I believe the title of this post is all Holly’s fault. This post has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with yammering on and on self-importantly, nor pubic wigs, nor a rather serious and scary parasitic illness. It also has nothing whatsoever to do with making grape jelly, though if you click on the picture it will take you to an excellent blog post that tells and shows you how to do just that.
I find myself anxious for summer to finally arrive here in the Pacific Northwest. Growing up in Louisiana it always felt like summer by the time my birthday rolled around the first week in June. I just got back from running over to the pharmacy at the clinic. Holding my fleece jacket around myself to ward off the cold and pulling the hoodie over my head to keep my hearing aid from getting wet in the drizzly rain I found myself thinking ‘this sure doesn’t feel like June’. Attempting to pick up medicines when you don’t know the name of the drug you are trying to pick up is SO not a recommended maneuver. At my last doctor visit, about two weeks ago, my doc agreed to start me on a new anti-anxiety medicine. He does not feel comfortable prescribing the xanax my shrink at my previous health care provider gave me (and I haven’t heard back anything about the referral to a psychiatrist in this plan which was what prompted the new script).
In some ways, I am just thrilled to be back on a medical insurance plan. I have no co-pay for routine doctor visits and my prescription drug co-pays are tiny. What I hate though is that it always feels like navigating a difficult and unpleasant maze. Two weeks ago I asked my doctor to give me two more refills on all of the medications I am continuing to take. He tapped a bunch of keys on his computer keyboard and indicated to me that this was done. But the pharmacy clerk told me that I had zero refills left on the Lantus script. She was very helpful and got a doctor okay and got the pharmacist to fill the script for me. I didn’t mind waiting half an hour or so. But then when I got home, I found that what had been filled was my insulin and a pill called simvastatin (which my huzband the RN rants is less than useless) and I do not have the new anxiety medicine he told me he was prescribing.
#SoNotAHappyCamper. I know that Monday I will go back and either charm or frighten them into giving me my anxiety medicine. And if they don’t I will be writing to the clinic’s medical director. Treat my mental illness!!!