For the better part of ten years, I’ve dealt with inflamed sinuses. It’s technically chronic sinusitis, but off-and-on enough that it isn’t quite chronic. This condition is agitated since I’m allergic to dust and sleep in a room full of books. Years ago (circa 2006), my doctor put me on Nasonex, which opened things up and served me well during the year of weekly allergy shots meant to cure this physical aversion to dust. I had insurance to cover this medication, so I can’t remember what this small bottle of nasal spray originally cost.

This week, I asked my doctor if I could go back on Nasonex as my sinus pressure had returned. (I’ve bought a lot of books recently.) I arrived at CVS Pharmacy a little nostalgic for that old familiar blue and white bottle that brought so much clarity all those years ago. I know that sounds like I might be addicted to nasal spray, but trust me, I couldn’t afford it.

This single bottle of Nasonex was $196.66.


For this amount of money, I have a number of expectations:

I expect the active ingredients of Nasonex, scarce and harvested to near depletion on their native Scandinavian island of Östersocknen, were located and collected by Bear Grylls and flown first class back to the United States via Emirates. The parcel was taken to Nasonex HQ where the compound was temporarily stored in a gilded chalice adorned with blood diamonds as a unique spray bottle was molded by hand and engraved with my monogram. The bottle was then filled and transported to Lexington, Kentucky in a 2015 Lincoln MKZ driven by Matthew McConaughey and then will be handed to me, along with a new iPad, by Scarlett Johansson. The first dose will effectively cure chronic sinusitis, and each subsequent dose bestows increased alertness, intelligence, health, and confidence at public speaking. Not needing the entire bottle, the remainder I can ship to east Asia where a trace amount of Nasonex leads to the diplomatic and harmonious end to the armistice on the Korean peninsula and I accept the Nobel Peace Prize on behalf of Nasonex and Greedy Bastard Pharmaceuticals.

“One hundred and ninety-six dollars and sixty-six cents,” said the pharmacist as she looked upon me with pity and my insurance provider looked the other way.

Congress should pass some sort of law or act that makes health care affordable.