Three is a Magic Number

There and back again

In honor of NaBloPoMo, I've decided to fire up the blog again. And thanks to taking about a year off, I surely have something to talk about, right? (Actually, I always have something to talk about. The only question is whether it's worth reading.)

So, let's start with the business of my Lady Business. After all, it was pretty much last year's major theme.

After struggling for almost a year to hold onto my useless and mercenary Lady Business, I finally decided to have the whole shebang ripped out. I'm surprised my insurance company didn't suggest it themselves. "Hey you're not going to be using this stuff any more, right? Cause we're spending a lot of money, you know, trying to keep it under control. Just sayin'. No pressure."

So, I had the surgery. I was anemic when I went into the hospital, there were minor complications (adhesions which led to lots of cutting which led to lots of blood loss, and then a blood transfusion that didn't really take) and I was even more anemic when I came out. But I was hopeful for the future. Once I stop leaking iron out of my body, surely I'll have more energy, right? And once my ovaries are gone, surely my symptoms of polycystic ovarian disease will go away, right? So within a few months I'll be all energetic and have an easier time losing weight, right?

Huh. Turns out I can't blame everything on my body chemistry after all. I'm just fat and lazy in my own right. Bummer.

But at least I'm saving money on insurance copayments* and tampons.

*Will be proven wrong. Stay tuned.

Yes, I had my ovaries removed. I felt defensive about it at first, like I had to have a really good reason. But my GYN and my GP both agreed it was a good idea, so I felt vindicated. They were evil and needed to be destroyed.

The downside? So far, the only downside is that, after spending 6 weeks on the couch, I'm ready to retire. I kinda liked that.

Dear Uterus...

I think we've both seen this coming for a long time. You know things between us have never been great, and your buddies the ovaries don't make it any easier. It's been obvious since January that we're simply growing in different directions. And I realize now I was wrong to try to make you change. I tried to shut your pals the ovaries down, to reduce their influence on you. I tried to stunt your growth. We wanted different things. You wanted to get larger and larger, to bleed all the time, to cramp, to push against my bladder, to be the crazy and unpredictable being that you are. And I needed something different. I just can't live like this any more. It's not you, it's me.

Aw, fuck it. It's you. Sayonara, sucker. And goodbye to your little sidekicks too. 

Misery loves company, but she will never foot the bill

Yesterday I managed to scratch my cornea by getting a chunk of mascara stuck to the inside of my eyelid. That's right. I injured myself by putting on makeup. Think about that for a while. It's truly pitiful, isn't it? It was my good eye, so it was a little scary, wondering if I'd leave the doctor's office with an eye patch, but they don't do that any more. (If I haven't mentioned it here before, I have a good eye. My other eye is my evil eye. Ha. Just kidding. Or maybe not.) Unfortunately, they also don't do anesthetic drops any more, because people would keep using them to mask increasing pain and end up with gigantic eye ulcers and sit there saying "but it doesn't hurt!" So I've spent 1.5 days (so far) feeling like I got soap in my eye just because some people are stupid.

Anyway. J spent the weekend helping our nephew put a new roof on his house, and he was still quite worn out yesterday evening. We sat there drooping in the living room, marinating in our misery, and I said "I think the level of self pity in this house is at a 7." Last night, Boo came into our room at 3:00 (so I guess it was actually this morning, wasn't it?) and said she couldn't sleep. When I left for work, she complained that she was tired and had a headache. So tonight, I think our household self pity level will go up a couple of notches.

Great vengeance and furious anger

All right, I'm naming names. "Slow Fucking Specialized Pharmacy" is actually named Accredo. To those of you who got here by googling Accredo, welcome. You'll want to read this post.

