It's taken me a while to sit down to write this, the previous drama happened on the Friday afternoon before my kids were off school for a week. It was... busy.
After my last post, which was partly to share and partly because if I don't record details in the moment they get lost forever to the ether in my brain, I spent the evening in helpless tears. This unnerved Himself to the point that he offered to try and call someone on my behalf. Anyone who knows Himself knows that he hates making phone calls, to the point that when we first got together he made me place all takeaway orders. *lol* He has graduated to calling the local Indian, but he's still not a fan.
Of course, there was nobody he could call that I couldn't have called (or had already called) myself, and I don't know if anyone would have even spoken to him in the first place. The offer was still appreciated.
The weekend passed, and I continued to take my pills in the hope that I'd find a solution before I ran out. Monday morning I went into town to ask Hillingdon Healthwatch if they had any guidance. They suggested I call 111, which I honestly had never considered. I've used 111 before, to ask about symptoms exhibited by the kids etc., but I hadn't thought that they might be able to circumvent the usual system. The person who took my call was extremely lovely about it, she took all the details and said she'd have a clinician call me back. Between that and when the clinician did call, the GP surgery called to tell me they had squeezed me into the blood pressure wait list and could see me the following Wednesday (today). Of course, by then if I didn't find a way to get more medication, I would have been out of pills for three days.
The clinician called back, and while she was completely appalled by the way this whole situation has been handled, she was unable to get me more meds. This was a bit of a theme. Everyone I spoke to was sympathetic, offered unprompted opinions on the insanity of messing with my chemistry so regularly, and wished they could help. If wishes were horses...
The unexpected side journey this went down was this. In the back and forthing, the clinician at 111 had called my GP to see if they could get me an emergency psych appointment anywhere. When they did, they called the GP listed as my primary care physician... the one I haven't seen in almost two years, because the last time I saw him he messed with my ADHD meds against all guidelines. Imagine my surprise when my phone rang, and it was him on the line.
The conversation went as follows:
Now, I'm torn between elation that I can stop stressing out about running out of meds and total abject terror that this lunatic has access to a prescription pad.
As we speak, I'm medicated, sitting on my couch with a blood pressure monitor in a little crossbody bag that takes my levels every half hour. The readings so far? Totally normal.
After my last post, which was partly to share and partly because if I don't record details in the moment they get lost forever to the ether in my brain, I spent the evening in helpless tears. This unnerved Himself to the point that he offered to try and call someone on my behalf. Anyone who knows Himself knows that he hates making phone calls, to the point that when we first got together he made me place all takeaway orders. *lol* He has graduated to calling the local Indian, but he's still not a fan.
Of course, there was nobody he could call that I couldn't have called (or had already called) myself, and I don't know if anyone would have even spoken to him in the first place. The offer was still appreciated.
The weekend passed, and I continued to take my pills in the hope that I'd find a solution before I ran out. Monday morning I went into town to ask Hillingdon Healthwatch if they had any guidance. They suggested I call 111, which I honestly had never considered. I've used 111 before, to ask about symptoms exhibited by the kids etc., but I hadn't thought that they might be able to circumvent the usual system. The person who took my call was extremely lovely about it, she took all the details and said she'd have a clinician call me back. Between that and when the clinician did call, the GP surgery called to tell me they had squeezed me into the blood pressure wait list and could see me the following Wednesday (today). Of course, by then if I didn't find a way to get more medication, I would have been out of pills for three days.
The clinician called back, and while she was completely appalled by the way this whole situation has been handled, she was unable to get me more meds. This was a bit of a theme. Everyone I spoke to was sympathetic, offered unprompted opinions on the insanity of messing with my chemistry so regularly, and wished they could help. If wishes were horses...
The unexpected side journey this went down was this. In the back and forthing, the clinician at 111 had called my GP to see if they could get me an emergency psych appointment anywhere. When they did, they called the GP listed as my primary care physician... the one I haven't seen in almost two years, because the last time I saw him he messed with my ADHD meds against all guidelines. Imagine my surprise when my phone rang, and it was him on the line.
The conversation went as follows:
Him: "It's Dr. G, what's going on?"
Me: (thinking oh Lord, I don't want to deal with this guy, giving him a bare bones explanation of the situation)
Him: "That's ridiculous, I've seen your blood pressure, your blood pressure is fine."
Me: (studiously not pointing out he hasn't seen me in almost two years and I could be a hundred pounds heavier and a pack a day smoker by now)
Him: "So what do you want, do you want a prescription?"
Me: (shocked silence) "Dr. S said she wasn't able to help me with that..."
Him, verbatim: "I'm a GP, I can do whatever I want. What's your dose?"
Me: (stunned, gives him the info)
Him: "That's all done."
Me: "Thanks, that will at least get me to the appointment with the new psychiatrist."
Him: "If you need more, let me know, I'll give you more."
Now, I'm torn between elation that I can stop stressing out about running out of meds and total abject terror that this lunatic has access to a prescription pad.
As we speak, I'm medicated, sitting on my couch with a blood pressure monitor in a little crossbody bag that takes my levels every half hour. The readings so far? Totally normal.
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