. Whilst the medications have about a 60 percent chance of success, the surgery has a 90 percent plus chance of success. But we wouldn't want to deprive the poor drug companies of another chance to make a buck, now, would we?

I admit to mixed feelings when I discovered that the most I could get from a whole bottle of Clonazepam is a reversible coma, and probably a wicked bad hangover. Shit.

One does find a sense of solidarity with laboratory animals.