Now. Accredo called me last Thursday to tell me they were ready to send me prescription. For those of you counting, that's six working days after I originally contacted them. And that's with a "rush" order. I told them I didn't need it until February (after all, I already had my January dose, thanks to my ONCE IN A LIFETIME OVERRIDE) so they said they would ship it Tuesday the 19th (since Monday was a holiday) for delivery on Wednesday the 20th. They asked where I wanted it sent, and I asked if a signature was required, because no one is home during the day so I could have it sent to my office if necessary. They said they could send it without a signature required as long as I agreed to accept the liability if it was stolen from my doorstep. I agreed. They even recorded my agreement, so apparently this is somewhat important. They also told me the medication would need to be refrigerated.

So, this morning I had a message on my cell phone from UPS, warning me that my next-day air delivery was scheduled for today and that a signature was required. And oh, by the way, no changes can be made to this until delivery has already been attempted. Um, hello? Signature required? WTF?

Back to Accredo. The person I talked to said she would contact a supervisor and try to get the signature requirement removed from my package before delivery. And she apologized for putting me on hold for two minutes. But interestingly, she did not apologize for the fact that the delivery was bungled in the first place, which is a lot more annoying than being on hold for two minutes. And is there anything else our pharmacist can do for you? No, thank you. You've been SO helpful.

(Actually, some Xanax would be good too...)

The thing is, I don't know if any of this is even necessary. Accredo claims my med needs to be refrigerated, which is the only issue at this point. Beloved Local Pharmacy said it didn't. And I don't remember anything on the packaging saying it did. So it's quite possibly a moot point. But I don't care at this point. Those miserable fuckers (again, I apologize for the language, but nothing else will do) have screwed me more than enough and they are going to get the Samuel L. Jackson treatment (as J says).

I have to admit I take a little bit of glee in the fact that they do not have my credit card number and I don't think there's any way they could get any money out of me. And I'm almost looking forward to the opportunity to say "You morons sent me $700 worth of meds that need to be refrigerated and couldn't bother to follow the shipping instructions we agreed to, the ones YOU recorded, and you really think you're going to get a copay out of me?" But I don't think it's going to go down that way. Cause that would be too sweet. What's probably going to happen is they'll intercept it before UPS tries to deliver, or they'll say "Oh, refrigerate? No, we were wrong about that, it's just fine sitting in the UPS truck overnight," or some other anticlimactic end. So I'll probably have no excuse to go medieval on their ass. No Sam Jackson this time. But he's waiting in the wings. And he's trying real hard, Ringo.

And now, for googling purposes... Accredo Medco specialized pharmacy Accredo complaints Accredo customer service Accredo just generally sucks ass and I'm considering complaining to the insurance commissioner about the fact that I am forced to use these losers.

A long, convoluted story about my Lady Business

Otherwise known as "the post J might not want to read."

I'm having Female Problems. As usual, anything involving my Lady Businesss is a fucking soap opera (sorry for the language, but really, nothing else will do at this point). Let's just say that, at the wrong time in my cycle, for no good reason, and for way too long, the alert level has been hovering between orange and red.

When I called my gyn's office, their response was "Yeah, remember that hysterectomy we offered you at any time (backstory: enlarged uterus, many fibroids, just an unpleasant mess)?  Are you ready to schedule it?" Well, no, not really. First, although a large portion of my Lady Business is completely useless, I'm still not keen on having any of it sliced out of my body. Second, there is talk of RIFs at my employer, and this is not a good time for anyone to say "Hey, Tracy's been gone for 6-8 weeks, and production hasn't been affected at all. Hmmm." Third, I occasionally do accomplish something around here, and this is not a good time in my current project to take off for several weeks. Fourth, my previous gyn (one of the three I ran out of town) suggested endometrial ablation; can't we do that instead? Well, maybe.

The nurse gives me the option to inject some kick-ass drug to calm things down and also hopefully shrink my uterus to the point that we can do ablation. Unfortunately, the drug costs $500-$700 per month (I laughed at this point... because it's all so ridiculous, and because, ironically, that's what we were paying for infertility treatment when we were doing IUIs, and that's with insurance). But some insurers cover it. I make a phone call and, what do you know! Mine does! They're the good guys for once! (Remember this for later.) Is there anything special I need to do? NO! (Again, remember this for later.) Awesome! I call the nurse and tell her to call it into my Beloved Local Pharmacy.

