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.
Labels: medical necessity, trigeminal neuralgia