OK, So maybe you're gonna read this and say, "Jesus, what a whiner, If that's a shitty Day . . ."
Well, all right, maybe not SHITTY, but damn, it was a bad one. See, I've been off of my mood stabilizer for 5 days, now. This morning making the 5th AM dose I have missed in a row.
I called the Doc Office day before yesterday, yada yada yada, whoop whoop . . . blah blah blah.
I was wandering about the area looking for a mailbox, you know, one of the blue boxes so I could post a letter. Yes, some people still use snail mail, and I believe I know all of them.
As it happens, I was a block away from the doc when I found one, a blue box, that is. So I broke the first rule in American Healthcare: I . . . WALKED IN! <gasp>
Yeah, you're goddamn right. No appointment . . . No warning phone call . . . no fucking shot across the bow. I just went inside.
All right. In my defense, I was pretty oogy. 5 days is the longest I have ever gone without the medicine I use to treat my bipolar disorder. Jesus, I remember the days when it was called manic-depressive disorder, though I was not diagnosed at that time. Manic depression's uh, touchin' my soul . . .
You know, they say it takes an average of ten years for a bipolar sufferer to be correctly diagnosed. I myself was dx'ed Major Depression when I was seven years of age. (then I was diagnosed a sociopath when I was 17 . . . thank god for doctor/ patient confidentiality laws, eh?) I was dx'ed bipolar when I was 37. Thanks, guys.
So there I was, felling pretty fucking extra-corporeal and acting accordingly, but everyone in the doc office was so kind and thoughtful, my morning went better than hoped.
See I have fallen between the cracks as far as medications, RX, are concerned. I, like many Americans, too many in fact, am uninsured. As a student, again, I am relying on fin aid and student loans and such to get by, and for the most part, I do. Now, in January, I qualify for some state assistance regarding healthcare, Medicaid, if you will, though somewhat different. Until then, I have to rely on free clinics and whatnot.
Now to be perfectly fair, the physicians and their staff, all of the ones I have seen anyway, have bent over backwards to see me and have yet to see a dime from me. Sure, they get recompensed from other entities County, State, and Federal, but they don't have to be nice if they choose not to be.
It's the goddamn pharmacies that suck so hard. They need that dollar before any dispensing goes on whatsoever. Now it turns out that the lady at the clinic this morning, I'll call her Whoozie*, was kind enough to go online to the drug bandito, er, manufacturer's website and obtain the forms necessary for the RX of my choice to dispense my meds and still get paid, this time, by the RX company themselves. Not only that, but Whoozie asked if I could come back on Monday, and she'd have all the forms necessary for the rest of my meds to be refilled, and on a regular basis, as well. What a peach.
Off to a national chain of RX, which is part of a department store . . . And I am not going to point any Fred fingers, or name any Meyer names, because I don't DO that sort of thing. Now here is where the wicket, as they say, became sticky:
No one carries the Brand Name form of the drug. Now, the drug company, in their infinite, greedy wisdom, says "Sure . . . we'll pay for the drug . . . OUR drug."
Of course. It's Smart Business. Why give a rival company who's been selling a cheaper version of the drug you spent billions of dollars researching and developing, more money out of your pocket just because privately owned RX's out their want to maximize their profits by selling you the generic version of the same shit. So, extrapolate from there, Patient Reader, and you'll see what happened at that UNNAMED RX from 1030 hrs to 1400 hrs, 3.5 hours of my life I'll never get back.
So, blah blah blah . . . that's how you can take a great start to a troubling day and then shit all over the sumbitch.
* . . . names have been changed to protect the guilty . . .
Well, all right, maybe not SHITTY, but damn, it was a bad one. See, I've been off of my mood stabilizer for 5 days, now. This morning making the 5th AM dose I have missed in a row.
I called the Doc Office day before yesterday, yada yada yada, whoop whoop . . . blah blah blah.
I was wandering about the area looking for a mailbox, you know, one of the blue boxes so I could post a letter. Yes, some people still use snail mail, and I believe I know all of them.
As it happens, I was a block away from the doc when I found one, a blue box, that is. So I broke the first rule in American Healthcare: I . . . WALKED IN! <gasp>
Yeah, you're goddamn right. No appointment . . . No warning phone call . . . no fucking shot across the bow. I just went inside.
All right. In my defense, I was pretty oogy. 5 days is the longest I have ever gone without the medicine I use to treat my bipolar disorder. Jesus, I remember the days when it was called manic-depressive disorder, though I was not diagnosed at that time. Manic depression's uh, touchin' my soul . . .
You know, they say it takes an average of ten years for a bipolar sufferer to be correctly diagnosed. I myself was dx'ed Major Depression when I was seven years of age. (then I was diagnosed a sociopath when I was 17 . . . thank god for doctor/ patient confidentiality laws, eh?) I was dx'ed bipolar when I was 37. Thanks, guys.
So there I was, felling pretty fucking extra-corporeal and acting accordingly, but everyone in the doc office was so kind and thoughtful, my morning went better than hoped.
See I have fallen between the cracks as far as medications, RX, are concerned. I, like many Americans, too many in fact, am uninsured. As a student, again, I am relying on fin aid and student loans and such to get by, and for the most part, I do. Now, in January, I qualify for some state assistance regarding healthcare, Medicaid, if you will, though somewhat different. Until then, I have to rely on free clinics and whatnot.
Now to be perfectly fair, the physicians and their staff, all of the ones I have seen anyway, have bent over backwards to see me and have yet to see a dime from me. Sure, they get recompensed from other entities County, State, and Federal, but they don't have to be nice if they choose not to be.
It's the goddamn pharmacies that suck so hard. They need that dollar before any dispensing goes on whatsoever. Now it turns out that the lady at the clinic this morning, I'll call her Whoozie*, was kind enough to go online to the drug bandito, er, manufacturer's website and obtain the forms necessary for the RX of my choice to dispense my meds and still get paid, this time, by the RX company themselves. Not only that, but Whoozie asked if I could come back on Monday, and she'd have all the forms necessary for the rest of my meds to be refilled, and on a regular basis, as well. What a peach.
Off to a national chain of RX, which is part of a department store . . . And I am not going to point any Fred fingers, or name any Meyer names, because I don't DO that sort of thing. Now here is where the wicket, as they say, became sticky:
No one carries the Brand Name form of the drug. Now, the drug company, in their infinite, greedy wisdom, says "Sure . . . we'll pay for the drug . . . OUR drug."
Of course. It's Smart Business. Why give a rival company who's been selling a cheaper version of the drug you spent billions of dollars researching and developing, more money out of your pocket just because privately owned RX's out their want to maximize their profits by selling you the generic version of the same shit. So, extrapolate from there, Patient Reader, and you'll see what happened at that UNNAMED RX from 1030 hrs to 1400 hrs, 3.5 hours of my life I'll never get back.
So, blah blah blah . . . that's how you can take a great start to a troubling day and then shit all over the sumbitch.
* . . . names have been changed to protect the guilty . . .
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