Help!

Ready to report that Ativan is a controlled substance. Very controlled.

My old doctor (the new one I was assigned right before I left Utah, mind you, not the one who prescribed my meds) could not fill the prescription because I was already enrolled here. No one told me this until I called the old clinic again, though I sent a detailed message describing my situation the day prior. Yet another dude told me to call Tricare/United Healthcare, which made me want to scream. “As jacked as it sounds, the whole system sucks…”

I had a conversation with a representative named Carlos who apparently thought he couldn’t help me until I had called every doctor on the defunct website list in my quest for a new Primary Care Manager (PCM). Since the numbers I was calling led to disconnected numbers, pediatrics, and neurosurgery, this whole prospect of actually finding someone on the list who was actually at their designated phone number was…hmmm…disconcerting. The phone numbers and addresses were not matching up to actual providers. And the provider I was assigned upon moving here was a floater in urgent care clinics. Apparently there was no way to verify her location or a good phone number for her.

I hung up on Carlos when he told me to take a look at the website with him. Sorry Carlos. “Said no, no, you’re not the one for me…”

My husband (bless him) went to patient advocacy and the Tricare representative at Hill AFB (another acronym, for Air Force Base). Anyhow, the liaison there put me in touch with the liaison here (well, scratch that, pretty close to here, about an hour away at Mountain Home AFB). Two ladies who were better versed in Idaho providers took over an hour to determine that my assigned provider was unavailable. They then assigned me someone who is an actual PCM, taking new patients in my area. “Hallelujah!!!”

Um, well, the new provider has no openings until at least November 5^th. They can’t even make me an appointment until Monday because I’m not in their system. Back at the ranch, I’m running low on meds. “How am I going to be an optimist about this?”

The liaison lady told me they could help me at Mountain Home AFB Urgent Care. So I went there, waited 35 minutes for a pass for my Mom, and went to Urgent Care. The lady there said, oh, hey, sure, we may be able to get you a prescription without even having you seen by a doctor.

“You’re just too good to be true…”

Indeed, dead end. They could only fill narcotics on base and because it’s a weekend, there was no one at the pharmacy. I was told to go to the ER in Mountain Home, and they would help me. As an added bonus, it was again suggested that I call Tricare if I ran into trouble.

I have no idea why a doctor couldn’t just write a prescription to be filled off base considering that a mental patient is about to go off of one of her long term meds. But what do I know?

Went to the ER. Explained the situation. Was told I could only fill the prescription locally when I was in Triage. Ok. No problem. Then I was told they were only allowed to prescribe me five pills.

After all the medical mediocrity of these last weeks, they gave me a lovely bracelet to admit me to the ER. The doctor led me past another patient to a bed with my own curtain for privacy. Then the tears started, silently. I was at my limit. “As the tears of frustration roll down my face…”

When I was released I was told I could fill my prescription anywhere. Does no one know how to do his or her job anymore??? So much conflicting or inaccurate information.

I was diagnosed with Adjustment Disorder and panic attacks. Apparently they thought my tears were an overreaction to a recent, stressful situation. What they didn’t understand was that jumping through flaming hoops tends to singe you a little. “Doctor, doctor, can’t you see I’m burning…?”

So I have ten days of anti-anxiety pills (apparently 10 was the real limit) with no appointment in sight. I was told (har de har har) that I would be better off going to a local urgent care clinic if I needed more medication. But I need a referral from Tricare for that, so chances are slim that it will be covered. Apparently someone with multiple mental disorders does not merit any urgency in the eyes of my particular health care system. But for now, I must “Take a breath and take a seat and take [my] medicine…”

Imagine how difficult it would be to get this medication if I had no insurance.

I wanna be sedated.

(Special thanks to the Beatles, the Jacksons, KT Tunstall, Handel, Bastille, Frankie Valli, Curtis Stigers, the Thompson Twins, Floater, and the Ramones, for making all of these songs in my head possible).