Happy Belated New Year, Cellmates

So I guess it's been a while since I wrote a post. I could tell you the reason was that I've been busy helping African orphans a la Le Brangelina, or feeding the hungry a la Le Mother Theresa, or something else that would warrant a nearly month-long absence. But the truth is during the holidays I generally don't give a rolling fuck about anything besides getting through it. And then it takes me like 2 weeks to get OVER it. So yeah. That's where I've been. Hiding. Mainly because my new shrink doesn't take my old insurance any longer so I've been basically unmedicated and left to my own devices with my ADHD and PTSD and GAD and all the other insane letters in my brain. I can't focus and when I do I obsess. And while that may be entertaining for one-liners on Facebook, it doesn't really work for a blog where a lot of the people reading me don't know and love me like my friends and so will probably never read my blog again.

Anyway. In my last post I was bitching about stupid pain doctors and my stupid body and telling them all to STFU. Which of course they did not. But I got caller ID and stopped answering the phone so it's all good, you guys. And on the 4th of THIS month I FINALLY got to see my shiny new rheumatologist. Which I guess is the point of this post. And which seems to be the point of MOST of my posts lately, which is this: doctors are generally stupid and cannot do le math.


A little back story: said specialist was called at the end of August for an appointment. Le Me was given an appointment for 3 months out. Then the appointment got changed a few times. By them. So I actually got to see this doctor on JANUARY 4th. Which is 5 months from when I called. And when I got there, Le Receptionist told me my regular doctor had not sent the referral even though now he had had 5 months to do it. And then they made ME call the office to find out where it was. Because really? That is my job. To call doctors from other doctors offices. And on top of it they had to have had the referral because the only way they would call me back with an appointment was if they had it in the first place. So I got to sit in the waiting room for 2 hours after my scheduled appointment. Which was really entertaining because there were at least two kids who were not being controlled and who were running around sneezing snot on people and touching shit and basically making sure that I caught whatever random cold virus was floating around kindergarten that week. Which I did but that's another post.


*Side note: it tickles me that colds are called RHINOVIRUS because rhinos are basically big fat grey unicorns. And I really want a unicorn. But not a cold.*


So. I get called to get weighed ant THAT depressed the shit out of me because it was 3 days after the new year and my new "nothing but grapefruit and black coffee" diet had pretty much not had time to work and also because I had been adding cheeseburgers to the mix. And then the doctor did what doctors do: make me repeat my life story which was written down on the 500 page intake form that they sent me to fill out ahead of time to avoid waiting in the waiting room for two hours. They're really efficient. I guess this doctor had not checked the "read" choice on the "How I Like to Learn" section of her job application.

Then I got to answer more embarrassing questions about poop and urine and ladypart secretions in front of Le Boyfriend, who basically excused himself after 10 minutes because sitting in a waiting room with snotty sticky kids is preferable to speculating on your bedmate's poop. Just sayin.


Follow with a really painful exam, then a long wait, then the head doctor (no, you guys, not a shrink, the doctor who is LIKE A BOSS) comes in and tells me they want more blood because they want to see the Lupus levels and THEN they tell me they're not going to give me pain meds til I come back. AT THE END OF FEBRUARY. I must have looked like a psycho at that point (short trip) because without me saying anything she changed it up and put me on Lyrica.

Now to the math thing (we always get to the point eventually). Le Young Doctor Who is Not Like A Boss told me, "I am writing le meds for 75 mg, twice a day. Do that for a week. Then double it if you are tolerating it. If not call me and we will change your dose." Um. Okay. If you say so. I check out. I got to le pharmacy. I go home. I take the drugs. I feel a little better after a couple days when the dizzy goes away. I double in week two. At the near end of week 2 I notice that I have almost no pills left. So, I call the pharmacy. And they tell me that it is too early by 2 weeks to refill the meds.


Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.


So for the last two days I've been calling the doctor and waiting for a call back. She finally called back this morning. And she said, "Well double it." And then I said, "Well I did. But now I can't refill it. Because you wrote it for 2 a day and the amount was SIXTY which ADDS UP TO A MONTH." And she said, I shit you not, "Well I told you to double it. Take 150 mg twice a day."

W. T. F?


After going through this for like 50 rounds, she finally seemed to see the lighbulb that was about to smack her in the head and she piped up, "Oh well then I will call in a new prescription to the pharmacy." "Okay, then..."

Of course, that was at 8 this morning. And the pharmacy doesn't open til 9. And it is now 11 and it's still not done and I don't have the car anyway. But I get the feeling I'm going to be reminding her to call. Again.

And that is where I have been, guys. And I warned you about the ADHD.