Maybe next week something good will happen.

I finally convinced myself that it was ok, and even probably a wise choice, to make an appointment to see my doctor to discuss my inability to deal with every day stressors in a rational matter.

She agreed, (Yay! I’m not stupid! Just crazy!) and wrote me a prescription for Paxil. I was to report back in three weeks to discuss any progress.

I rolled into my local pharmarcy, handed over the piece of paper that said “Crazy j, stay out her way” on it, and left because it was a 40 minute wait. Mr. and I ate dinner (chicken cordon bleu – yum) and we set out on our return trip to the pharmacy.

Upon informing the technician at the counter who I was and what I was there to get, I was promptly reminded (as if I should have forgotten so soon) exactly how huge of a piece of stinky shit American health care is. Because my insurance company, with all of their knowledge of my history (none) decided that Paxil was indeed the incorrect medication for me and they suggest I try three generic alternatives and if I don’t well, hey, that’ll be $109.

Well, thank you, you stupid fucking insensitive assholes. It took all of my courage to make that appointment and tell my doctor what was wrong, and I can’t even begin to explain the relief I felt when she said “I think you should try this, I think it will work for your symptoms that you have just explained to me”. And now, I have to call the doctor again tomorrow, which is causing me more stress (Have you ever had a panic attack, fuckers? Have you? I’ll bet not. They don’t feel very good. AT. ALL.) and Lord only knows how I will get myself to fall asleep tonight, dreading the phone call I have to make to my DOCTOR, who prescribed the medication to me, HER PATIENT, to tell her that my prescription company, who does not employ my doctor, is NOT MY DOCTOR AND HAS NONE OF MY MEDICAL HISTORY ON FILE, well, they think I need something else, doc.

And, in case you haven’t guessed it, I don’t exactly have $109 rolling around, and I certainly can’t pull it out of my ass, and I’d like to put my worn out boot up the ass of whomever decided they know more than my FUCKING DOCTOR.

Paxil is for people with anxiety assholes. People who suffer from panic mother-fucking attacks. And you aren’t letting me have it because I don’t have the fucking money to buy because all of my FUCKING MONEY IS PAYING MOTHER FUCKING HOSPITAL BILLS.

God, just fucking kill me now.

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2 responses to “Maybe next week something good will happen.

  1. Sorry to hear about the insurance company. I’ve totally been there! Hang in, and keep your chin up! It sounds like you have a good doc – I’m sure she’ll do what’s best for you AND what your insurance will pay for. I imagine there’s a happy medium.

  2. Thank you for understanding. They did find me a happy medium.

    And it’s actually working.

    *knocks on wood*

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