His name is John. John has a quiet, humble demeanor—the essence of a Christian servant. He is a pharmacist in a small community, a wonderful husband, and a father to two children. As he suffers from depression and anxiety, John was hospitalized by his loved ones out of fear he would commit suicide. John may never return to serving the community he loves so much. John is a REAL person, not a number. John’s depression and anxiety are directly related to the current crisis that exists with every independent pharmacist.
John concluded he would not be able to keep his pharmacy open. Not only would he no longer be able to care for his family, but his community would also lose one of only two healthcare providers in their little town. The other is a nurse practitioner. John’s elderly patients—who depend on him—would be forced to drive for miles to find another pharmacy. The behemoth health insurance companies have their “knee on the neck” of the small-town pharmacist. I’ll explain it a little later.
Her name is Anna. Unassuming, kind, and gentle, Anna has an amazing soul. She is also a small-town pharmacist in Alabama, and she too is facing a crisis. After graduating from Auburn’s prestigious School of Pharmacy, Anna returned to her hometown, where she is a proud second-generation pharmacist. She followed in her dad’s footsteps and is the heir apparent to her dad’s pharmacy.
Anna’s story doesn’t stop here. Her daughter is a pharmacy student at Auburn, and like her mom, she plans to return to her hometown to run the family business—a third-generation family business that her family has sustained for over 55 years. I recently watched Anna fight back tears as she explained to her daughter the reality of the current state of community pharmacy and the fact that the family business may not be able to support their future together by the time she completes her education and returns home. Family dreams are shattering, and hope is dwindling. Anna is a REAL person, not a number.
His name is Brett. Brett is a young, mild-mannered pharmacist whose mentor was a guide to many pharmacists. Like Brett, they learned to be servants to the patients who depend on them to ease pain, provide hope for healing, give healthcare advice, and sometimes be a shoulder to cry on when hope has faded. He has a beautiful family.
Brett’s challenges are the same as John’s and Anna’s, but more complicated. Brett bought his pharmacy a few years ago from his mentor, who left this earth way too soon. To buy the pharmacy, a local bank provided the bulk of the financing. With the burden of this debt looming over him like a cloud, Brett will do everything he can to survive, but under the current climate, all his efforts may be in vain. Brett is a REAL person, not a number.
Her name is Sherrie. Her husband was a very special person, an amazing Christian caregiver, and yes, he was a pharmacist. Like so many other small-town pharmacists, he was a trusted advisor. Many patients preferred his counsel over that of their doctor. Sherrie is an innocent bystander of the current crisis. When her husband died, she financed the sale of his pharmacy and has no control over what happens next. Even though she depends on the income from the sale of the store, she has witnessed firsthand the impact independent pharmacies have on our lives. It’s difficult for Sherrie to sleep at night as her worries consume her peace of mind. Sherrie is a REAL person.
What is this crisis? We are all—each of us—at risk of losing our local independent pharmacists, whom we depend on so heavily. Not long after that, we will start to lose our pharmacies in grocery stores and chains. They are experiencing the same dilemma.
The issue at hand is an anticipated piece of state legislation for the upcoming session, which, if not passed, will financially cripple our beloved pharmacists and threaten their existence. The key component at issue is a proposed “dispensing fee” to be paid by the insurance companies. The dispensing fee is currently paid by both Medicare and Medicaid. It is only the big insurance companies that aren’t paying the fee.
The fee is a nominal amount of just over $10. It will save our local pharmacists.
The highly skilled lobbyists and those who want to curry favor with big insurance companies are trying to frame this fee as a tax. They know that no legislator in Alabama wants to be known as casting a vote for a tax increase. Doing so is the death nail in their reelection coffin. If the powerful lobbyists working on behalf of the insurance companies can get in front to incorrectly frame this fee as a tax, the legislation will be defeated—and your hometown pharmacist will disappear.
Who is your local pharmacist? Say his or her name. That’s who we are talking about losing.
What created this crisis, you may ask? Big insurance companies want to shirk their responsibility to the insured. Instead of denying your claim for badly needed medications, the insurance companies now hide behind entities known as Pharmacy Benefit Managers (PBMs). These PBMs totally control if, when, and how you will get your medications. More importantly, they control how much our pharmacist will be paid for the drugs. In many cases, the PBMs are now paying our pharmacists less than these drugs cost. Sometimes these shortfalls are hundreds of dollars.
In addition, your pharmacist was forced to sign a contract that doesn’t allow them to tell you they just lost a couple of hundred dollars while filling your prescription. To further cause harm to patients, the pharmacist isn’t allowed to share with you ways to save money on your medications. This is a crisis.
The PBMs and mega-insurance companies are making billions of dollars while you are denied the vital medication you need, and your pharmacist is in danger of closing his or her doors. This is a crisis.
I am a Certified Public Accountant. I have been working with small business owners for more than 45 years. I have been recognized in the courtrooms of Alabama as an expert in my field on many occasions. As an expert, I know a tax when I see a tax. The proposed dispensing fee is NOT A TAX. This is a crisis.
