Believe it or not, I've had a lot to talk about these last 6 or 7 months but just chose not to.
Something happened tonight, however, that is preventing me from a decent night's sleep and where two hours ago I was excited for what is one of the best events I'm fortunate enough to get invited to, I am now dreading the morning.
So, somewhere in the ballpark of 4-5 months ago, I had a huge argument with my pharmacy about what prescriptions I take precisely. I take two different doses of the same medicine each day: 160 mg in the AM, 120 mg in the PM. I can't even tell you how long my dose has been like this; somewhere between 12-15 years. So it's not like I'd forget something like it.
My pharmacy had enrolled me in "auto-refill" which was giving me an abundant number of pills - so much so that I eventually put a stop to it and weaned off the stockpile I had so none expired and went to waste, and then when I went to manually fill it in, they had a HUGE shit storm and instead of actually calling my goddamn cardiologist office to confirm the prescription, they just decided to ignore the issue for four fucking days until I came storming in demanding my fucking medicine. They kept insisting I don't even take those pills and I was like YOU ARE FUCKING INSANE I take these goddamn pills every single mother fucking night. I won't lie - I looked like a crazy woman because I was near tears and my tone could cut a bitch in half. Long story short, it was resolved and the prescription renewed and you bet your bottom dollar TEAM RACHAEL! reamed them the fuck out for not contacting them.
Then I started noticing something weird - so, as stated, I take 160 mg in the morning. Usually, I'm given 60 pills of 80 mg - i.e. I take two of these in the AM to equate to the full 160 dose. Still with me?
Well, shortly after the debacle, I began to receive 160 mg pills straight up. OK. No big deal, so long as I get it. Then, within the last cycle of refills, I received 80 mg again. All right. Whatever. The last pick-up, though, gave me with 160 and someone was telling me, "Oh. Sorry for the wait - we had to get it passed the insurance." The fuck--?
Now, I should have said something, I'll admit because clearly someone is confusing my 160 vs. 120 again because...
When I go to refill (via telephone) my 120 mg tonight, the automated message tells me "your prescription is invalid."
ARE. YOU. FUCKING. SHITTING. ME.
The prescription clearly says on the label "refill 10 times until (blah blah date, 2014)"
I'm so livid I can't even see straight - I left a message on their machine but probably fucked up my phone number because I was THAT mad. I am that mad. So first thing in the morning, instead of doing my hair and make-up for this awesome event, I have to march down there and give them what for. Again.
I don't know who is fucking this up - there are a number of incompetent people in that pharmacy; brainless yahoos who don't know how to organize themselves or figure out the difference between 160 and 120 mg of the same goddamn pill.
This is my third goddamn pharmacy in 10 years and I'm just...so horrified by the complete ineptitude of these melon farmers.
I really don't want to get TEAM RACHAEL! involved, but dollars to donuts my mom is probably not going to let me go down there in the morning because I'm so pissed off. The problem is it's me or her - and while I can be pretty scary, my mother is downright terrifying. Tiger Mom is the last team fighter you tag with Street Fighter turbo, you know what I mean?
Anyway. I just had to rage this out so I can get some sleep.
TO BE CONTINUED
Showing posts with label medicine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label medicine. Show all posts
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Friday, April 22, 2011
Bart No Like. Bad Medicine.
The latest Chronic Babe Blog Carnival Asks: Trick or Treat! Halloween is coming soon and we started thinking, wow, medicine is like Editrix Jenni's favorite holiday. Sometimes you get treats, and sometimes you get tricks. We'd love to hear about the ups and downs of your experience. Show us the highs and lows, and the surprises!
Currently I take 4 pills upon waking, 2 vitamins after I eat breakfast, iron at midday/afternoon, 5.5 pills at night followed by another iron pill. It may seem like a lot to swallow (ha ha - that's what she said) but some of those are doubles or a different dose of the same medication. In actuality, I only take 7 different kinds of medication. Five are related to my heart, one to my thyroid and the other none of your damn business. ;)
The only type of medication that has ever proven to be difficult are the medications I take to control my arrhythmia. I won't state which medications that I was taking because everyone's reaction to them is going to be unique and I do not want to scare anyone who may be taking either of these meds or know someone who is. It all has to do with my unique chemistry, not the pills alone. It's like being allergic to peanuts. Peanuts might be DEATH to one person but delicious toppings to an ice cream sundae for someone else.
Most of the pills I take (minus 4)
Bad Medicine: The First Encounter
When I was nine years old, I was put on a particular medication for my recently developed arrhythmia. Gradually, I developed myalgia, confusion, drug-induced lupus and nightmares. Oh, my ticker was doing the best it had ever done up to that point in my life - healthy, strong, responsive! - but I was in constant physical pain and having my first experience with extreme brain fog. The climax came when my mother found me going off to school well before it was time. I stepped outside, backpack on...walked down the path to the sidewalk. Turned towards the end of the street. Walked about two houses down. GOT LOST AND CONFUSED. Like a child walking through the woods. God, THE PANIC!
I forgot where I was going, why I was going there, what I was doing, how did I get there? It was just a jumble of foggy anxiety. Really, the fog in my brain was just so dense it was any wonder I was able to make it back to my house, knock on the door and tell my mom I didn't feel good. It took a little over a week in the hospital to ween me off and get everything under control.
Bad Medicine: Even Badder
Doctors went for another medication when I was in junior high. This time, everyone got a little smarter and removed me from school (removed/kicked out, it's all relative). Man, oh man...what a roller coaster of batshit crazy that was. I developed psychosis immediately. Paranoia, hallucinations, violent mood swings, seething anger, intense mania...oh, the mania! As ridiculous as it sounds, I almost miss the mania. Almost. I was extraordinarily productive during this time, creatively wise. I ate/slept/drank my writing, stayed up to all hours of the night just writing and writing and writing - all by hand. I had containers filled with complete novels (mostly dribble, but the rough drafts of future projects as well). I painted, sculpted, and drew. Despite this, there is no question now in my mind that I was insane.
Unfortunately, my mom couldn't figure out if my extreme behavior was due to me just being an angst-ridden teenager or if it was the meds. So I was like this for a number of months, constantly flying off the handle, smashing anything I could get my hands on in a temper tantrum that could rival any toddler. No fun.
Mom finally came to the conclusion that I wasn't right in the head and by the second half of my 8th grade year I was off the medication. The side-effects gradually tapered off, but as I was never given assistance for the repercussions of going through such an experience, it would not be until I reached adulthood that I realized half of what I experienced during my junior high years was more than likely the result of my medication.
I've never publicly written about this, though I did tell a select few about it a couple of years ago, when I was reflecting on it for the first time since reaching adulthood. It's been a little nerve-wrecking allowing everyone to know this information and get a glimpse of what once went through my brain. I feel that this blog carnival is the perfect opportunity to go public about my experience, even if people will take a step back from me. I have yet to bring myself to read the journals I kept during that time. I know they're filled with ramblings about people that never existed.
Luckily, this story has a hopeful ending. When I was sixteen years old it was decided I need to give another medication another go. I was understandably scared, but I also appreciated the fact that my new doctors were taking this seriously enough to quarantine me at the hospital and observe me for heinous side-effects. At the end of my sophomore year I went in the hospital for a week, armed with a care package from friends I'd met on the internet, filled with a wondrous new music that would stay with me forever. My body - and my brain - took to this medication beautifully and I have been on it ever since.
A treat indeed, given all of the tricks I had to go through to finally get to it!
NOTE: High five for everyone that recognized the Bart Simpson quote.
Currently I take 4 pills upon waking, 2 vitamins after I eat breakfast, iron at midday/afternoon, 5.5 pills at night followed by another iron pill. It may seem like a lot to swallow (ha ha - that's what she said) but some of those are doubles or a different dose of the same medication. In actuality, I only take 7 different kinds of medication. Five are related to my heart, one to my thyroid and the other none of your damn business. ;)
The only type of medication that has ever proven to be difficult are the medications I take to control my arrhythmia. I won't state which medications that I was taking because everyone's reaction to them is going to be unique and I do not want to scare anyone who may be taking either of these meds or know someone who is. It all has to do with my unique chemistry, not the pills alone. It's like being allergic to peanuts. Peanuts might be DEATH to one person but delicious toppings to an ice cream sundae for someone else.
