CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“I see, I see,” said Claudette. “Yes, ma’am. That’s awful. Alright. Can you give me the name of your pharmacy? We’re going to call and pay for the prescriptions and see how long you’ll be needing them. I’ll tell them to call you when they’re ready.”

The woman was crying on the other end of the line, giving her the name and number of her local pharmacy. When Claudette said goodbye, she lowered her head against her forearms on the table. Jake’s big hands massaged her shoulders, kissing her head.

Baptiste looked at his big sister and frowned.

“You okay, sis?” he asked.

“It’s a lot, Baptiste. That woman is on necessary medications for a heart condition and high blood pressure, but she hit something called a gap. How do we, as a nation, let this happen?”

“I think we don’t,” said her brother. “We’ll get this done, and then maybe we can start working this from a different angle. One where we can make long-term changes with government policies.”

“We’re so lucky, Baptiste. I know that we all know it, but this just proves it even more. We never have to worry about where our next meal is coming from or whether or not we can afford medical treatment or housing. We’ve been so, so fortunate.”

“We have,” said Rose. “Because of your parents. We’ve all been incredibly lucky and blessed. I say a prayer every day for them. For all of you, for saving me.”

“You saved me, baby,” said Baptiste, kissing his wife.

“Claudette, did you take care of that woman?” asked her mother from across the hall. They had all their suite doors open so they could speak to one another and communicate freely. The elevator key to their floor was for their team only.

“I did, Mama. It was medication that she needed. Jake is taking care of calling the pharmacy now.”

“Good, that’s good,” said Irene. “Baptiste, what about the man who needed the new prosthetic arm?”

“I put him in touch with Ryan and the team at G.R.I.P., Mama. They’re going to fly out to see him and get him fitted for a new one. One of the best we make.”

“That’s what I like to hear! We’re makin’ a difference now.” She had a big smile on her face, the twinkle in her mischievous eyes lighting up the room. Matthew loved it when she was like this. She was a force.

They heard the elevator ding, and heads looked down the hallway, ready for whatever might come. Instead of bad guys, the security guard escorted a man and woman down the hallway, both wearing suits and looking very official.

“Sorry, Mr. Robicheaux, Mrs. Robicheaux, but this lady says she has to speak with you about what y’all are doing.”

“No problem, Hank. I appreciate you bringing her up here,” said Matthew. “How can we help you?”

“My name is Stacy Follett, and I’m the Administrator for the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid. This is my assistant director, Paul Trivini.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Matthew. The man and woman looked around them, watching as men started coming out of the rooms.

“They’re all my children and grandchildren,” said Irene. “They’re helping us.”

“Yes, that’s what we’re here about,” said the woman. “Mrs. Robicheaux, there are procedures for people on Medicare that they have to follow to get their medications. We can’t just give medicine to whoever wants it without justifying the need.”

“Is that so? Well, what procedure is in place when you don’t give them their medications? Tell me that. What procedure prevents them from dying of high blood pressure, stroke, diabetes? How is it you justify seven hundred dollars for a vial of insulin, that without it, the patient will die!”

“Well, we carefully review…”

“Pftt! You don’t carefully review nothin’. Tell me, what are the names of the people on this list that you’ve refused treatments or medications? Tell me that.”

“My love, let her speak,” said Matthew, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Fine. Speak.”

“I, we, review their files and the necessity of the medications.”

“And you’re a doctor?” asked Claudette.

“No. But we have many doctors working for us. We also employ pharmacists, nurses, physical therapists, every medical specialty.”

“And these experts denied the woman I just got off the phone with her blood pressure and heart medications,” said Claudette.

“I would need to review her file,” said the woman, swallowing. Rose stepped forward, and Baptiste smiled, knowing that his little spitfire had a temper and knew how to use it.

“I’ve worked in the corporate world and understand the need for processes and procedures,” said Rose calmly. The woman and man smiled at her. “I also know the absolute futility of many of the rules put in place. The absurdity of their nature and need. You act as if you’re just looking at ledgers with numbers, which you are. You see a social security number, check it with age, weight, height, and the estimation of how long they will live.”

“Now wait a minute!” said the man, taking a step forward. As he did, Baptiste planted a hand in the middle of his chest that told him he would be wise to back up.

“That made you angry, Mr. Trivini, because it was the truth, and you don’t want everyone to know the truth. The things these people are requesting, needing to live life, full, productive lives are basic. It’s not like they want hair transplants and breast augmentation!

“They’re not asking for anything they haven’t worked for. These are people who have worked their entire lives contributing to a system that is supposed to provide for them, and your people are denying them that right. It’s heinous, and it borders on genocide only with generations.”

“How dare you!” said Follett.

“How dare I? How dare you! You were put into this position to help, not hinder,” said Rose. “You are supposed to protect them, not harm them and lead them to early death. Yes, I know the system is taxed, and it’s not going to last forever. You know why? Because it’s not a good system! It could be better, and you know how to make it better. You just won’t!”

Both of them were silent, just staring at Rose then looking around the room. Mama Irene stood next to her daughter-in-law, gripping her hand and giving it a squeeze. She was proud of her. Proud of what she’d said.

“Maybe you’d like to call the next one on our list,” said Jake. He handed the woman the paper, and she gasped. “Eleanor Follett. I believe she’s your mother. It appears she needs to have an MRI in order for the doctor to approve her hip surgery. Your people have refused, saying it’s unnecessary. Her doctor refuses to do the surgery without it. I imagine she’s in a lot of pain right now.”

“Sh-she called me a few days ago, but I’ve been so busy,” she said, staring at the paper. She looked up at them, nodding. “I’ll do better. I promise you, I’ll try to do better. Thank you for helping these people.”

“Stacy?” said her partner.

“No. They’re right. We need to fix this, and we’re going to find a way. Ms. Robicheaux?” she said, looking at Rose. “Would you be willing to participate in the review panel?”

“I would be thrilled to do so,” said Rose.

“I’ll be in touch,” she said, nodding at them. “Thank you. Thank you all.”

They watched as she and her assistant left the floor. When they were gone, Irene hugged Rose, kissing her cheeks.

“And this is why I’m not worried about leavin’ y’all one day. When my time comes, everything will be in good hands. Now, let’s get back to work.”