My case worker came to
pick me up yesterday
She is becoming more human
less stiff and more
compassionate now that
she gets it,
my chaos is constant.

With Bear’s hospitalization
60 miles away with no
actual date of release,
my drop and twitch moments
and my drop moments coming
more and more frequently

No one can tell me what is
wrong.

This county is a no tolerance
to narcotics area, so I’m
having a hard time getting a
doctor with a clue to help me
GET OFF THESE DRUGS.

Review,
I fell in August and was given
a narcotic that knocked out my
anti-depressant, anti-anxiety meds
and my ADHD meds. That makes for
a very wet laptop, with bad sleep
and the occasional crashes.

On top
of everything else, the disability
office has a problem dispensing money
to me for my Silent Sentinel. It
is hard not to be paranoid about
all of this. I just need to receive the
benefits that will help feed my
Gentle Giant. I’ve been waiting since
we were approved on October 28th.

Instead, Monday I get a letter
with dispersement dates, Tuesday
I get a letter mailed to my house
that says they don’t have the
correct address for my son who
lives with me…

They mailed it to my house…

At my address…

where he lives with me…

Duh! He lives with me at the
address that they mailed the
letter to.

Wednesday, I get a
form letter letting me know that
my Medicine Management Company
will be charging me about $30/month
for the benefit of paying $50 per
prescription for name brand pills
and some amount less for the generics
because they provide such good service
to their consumers, I will eventually
cap out a deductible amount and
then get my generics at $10 for name
brand meds, then $5 for generics.

All of this came on the day of
five appointments. I was picked up
from my house-unexplained seizures-
so no driving for me. I was on time
for once to an appointment #1,
vitals and basic info was taken
and given. I have been accepted
into this center with managed care.
This is what I wanted. Right?

Then I get to appointment #2 with
Dr. Psychiatrist #5, who gives me the
prescription that I asked for from
my Dr. Psychiatrist #4 in September,
who just doubled my doses
instead of hearing
that I wanted a change entirely
SINCE NOTHING WAS ACTUALLY WORKING
and he slipped a teeny tiny
anti-psychotic in there because
in spite of it all he still
believes that I am Bi-Polar.

No, I’m just angry and fed
up with over educated know it all
doctors who sneer as you talk.
Yeah, I’m blunt, but not stupid.
I have a funny side effect
to anti-psychotics
THEY MAKE ME PSYCHOTIC
AND WE WENT THROUGH THIS ONCE
AND CHILDREN SERVICES
TRIED TO TAKE GIRLIE.

So mama lion has some blood
in her mouth and wants
to keep her children,
so no, I won’t take
the anti-psychotics,
I won’t take the
red dye that makes me
cackle like a rabid hyena
or whoever’s version of the
Joker was in the latest Batman film,
(I’ve lost track of them all, I
remember Jack Nicholson as the Joker?
I have the VHS tape of that one with
Michael Keaton and Kim Basinger.)

Go two paragrahs up where I lost
my point and rambled away.
The new doc puts me back
on Paxil.
Really? Really? Really?
after grilling
me for about five minutes
to find out why I left the
hospital against medical advice?
“because, he didn’t listen”
“he never read my file and
treated me like
I was schizoprenic”
“he asked me if I was possessed”
when he saw me have a seizure
and when I told him I had two seizures
the next day he asked me if I was a vegetarian.

I’m glad I have normal blood pressure
because if I didn’t it would be up by now
and I don’t need that. (Remember the old cartoons
where someone would get so angry the mercury
would shoot out the end of the thermometer.
Pretty graphic imagery, actually, but
they could get away with that stuff back
then.)

I finally got what I asked for
after waiting for thirty business days
(yes, that means I didn’t count weekends
Do psychiatrists work on weekends, I think not)
after my emancipation
from the heavy duty
lock down crayon and marker ward
“Special Care Unit.”
Funny euphemisms for
“we will ignore your requests
because we think you are crazy
and crazy people can’t be believed”

Now, here’s the catch.
Dr. Psychiatrist #5 wants
me on Paxil- we agree
its a med that works for me.
He just can’t help me get off
the Adderal and the Klonapin.

He doesn’t deal in controlled
substances, so he can’t tell
me how to get off them safely.
He wants me to go back to Dr.
Psychiatrist #4 (the doctor
who doesn’t listen) and ask him
how to get off addictive meds,
because I must be some kind
of junkie and none of the doctors
in the facility prescribe or
manage their dispensation or
can help me safely wean off
the amphetamine/Klonapin
cocktail safely.
The nurse practitioner
won’t help
either.

Which circle of hell am I on in Dante’s inferno?

Ah, yes, limbo.
A nice circular
place where I
can wander in
circles being
told,
maybe and tomorrow,
sorta and sure soon.

I get to appointment #3
early and have a female
yearly invasive exam I
will spare you the details
of, but I don’t worry about
these exams because I finally
will have an appetite again
and have the ability to gain
weight when I can get to the
pharmacy and switch over
to the new meds.

Then I get to appointment #4
with my case manager
who has as much trouble
getting through to
Social Security as I do.
Spread the joy, we both called
and who ever got through first
got to tackle the
cash flow issue.
“It must be the wrong
bank account number.”
The problem is still
not resolved “call back Monday”
This makes no sense,
but I will be receiving
money again at the
end of this month so I can feed
all bodies in residence.

Then I’m walking down the
hallway and someone
asks me if I’m okay,
then I went down AGAIN.

paramedics got called
I just want to go home
they take me to the ER
and find that my potassium
is low and my heart is good.
I fall over again during a
standing up blood pressure test
as I read the hospital policy
poster that they will not provide
narcotics for pain management.

What the hell? Do people go to the ER
asking for morphine? I freely acknowledge
tht I live under a rock.

I’m glad I was in another county
when I needed a shot in the hip.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe
there are addicts that are not
intending to be addicted to pain meds,
but what do they do for a patient
who comes in with a gun shot wound
or a car accident victim, give them
tea and a cookie and tell them to
bite down on this sterile piece of rope?

ER doc waits for my records
from last week’s ER and find
that they don’t need to do
another CAT scan, but they
want to do an EEG before I
see the neurologist. No
more driving for me I am
home bound, this is a twist
I hadn’t expected. Funny how
the seizure meds I’m on aren’t
working for me as seizure meds

Yeah, I get all the fun.

My case manager must have gone home
but I did get a ride home from a
very nice young woman named Girlie,
the same as my Girlie, who drove me home.
I took her by way of the gas station
cause I live in the boonies
where gas stations are far, far away.
She drove me home, it was the least
I could do to not get her standed
at my house without gas. It’s
beautiful here, but just the same-
go home.

I cancelled appointment #5.
It was too far away and I had
missed it by the time I got my
walking (rolling in a wheelchair
papers/ I have crutches at home.)

Then I had to tackle the
shared custody holiday drive
Eldest Surly Reverie drove to
my former home town where I got
to see my mother and I promptly
fell asleep on her settee. I vaguely
remember feeling Girlie climbing on
my back, 27 pounds of pressure
while sleeping can be quite comforting,
except for the drool.

Time to get up

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Any thoughts on the above post are appreciated! Otherwise, I think I must be living under a rock.

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