Friday, February 28, 2014

Seriously, evolution: tears are not a good communication tool

I'm doing that thing where I'm taking a little thing - the inability to get a prescription refilled in a timely manner - and turning it into a big, huge thing - EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE IS FALLING TO SHIT RIGHT NOW. So, if the pharmacist at Rite Aid wonders why that lady who has called everyday this week just hung up while obviously holding back tears: there's her answer.

Zach's new hospital situation is crummy: I don't especially like the hospital, but that's fine; having to learn all new office and blood and nurse people sucks, but I've done it a million times, and can manage again; the hospital itself is a labyrinth that I traveled during the first days of my illness, and being there brings an odd sense of deja vu added with the feeling of 'holy shit I can't believe I'm still dealing with this mess' (since, when I originally fell ill, they told me it would only last a few months); But the main problem is getting in contact with him is near to impossible.

If there's one thing I've got down at this point, it's how to keep my meds refilled - I know which ones have to be written and mailed (or picked up) and which can be called in, and I USED to know approximately how long it would take from phone call to fax to authorization to filling to pick up for most of my regular meds. This new place?

I might as well be calling him in Hades, leaving messages with Cerberus, or sending them via Charon's freaking ferryboat.

I left a message last Thursday, saying who I was and what I needed, knowing I had about 5 days worth of meds left. I heard back nothing ... Ok. So I called back on Monday, and left another message. Tuesday, I called Rite Aid, and since they still had no new prescription, I called again. I repeated this again on Wednesday and Thursday - when I did finally manage to speak to a nurse who assured me that Zack was in the office that day, and she would make sure he sent the refill to the pharmacy. (I knew he was in that office on Thursdays, hence why I called LAST Thursday, but... moving on.)

This morning: Rite Aid reports, still nothing. I called and talked to the same nurse. She said she would get the message to Zack at his other office and get back to me. (I do not have the phone # for the other office, which is a HUGE problem, I realize now, but how was I supposed to know that then?) Hours pass; No call from Rite Aid or the nurse. Now it's 4:00 on a Friday afternoon, I'm out of pills, and I call again, leave a message.

5 minutes later, she calls me back: She spoke to Zack who said he sent the rx yesterday, but will resend it right now. Thanks and gratitude all around: Have a good weekend! 

No confirming call from Rite Aid.... so, at quarter to five, I call them, and the pharmacist says "nope." WHILE I AM ON THE PHONE WITH THEM, I get the Robo-call from Rite Aid, which I answer: "Your recent prescription requires additional information from your doctor before we can fill it. Please call your local Rite Aid" So I call them back, and a new, very cheery pharmacist puts me on hold. And plays cheesy 80s music in my ear for 10 minutes, and now it's after five on a Friday, and ...

"We don't have any refills left on that prescription."

No, see, the reason the robot called me is because my doctor just called the refill in, otherwise it would have no reason to call me.  More hold time, more cheesy 80s music.

And now - I freely admit - I am beyond frustrated. I am ready to lose my mind because this isn't even one of my complicated drugs: this is a base line drug! This is a "I can barely function, and this drug gets me to barely" drug. This is not some miracle cure I'm chasing: this is a drug I have been on for 9 years, that I refill every single month of those 9 years, and now it's after 5:30 on a freaking Friday, and you're going to tell me...

"You should call your doctor's office and have him resend it. Sometimes this happens."

And I can tell at this point, that I'm not going to be able to continue the conversation. I'm just. Done.  I'm not a person who gets mad and starts screaming (generally): when I get upset the tears gather behind my eyes and my throat gets clumpy and I start to have to swallow and sniff a lot, and take a lot of deep breaths and blink repeatedly and hope that the other person doesn't notice that I'm probably going to start bawling at any minute.

I don't think I hid it very well, because the cheery pharmacist lady started apologizing "Sometimes this just happens, you know, it gets lost between us and them... I'm sorry? Maybe he has the wrong number... call him and try again."

And what I say is "I... just. This is ridiculous. Ah. I.  Ok."

But what I mean is "IT IS ALMOST 6 O'CLOCK ON A FRIDAY NIGHT, AND HE'S GONE: HIS OFFICE IS EMPTY, AND THERE'S GOING TO BE NOBODY THERE TO RESEND THE DAMN THING, AND THIS SHOULDN'T BE HAPPENING BECAUSE I DID EVERYTHING RIGHT! I CALLED AHEAD AND I PLANNED IT OUT AND I EVEN GAVE YOU ALL ENOUGH LEAD TIME TO BE STUPID ASSHOLES ABOUT IT, AND IT'S STILL WORKED OUT SO THAT I DON'T HAVE THE MEDICINE I NEED AND THERE'S NO WAY FOR ME TO GET IT UNTIL MONDAY? I'VE BEEN TAKING HALF OF MY DOSE JUST SO I DIDN'T RUN OUT THIS WEEK ALREADY, AND NOW I WON'T HAVE ANY?? I JUST DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY TO DEAL WITH THIS KIND OF NONSENSE! I HATE THE WHOLE WORLD RIGHT NOW."

But I don't say any of that.  I hang up and I burst into tears (and then I get mad at myself for bursting into tears because it helps absolutely nothing) and then I take a lot of deep breaths and I sniff and blow my nose and then complain to Twitter about evolution and then I come here and write this. And now it's after six o'clock on a Friday night, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do next, but I have to go leave some (non-bawling, hopefully) messages on people's voice mails, so that somebody will help me with this before I lose what's left of my marbles.

---- And... I left a message AGAIN, but the office is closed. I won't hear back, and it's technically not an emergency, so I don't want to call the cancer care line (because that's his service: he's an oncologist). PLUS, the pills are 'controlled', so, even though I've been on them for 9 freaking years, AND you're not supposed to 'suddenly stop' them, they can't give me enough to last till Monday morning.

So, I'm betting I'm going to have the Best Weekend Ever.

I'm already taking a half dose, and it's reminding me that these pills do actually help a little. I am not looking forward to no dose at all. Off to scour all my backups - the travel pills, the purse pills, the bug out kit, - where I know there will be at least one or two hiding, and that'll bring me to Monday without having to no dose at all, hopefully.

But I think you can see why I'm hating the whole world right now. this should be so easy! it is not that hard! all it requires is four or five people to be doing their jobs at the same time ~ but, still -  Here I am. Hitting publish, eating a homemade english muffin pizza, and pretending I didn't just spend an hour crying about people being unhelpful.


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