Yesterday, although we weren’t particularly optimistic, we headed out to the local pharmacy with a mission in mind. With our April cruise steadily approaching and memories still fresh from the last time we each battled three strains of flu on that 47-night voyage, we knew we didn’t want to take chances. Not at our age. Not with my cardiovascular disease and Tom’s pulmonary fibrosis. So, despite the uncertainty, we decided it was worth trying to secure Tamiflu in advance.
When we booked the 11:00 am appointments with the nurse practitioner at the pharmacy, the receptionist was very clear. The consultation would cost US $85.08 (AUD $120.56) for both of us, and there was no guarantee we’d walk away with prescriptions. Even if the medication couldn’t be prescribed, we would still be responsible for the appointment fee. It was one of those moments in travel life where you weigh risk versus peace of mind. We exchanged glances, took a breath, and booked it anyway.
Sitting in the waiting area, I’ll admit I kept my expectations low. We’ve learned over the years that healthcare systems abroad can have their own rhythms, rules, and occasional roadblocks. When we explained our medical conditions and why we wanted Tamiflu on hand for the cruise, the nurse practitioner listened carefully and seemed to understand our concern. That alone was reassuring.
But then came the hiccup.
When he tried entering our information into the system, it wouldn’t accept us without an Australian Medicare ID. Of course, one of those technical barriers that can stop everything in its tracks. For a few minutes, it looked like we might have paid the consultation fee only to walk out empty-handed.
To his credit, the nurse practitioner didn’t give up. He stepped away and called his supervisor to see if there was any workaround. Those next fifteen minutes felt much longer than they probably were. We sat quietly, trying not to get our hopes up while also silently willing the universe to cooperate.
Finally, he reappeared in the waiting area with the words we were so hoping to hear. They had figured it out.
He was able to process our information and prescribe two rounds of Tamiflu for each of us. The wave of relief that washed over us in that moment was enormous. After everything we went through on the last cruise, having this medication in hand feels less like a luxury and more like a necessity.
We had hoped to receive three courses each, but in the end, we were happy with the two rounds per person. Not perfect, but certainly workable. The pharmacy filled one box of ten tablets each, one treatment round for each of us. The cost came to US $156.00 (AUD $220.92) for the medication itself. We can return in a few weeks for the second box each, when they approved one refill each.
When we added the consultation fees, our total out-of-pocket expense for the two boxes each, the total was US$ 241.08 (AUD$341.44).
Was it cheap? No.
Was it worth it? Absolutely.
Based on experience, if we were forced to obtain Tamiflu on board the ship, including the medical visit and marked-up medication, we’d likely be looking at about US $700 to AUD $991.40 per person. By taking care of it here in Penguin, we saved a substantial amount and, perhaps more importantly, gave ourselves a sense of preparedness that money really can’t buy.
We’re calling this a win and are very glad to have this task behind us.
Today marks my 78th birthday. This afternoon, around 4:30, we’ll make our way back to the Neptune Grand Hotel for happy hour at the bar, followed by dinner in the restaurant, the same lovely spot where we dined with Terry and Fran last week. As it turns out, the lovely restaurant offers a complimentary birthday dinner, which feels like a sweet little bonus and perfect timing for our planned return.
If yesterday was about peace of mind, today will be about celebration, gratitude, and quietly appreciating another year of this remarkable nomadic life.
No doubt, it will be a good day.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, February 20, 2016:
