So, How Much Will That Cost Me?

....I don't know. That's my honest and typical answer. I really don't know. I have an inkling, but one can never know for sure. I have a better idea than you do, but I don't know the finite answer. Why is that dumbfounding?

Here are some rhetorical questions that I ask in my head (while I'm attempting to process the claim so they go the fuck away) to allow me to cope:

Who let you out of your nursing home?
Where's your shower?
Does it really matter?
What is the monetary threshold that will make that horrible cough linger?
Do you have a better or cheaper way to get a hard-on?
What if I told you seven hundred dollars?
What if I told you three dollars?
Why would I be kidding you?
Do you think staring at me whilst typing will lower the amount owed?
Who do you think that toupee is fooling, honestly?
Why aren't you working?
When did you enjoy a "triple whopper" last?

I love the third tier. I really do. It's the most expensive and most confounding of all the tiers. It offers mesmerizing words such as "prior" and "authorization" in the same sentence often. It contains obsequious copays and dazzling drugs. Yes, the third tier is the shit. Maybe that's why doctors write prescriptions in the third tier. Then again, maybe the same asshole standing in front of me disagreed with the doctor's assessment. Then, the doctor, being human, wrote a prescription that s/he knew would be expensive. This concludes the third tier lesson.