When I get home, there's a message from Beloved Local Pharmacy saying that my insurer has rejected their attempt to order the Magic Drug because it has to go through their Specialized Pharmacy. Well, crap. If I wanted my insurer to decide what provider I could use, I'd have joined an HMO. Oh well. Call the Specialized Pharmacy. Yes, we can get that for you. Our pharmacy tech will call your doctor to arrange for it, and we offer overnight shipping, aren't we awesome? Oh, and it will take about 7 working days. So, do you want it shipped to the doctor's office or to your house?

Hold on. Seven days? No, seven working days, which means a week and a half?

Well, it normally takes seven working days. I'll put a rush on it.

So how long will it take now?

I really can't say.

You can't say? Can you guess?

Well, I don't want to tell you something and then have that not be true. It takes some time for our pharmacists, I mean pharmacy techs, to get to your file.

Can you, for example, tell me that there's no way it's going to be done in less than 24 hours, just so I'll know what to expect? I promise I won't hold you to it.

Well, it might be three to four working days.

Ooooh kay. This is Wednesday. Nothing's happening this week, obviously. I'm sorry, I know this is not your fault, but I really do not consider this good customer service. (And, again, if I wanted to be treated like this, I would join an HMO.)

I'm sorry. Anything else I can help you with?

(sigh) No, thank you. Looks like another week or so between orange and red.

The next day I called our benefits coordinator at work and said, seriously? Is there nothing I can do? Is there any way to get around working with Slow Fucking Specialized Pharmacy? She gave me a contact at Health Insurer (prescription insurance comes from a separate provider, for some reason). Health Insurance Lady was nice and helpful and once she understood what I was asking, she said "You're eligible for a one-time override to fill this locally, since it's a new prescription." I said I wish I had known that, since I told the lady at Slow Fucking Specialized Pharmacy that I was very distressed at having to wait a week or more to begin this therapy, and her response was, "Sorry."

"Idiots." <- I'm 90% sure she said that, it was kind of under her breath.

Anyway, she said, I'd need to find a local pharmacy that has it on hand - a national chain, not a mom & pop - and have my doctor call it in to that pharmacy. And that I'd need to call to get the override. Unfortunately, I left my notes at work and couldn't remember who to call when I got home. I called Health Insurer and they were clueless and said they'd have someone call me back.

I called Prescription Insurer this morning after finding my notes on my desk and was chided by their automated answering system for calling the wrong number. I then tried to explain what I needed. The person I was talking to had never heard of a one-time override and couldn't find anything about it in her system. "They're keeping it a secret," I said, not adding "Because it might help a patient." I politely asked if her supervisor might know more, and after some clicks, I was sent to a supervisor who was actually at Slow Fucking Specialized Pharmacy (A Division of Prescription Insurer - that's not conflict of interest at all, is it? "If you buy expensive meds, you have to buy them from us." Isn't something wrong here? But I digress).

The supervisor told me that yes, I was entitled to a ONE TIME ONLY override. "And one time only means ONCE IN YOUR LIFETIME." And yes, she did say that in bold, italics, and all caps.

Shit. Do I use it on this, or keep it in my pocket for a more dire situation?

Yeah, I think I'll use it.

I know Big Chain Pharmacy has it in stock, so how does this work? She tells me to give my prescription to Big chain, it will be denied, and then I need to call them and request my ONCE IN A LIFETIME OVERRIDE. Shit. I've never had to do anything with Big Chain that requires actual customer service. Can they handle this? I know Beloved Local Pharmacy would be able to do it. Oh well.

And then I get the phone call from Beloved Local Pharmacy. Health Insurer has called them, they have the ONCE IN A LIFETIME OVERRIDE, and they are ordering my Magic Drug. Awesome. It won't be here until tomorrow (Saturday), which means I can't actually get it injected until Monday, but things are finally, finally, slowly moving along.