Most of the pills I take (minus 4)
Bad Medicine: The First Encounter
When I was nine years old, I was put on a particular medication for my recently developed arrhythmia. Gradually, I developed myalgia, confusion, drug-induced lupus and nightmares. Oh, my ticker was doing the best it had ever done up to that point in my life - healthy, strong, responsive! - but I was in constant physical pain and having my first experience with extreme brain fog. The climax came when my mother found me going off to school well before it was time. I stepped outside, backpack on...walked down the path to the sidewalk. Turned towards the end of the street. Walked about two houses down. GOT LOST AND CONFUSED. Like a child walking through the woods. God, THE PANIC!
I forgot where I was going, why I was going there, what I was doing, how did I get there? It was just a jumble of foggy anxiety. Really, the fog in my brain was just so dense it was any wonder I was able to make it back to my house, knock on the door and tell my mom I didn't feel good. It took a little over a week in the hospital to ween me off and get everything under control.
Bad Medicine: Even Badder
Doctors went for another medication when I was in junior high. This time, everyone got a little smarter and removed me from school (removed/kicked out, it's all relative). Man, oh man...what a roller coaster of batshit crazy that was. I developed psychosis immediately. Paranoia, hallucinations, violent mood swings, seething anger, intense mania...oh, the mania! As ridiculous as it sounds, I almost miss the mania. Almost. I was extraordinarily productive during this time, creatively wise. I ate/slept/drank my writing, stayed up to all hours of the night just writing and writing and writing - all by hand. I had containers filled with complete novels (mostly dribble, but the rough drafts of future projects as well). I painted, sculpted, and drew. Despite this, there is no question now in my mind that I was insane.
Unfortunately, my mom couldn't figure out if my extreme behavior was due to me just being an angst-ridden teenager or if it was the meds. So I was like this for a number of months, constantly flying off the handle, smashing anything I could get my hands on in a temper tantrum that could rival any toddler. No fun.
Mom finally came to the conclusion that I wasn't right in the head and by the second half of my 8th grade year I was off the medication. The side-effects gradually tapered off, but as I was never given assistance for the repercussions of going through such an experience, it would not be until I reached adulthood that I realized half of what I experienced during my junior high years was more than likely the result of my medication.
I've never publicly written about this, though I did tell a select few about it a couple of years ago, when I was reflecting on it for the first time since reaching adulthood. It's been a little nerve-wrecking allowing everyone to know this information and get a glimpse of what once went through my brain. I feel that this blog carnival is the perfect opportunity to go public about my experience, even if people will take a step back from me. I have yet to bring myself to read the journals I kept during that time. I know they're filled with ramblings about people that never existed.
Luckily, this story has a hopeful ending. When I was sixteen years old it was decided I need to give another medication another go. I was understandably scared, but I also appreciated the fact that my new doctors were taking this seriously enough to quarantine me at the hospital and observe me for heinous side-effects. At the end of my sophomore year I went in the hospital for a week, armed with a care package from friends I'd met on the internet, filled with a wondrous new music that would stay with me forever. My body - and my brain - took to this medication beautifully and I have been on it ever since.
A treat indeed, given all of the tricks I had to go through to finally get to it!
NOTE: High five for everyone that recognized the Bart Simpson quote.
images one and three from We Heart It
The Fears of the Chronically Ill
This is my contribution for the Patients for a Moment blog carnival, hosted by Selena of Oh my Aches and Pains! who asks: I want to hear about your fears: what they are, how you face them and what you do to overcome them.
via threadless
Well, I'm scared of driving, statues of animals, bugs that jump, oh, wait. Selena isn't asking about those fears, is she? No, she's asking about the fears that I really fear, the kind of fears that revolve around my health.
Death - The big one. It's not an uncommon fear as a whole, but the looming shadow of a scythe and a hooded figure has been a concern of mine for a number of years. It's more of a fear of premature death than anything else, but like I said, not wholly uncommon amongst even the healthiest of people.
