Your government at work
It looks funny, but it's quiet and I sleep better. I'm still cuter than this guy, though.
I sleep with a CPAP machine, a device that blows air into a mask and keeps my windpipe from collapsing. I used to snore, now I don’t. The cause of all this is sleep apnea, which affects an awful lot of us, especially the full figured types.
Over time, the masks wear out and you need to replace them. I have also developed a hole in the hose from the machine, which I fixed with band-aids from my first aid kit in Hawaii last month.
You would think that replacing this would be an easy task–and it used to be. I could just go to the medical supply store in Walnut Creek and pick one up. Not anymore.
Some genius in the government has decided that you now need a prescription to buy this piece of necessary equipment, making a simple transaction complex for no benefit that I can even imagine.
I got my doctor to write me a prescription, although he thought I had lost my mind.
I went to the medical supply store on Mt. Diablo Blvd, which has an excellent display of the masks. Silly me, I thought that meant they sold them. But they don’t. The masks are just a display; if you want to buy one you have to go to their sister company in an industrial park in Concord.
So I trundled out to deepest Concord, and found the place. The guy inside was happy to help me–did I know what size I needed? Well, gee, my face is the size of a pie plate, maybe a large? No, I need to make an appointment with a respiratory therapist to be officially measured. “I can buy this on eBay”, I said, taking my prescription back and leaving.
Which, it turns out, wasn’t true. eBay won’t allow people to sell prescription items. There are people selling CPAP mask “parts”, which may or may not assemble into a complete mask, but I didn’t want to deal with the hassle.
On a whim, I decided to try Amazon–you can buy darned near anything there. Sure enough, there were CPAP masks and hoses and paraphernalia aplenty.
Visit this link on How to Sell on Amazon quickly.
I found what I wanted, pleased to see that the price was better that it is locally, and clicked on buy. Although I expected to see some screen requiring me to mail/fax/scan my prescription, there was none. Just tell them that I wanted it and the transaction was complete.
Now, 4 days later, there was a box waiting for me when I got home (neatly covered by a Post Office crate to keep it out of the rain, too. Thanks, mailperson.)
Why I need a prescription in person and not online is a mystery. I don’t think I really care–the mask is here, the price is right, I’m a happy camper.
I’ll sleep well knowing the government is looking out for my best interests.
Totally Unauthorized 