So, why was it that I was reluctant to have chunks of my Lady Business removed? Because right now I'd like to tackle it myself, with a swig of vodka and an X-acto knife.

The kicker? The Magic Drug is also used to treat cancer. Can you imagine being diagnosed with cancer and then having to go through all of this shit? It makes me want to cry.

This is how people get started on meth, maybe...

Twenty four hours ago I was in bed with a fever, body aches, and a horrible spasmodic cough that left me gasping for air like a just-caught fish, and I was praying for a quick death. I woke up this morning at 7:00 a.m. and showered, did laundry, took the kid shopping, cleaned my bathroom, did more laundry, cooked supper, did more laundry, cleaned my bedroom, and had to stop myself from cleaning the kitchen because I was feeling a little dizzy. How did this happen? Part of it was a pretty heavy duty antibiotic. But I suspect a big part of it was my old friend methylprednisone, which I last met in injectible form with a slightly different name. 

When the doctor (not Dr New and Improved, or even Dr Sparkle, but Dr Take Your Best Shot at the Random Walkin Clinic, who turned out to be surprisingly nice and diligent) said he was going to prescribe a pill version of that particular steroid, I was a bit concerned. When J brought it back from the pharmacist and said "Heather said you'll probably have the same sleep issues, and it also tends to make people a little grumpy" it didn't make me feel any better. But still, you know, praying for death and all that. It seemed like a decent alternative.

Who knows if I'll sleep tonight. But if I could manage to get my hands on this stuff, maybe one week a month? My whole damn house would finally be clean.

(Also? Am I the only person who has to decide whether or not to call in sick before I put on makeup? Because once I've gone that far, I'm not going to waste it - I'm going to work.)

(Also also? Does anyone else feel like you need to do something productive while you're home sick? Or am I the only who says "As soon as the dizziness stops, I'm going to vacuum the living room." Why do we feel that way?)

Weak and tingly

So I'm sitting there at home the other evening, nursing a minor cold and minding my own business, when I hear J come home so I get up and... whoa. Why do I feel weird? Light-headed and tingly and weak. Now, J has been known to leave me light-headed and tingly and weak, but not when I'm in the living room and he's in the kitchen. It was that loopy feeling you get when you've taken a pain med or a muscle relaxer (and sadly, I had been indulging in neither). I decided it was the result of my cold, and went to bed early. I woke up a few hours later feeling even worse, and spent some time worrying about what it could be. I finally decided it must be the effects of too much caffeine (I normally try to avoid the stuff, but I'd had a headache that day and drank two cans of Coke at work, and one at home).

When my alarm went off I felt even more worse, and I suddenly realized that it couldn't possibly be caffeine-related, since the Coke I'd drank that day was caffeine-free (which, yeah, explains why it didn't help my headache either). I announced to J that I was going to the doctor, which always sends him into a panic because normally, if he pointed out I was bleeding out of my eye, I would say "Yeah, but it's not my good eye. I'll see how it feels tomorrow." The truth is, I had decided that it was either Guillain-Barré Syndrome or impending aortic dissection. Dr. New and Improved was on vacation for the next three weeks (three weeks? seriously?) so I snagged an appointment with someone I'd never seen before. I'm going to call her Dr. Sparkle because it turns out she was cute and sparkly and oh so nice.

Dr. Sparkle herself called me out of the waiting room and sat me in an exam room. I love this because I hate explaining myself to the nurse and then having to tell the doctor the exact same thing. As soon as I said I felt like I'd taken pain meds, I saw a light of recognition in her eyes. Aha, I thought. Fatal Familial Insomnia. Instead, she asked me how my ears felt. Fine. Any headache, congestion? Yes, I'm just getting over a cold. "Let's take a look at those ears... yep, I thought so! You have an ear infection!" As Clark Griswold once said, I couldn't have been more surprised if I'd woken up with my head sewn to the carpet. Turns out that an ear infection in adults nicely imitates a good strong dose of Vicodin. Who knew? Well, other than Dr. Sparkle.

