It's a disconcerting feeling, to sense the depression and inertia coming on and being utterly incapable of doing anything about it.

In a sense, your ability to be cheerful and productive hangs on your ability to ingest one tiny pill, about half the size of your smallest fingernail.

Of course, when you can't get the pills, you are stuck, raving like a lunatic at the pharmacist, begging for your meds.

It's been a week now, since I ran out. I had an appointment with the new doctor set for Friday -- just enough time to get the new Rx written, or so I thought.

I did not count on the vagaries of the new health plan I am on.

Two days before the appointment, my letter of certification finally arrived from the insurance company. In it, was announced the fact that the doctor I had requested from the plan book, was no longer taking new patients.

Another Primary Care Provider (PCP) had been assigned and their name "appears on the face of your insurance card." This is helpful if you have your insurance card. It is not helpful if you do not yet have it.

The following evening I found the card in the mail and noted the name of the new doctor. On the day of the appointment I called to cancel and the receptionist kindly transferred me to the new doctor's office. Another 10 minutes on hold, another receptionist:

"Dr. X's office, may I help you?"

"Yes, I'm a new patient and I would like to do the following: schedule an appointment and get an urgently needed refill on a prescription."

"Okay, has the doctor seen you before?"

<mental sigh>

"No, I am a new patient. I had an appointment with a different doctor, but the Health Plan changed me to this PCP at the last minute. I really need to get this prescription refilled urgently."

"Well ... okay, but the doctor is not going to want to do this without seeing you first. I'll take down your information and let her know."

I list off the numbers on the bottle and wait.

"Is that all?"

"No, I need to schedule an appointment at the next available time."

"Okay hold on."

<sounds of rustling papers>
"Um -- hmmm, oh, you know what, Dr. X is leaving in June, she can't take any new patients either. But I can schedule you with someone on her team."

<sound of my head hitting wall repeatedly>

"Yes, please schedule for the next available appointment with a female doctor."

"Right ... that's not until next Friday, at 2pm with Dr. Z. Would you like me to pencil you in?"

"Yes please"

"Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you"

"Okay then we'll see you next week, bye-bye now."


That was on Friday afternoon, just after lunchtime.
I assumed this meant that my prescription would be available for pick up at CVS on Friday night.

I was wrong.

It wasn't there on Saturday either.

Yesterday, I started to feel it -- the wooziness, the inertia, the threatening depression. In desperation, I begged one of the physicians that I work with to call in my Rx for me.

Dr. Y was happy to oblige and spoke quite firmly with the pharmacist, making sure she got all of the information and to boot, gave me enough refills to last until the end of the year. Finally. No more running around every three months, trying to get my prescription called in.

You'd think this would be where the happy ending comes in.

But you'd be wrong. Ha!

Yesterday evening, sabs and tumble into CVS, all smiles because this problem has finally been resolved.

But when we arrived at the counter and I gave the pharmacist my name, she frowned and rummaged around with some papers, found my labels all printed up and then smiles at me apologetically.

"I'm sorry, but we're all out of that dosage."

This is where I nearly hit the ceiling.

Leaning over the counter with a dangerous gleam in my eye, I pronounced the following:

"Look, I'm already a week behind. I need this medecine RIGHT NOW. If you don't have my dosage, do you at least have the half-dosage? I'll take double pills, but I HAVE to have my medecine!"

Looking mildly disturbed by the maniac with the bristling hair, the pharmacy girl went toddling into the back and returned two seconds later brandishing a blank bottle.

"Here you are ma'am, that should hold you until Wednesday when we get more in. Don't forget to take two."

I gave her my best sugary sweet smile and said thank you and stalked out the door.

This morning, I crashed. I knew it was coming. But there wasn't much I could do about it, except glumly pop my pills and pray that they started working sooner rather than later.

They started working sooner. But not soon enough to get me into work today.

Hypothroidism is a bitch.

To add insult to injury, the pharmacy girl forgot to give me back my new insurance card.

Here's hoping they don't lose it.

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