Medical Upkeep - This is actually the fear that causes the most anxiety in my life. I can never, even for a split second, be without medical insurance in my life. Obtaining and maintaining insurance in not easy, in fact, it can be downright demeaning and stroke inducing with all of the questions, the restrictions each program puts on my life, the limitations, the rules, the paperwork, the soulless shuffling and judgment. It's pure, unadulterated hell for me. Nothing spins me into a full-blown anxiety attack like talking about how much I hate the bureaucracy part of health insurance.
What does it in for me is that I am not a temporarily ill person; I will always be "sick" on some level and I will always require insurance. Explaining this, explaining my health, my heart condition and what it "feels" like (most annoying question EVER) is like being asked to justify my existence to a firing squad. I am hopeful that many of you will never, ever have to go through this hell but for those of you who have - my deepest empathy.
Dependency - I don't know if I am a dependent person by nature, or situation. What I do know is that I have a desire to free myself from being dependent. I'm unhappy having to rely on my family for shelter and food, but this is necessary as I cannot make enough money at this point in time to support myself with rent, food, etc. My big fear with dependency is being dependent for the rest of my life. I do not want this; I do not want to live with my family forever. I want to spread my figurative wings and have my own home, my own family. I want to pay my own bills, decorate every room in my own house and be able to say I am the head of the household.
Unrealized Goals - I've always wanted a family of my own. A spouse and a gaggle of adopted kids. Living with my health, the dependency issues, the unable to make more than the bare minimum, it wells a fear so great in me I can easily cry thinking about it too much. To not achieve a family of my own, however small it may be, is something I cannot bear. Something that millions of people take for granted, and many often neglect or abuse, and I have to struggle for seems like the greater injustice than any other aspect of my life.
So, these are my fears that all relate to my health in some way or another. How do I overcome them? Well, I haven't. I just try to avoid the outcome I don't want or to figure out ways to keep living my life the way I want to and achieve as much happiness and personal success as I can.
Well, I'm scared of driving, statues of animals, bugs that jump, oh, wait. Selena isn't asking about those fears, is she? No, she's asking about the fears that I really fear, the kind of fears that revolve around my health.
Death - The big one. It's not an uncommon fear as a whole, but the looming shadow of a scythe and a hooded figure has been a concern of mine for a number of years. It's more of a fear of premature death than anything else, but like I said, not wholly uncommon amongst even the healthiest of people.
Medical Upkeep - This is actually the fear that causes the most anxiety in my life. I can never, even for a split second, be without medical insurance in my life. Obtaining and maintaining insurance in not easy, in fact, it can be downright demeaning and stroke inducing with all of the questions, the restrictions each program puts on my life, the limitations, the rules, the paperwork, the soulless shuffling and judgment. It's pure, unadulterated hell for me. Nothing spins me into a full-blown anxiety attack like talking about how much I hate the bureaucracy part of health insurance.
What does it in for me is that I am not a temporarily ill person; I will always be "sick" on some level and I will always require insurance. Explaining this, explaining my health, my heart condition and what it "feels" like (most annoying question EVER) is like being asked to justify my existence to a firing squad. I am hopeful that many of you will never, ever have to go through this hell but for those of you who have - my deepest empathy.
Dependency - I don't know if I am a dependent person by nature, or situation. What I do know is that I have a desire to free myself from being dependent. I'm unhappy having to rely on my family for shelter and food, but this is necessary as I cannot make enough money at this point in time to support myself with rent, food, etc. My big fear with dependency is being dependent for the rest of my life. I do not want this; I do not want to live with my family forever. I want to spread my figurative wings and have my own home, my own family. I want to pay my own bills, decorate every room in my own house and be able to say I am the head of the household.
Unrealized Goals - I've always wanted a family of my own. A spouse and a gaggle of adopted kids. Living with my health, the dependency issues, the unable to make more than the bare minimum, it wells a fear so great in me I can easily cry thinking about it too much. To not achieve a family of my own, however small it may be, is something I cannot bear. Something that millions of people take for granted, and many often neglect or abuse, and I have to struggle for seems like the greater injustice than any other aspect of my life.
So, these are my fears that all relate to my health in some way or another. How do I overcome them? Well, I haven't. I just try to avoid the outcome I don't want or to figure out ways to keep living my life the way I want to and achieve as much happiness and personal success as I can.
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