Another lovely thing about Dr. Sparkle is that she spent some time talking about the Unpleasant Side Effects of Antibiotics and made sure to prescribe something for that. I think we spent more time discussing the Unpleasant Side Effects of Antitiotics than the actual ear infection. Bottom line, I lurve her. Got me a new back-up doctor. Sorry, Dr. Previously, you have been sent to the farm team.

Now... is this painful blister on my foot really athlete's foot? Or is it a parasite burrowing its way upstream?

This is your brain on drugs...

i've been disenchanted with my "family practice" doctor for a while.* I told myself the problem was that he and I were too much alike - he is a "wait and see" kind of doctor, and I am a "wait and see" kind of patient, and I just can't make him understand that by the time I finally make an appointment, I have done all of the waiting and seeing that I am willing or able to do, and I want things to move along. But I perservered. Then I started hearing good things about his new partner, decided to give her a try, and was suitably impressed.

So, I saw Dr. New And Improved yesterday for my annual persistent non-productive annoying hacking cough, which she diagnosed as allergies (big surprise, not) that were not being controlled by fexofenadine** and she prescribed a couple of nasal sprays - one so vile-tasting that it comes with special dosing instructions to make sure none of it drips down your throat. I've been afraid to use it so far.***

Then Dr. NAI said "I'm going to offer you an injection to help clear this up a lot faster."

Me: "I'm going to accept it. What is this injection, and why hasn't anyone ever mentioned it before?"

Dr. NAI: "It's Dexamethasone. It's a steroid. I don't know why no one ever offered it.

Me: "It won't put me to sleep, will it?"

Dr.NAI: "It won't make you sleepy. In fact, it usually revs me up."****

See, this is the annoying part. I have seen Dr. Previously for the same persistent non-productive annoying hacking cough practically every year for the past couple of decades. And has he ever offered me an injection to help clear it up a lot faster? No. Even though he has given it to other patients, including my husband's boss.

Anyway, all was well until about 11:00 last night, when I couldn't get to sleep. Which is kind of important, considering that I get up at 5:10. I kept having the same thoughts cycle obsessively through my mind...

I have to tell L that we can't go to her house this weekend because M and A are coming. I'm so horrible!

Why is that so horrible? I already told her I wasn't sure if we were free.

Because it just is!

Oh my God, M and A are coming, I have to clean the house!

Repeat.

I finally went to sleep around midnight, and woke up again obsessed with the same thoughts, along with some new ones...

Who is going to put sunscreen on Boo when she goes to swimming lessons?

Who do we have to invite to Boo's birthday party? And where am I going to find a cat cake?

I have to clean the house!

Since I can't sleep, why don't I just get the hell out of bed and clean the house? Or straighten my hair? Or write a long apologetic e-mail to L telling her what a bad person I am? Or something else useful? Or file the second toenail on my left foot, since it's catching on the sheets and driving me crazy!

(No, I didn't do any of it.)

Repeat.

I got up and took an antihistamine, which usually knocks me right out. J woke up when I came back to bed and said "You should try to get back to sleep, even if it's close to the time you need to get up."

"Yeah, well, it's 2:00 in the morning."

"Are you okay?"

And then it hit me. "I think it's the shot. She said it revs her up. I think I'm revved up."

DexaMETHasone. Is this related to methamphetamine? How fast is my heart beating?

Could I take a Xanax? Would that kill me? Or make it impossible to wake up in the morning? What do I mean, "in the morning?" It IS morning!

I finally fell back to sleep after several more cycles of obssessive thoughts and two hours of bad television (Bosley hair replacement, anyone?), which gives me a grand total of about three hours of sleep. Good times.

According to Dr. Google, Dexamethasone is simply a corticosteroid used to treat certain forms of arthritis; skin, blood, kidney, eye, thyroid, and intestinal disorders (e.g., colitis); severe allergies; and asthma. Methamphetamines are not mentioned.

Maybe that's just what they want you to think.

Shut up. Paranoia is not one of the listed side effects.

Like they'd be honest about that.

Side effects include insomnia, restlessness, depression, and anxiety. But hey, perhaps I'll get lucky and also end up with increased hair growth and irregular or absent menstrual periods.

They mean hair on your head, right?

I hope so.

So maybe that's why Dr. Previously never gave me the injection - he knew it would send me straight into a drug-induced psychosis. But at least I wouldn't have been coughing.

*I should have fired him the day I saw him for a mystery pain and he said "I have no idea what it is, but I'm sure it's nothing serious." Because that is not an appropriate answer. "It could be either X, Y, or Z, and none of them are serious." That would have worked. "I have no idea what it is, so let's run some tests." That would have worked. But no.

**I lost more hope recently when I called his office to tell him that I stopped taking Allegra because it became "non-preferred" (insurance bastards) and was too expensive. But now that there's a generic version, would he be willing to call in a prescription for just plain old generic fexofenadine? The nurse calls back to say yes, my doctor would be happy to call in a prescription for Allegra, but he wants me to know that my insurance might not cover it. Gee, that sucks. I wonder if there's a generic version.

***Since I know J is reading this, and will bitch at me for not using it, I just did. Ouch. It burns. But no psychosis so far. Knock on wood.

****Yeah, that should have been a sign.

In which I yammer on about the boring doctor appointment, and display a shocking tendency to overuse italics

So, yes, I took the time to play with my cell phone because I was bored in the sleep specialist’s office, what with it being about 45 minutes past my 1:00 appointment time. Even more annoying was the fact that I didn’t really need to be there; this was just a follow-up to say  “yes, I’m wonderful.” So why was I there? Why didn’t I just get up, say goodbye to the rottweiler behind the receptionist’s chair, and leave? Because I had to cover my ass.

See, last time I saw this doctor was right after my sleep study in December. My two part sleep study. The first part being during the night, where I got a total of 6.7 hours asleep (none of it REM sleep). The second part being a “latent sleepiness” test where they see how sleepy you are during the day. The day after your sleep study, in which you got less than 7 hours of sleep, and none of it was REM sleep. A day, in other words, on which you are likely to be much sleepier than normal. I didn’t realize the significance of this until the first follow-up appointment, when he said my daytime test revealed I was very sleepy during the day (ya think?) and, as he left, had the nurse hand me a prescription for a medication to help keep me awake during the day. Or, as it said on the slip, for narcolepsy.

Narcolepsy? WTF? I don’t have narcolepsy. I am sleepy when you keep me from getting good sleep all damn night. And now he has put into my medical record that I have narcolepsy?

"Well," she said, "it just says you have symptoms of narcolepsy.”

Oh, okay. Isn't that like having “symptoms of diarrhea?” Where the symptom is really all that matters?

Anyway, that’s why I made sure to keep my follow-up appointment. So I could say “Wow, I feel great now, and I took the medication but it didn’t make a difference (which is a lie, by the way, I never remembered to take it, even though he said if it didn't work for me, some other options were amphetamines or ritalin, and damn, don't those sound like something I just might want to try???), but I haven’t been falling asleep at all! No narcolepsy here! Nope, not a bit! Be sure to write that in my chart!” Because I can just see that narcolepsy diagnosis coming back to bite me in the butt some day.

(Oh, and why did I have a sleep study in the first place, since I already know I have sleep apnea and have been treating it with a CPAP machine for over 6 years? Because I wanted a new machine, which you can only get if you have a new prescription. And you need a new sleep study for a new prescription.)

And also, I saw a nice corner lot in Nichols Hills available, right on Penn, for $375,000. Yes, that’s three hundred and seventy five. Thousand. Dollars. For an empty lot. Nice to know I couldn’t even afford to pitch a tent in Nichols Hills.

(I AM Bored)Sitting, waiting for

(I AM Bored)Sitting, waiting for dr... Very dull. And so is he, ha ha. Me clever. Did I mention the receptionist dog?