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Name: margalit
Location: Massachusetts, United States Professional writer, educational advocate, opinionated ultra liberal mother of 18 year old twins, living life in the slow lane due to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, congestive heart failure, and diabetes.

email: margalitc at yahoo dot com

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Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Adventures of Withdrawal Woman, PMS Girl & Obnoxious Boy

Today I ended up in huge, red-nosed sobbing tears. In the middle of Walgreens. Where I threw a temper tantrum. Because they are complete asshats and cannot understand my frustration and anger when I desperately need a prescription and they want me to fight with my insurance company. Which I have already done several times, and each time I am assured that the problem has been rectified. And it has not been rectified. Plus, the people I talk to at the insurance company and the people the pharmacy talks to are different branches which Do. Not. Talk. To. Each. Other.

So I started to cry and I could not stop. I mean, I was standing at the pharmacy window sobbing with snot running down my nose and huge gulping ugly crying and I could not stop, not for an instant, and the asshats couldn't even be nice. Or offer me a tissue. Because that would be human and they are not human. I always get the bitchy Russian woman who evidentally believes she is still in Moscow and treats me like I have a nerve bothering her. I hate her and wish she would die.

This is the third time in 3 days I have had fights at the pharmacy. I ordered my Effexor on Wed afternoon, and they told me it would not be ready on Friday. I had enough pills to get me through Sat, but they didn't care because they are not open on weekends. But they promised me they would have it on Monday. I went on Monday and guess what? No pills. Even though it was THEIR mistake that out of the 60 pills they should have given me earlier this month, they instead gave me 23, an odd number since I take two a day. So when I saw that I was running out I panicked. Because Belinda told me that being without Effexor was horrible.

Belinda did not lie. On Sunday I only had one pill left, but I still felt barely OK. On Monday I had none. Today I woke up shaky, horribly nauseated, with leg cramps and foot cramps and abdominal cramps. I was totally disoriented. I couldn't get anything done. Nothing. I wandered around looking like I was doing something, but I didn't do anything. When the doorbell rang I panicked. My HHA was here cleaning, and she answered the door and told my neighbor that I couldn't come to the door. I think he was confused. I think she thought I was insane. I think I am insane.

When Walgreens finally decided they would grant me the good favor of actually filling my prescription, after a half hour of me sobbing uncontrollably and screaming at the entire pharmacy staff that they were stupid (which did not go over well) I asked them if they would please just give me two pills that I could take right now. They REFUSED. Um, had the Rx, had the insurance, and they would not open the bottle and take two pills out before they had filled the whole prescription. In about a half hour. By then if I had a gun, I would have pulled a Jack Bauer and mowed the entire staff. Copy THAT, assholes.

I got a water, and the second, and I mean second I got the pills I tore into the prescription and took some. I was desperate. I am an addict. I admit it. I am physically addicted to these pills and I will never, and I mean never give them up again, not for one day not for one hour not for one second. I will die with a prescription clutched in my cold, dead hands. Take that, Tom Cruise.

Then I had to do some errands, including picking up the cutest stamps at the post office and once again missing the bank while it's open. Because I was holed up in Walgreens curled up in a little ball of angst in their waiting room.

By the time I got home I remembered that, oh yeah, it's Passover and I have not made any food for tonight. Like the turkey. Oy vey! At least turkeys are easy. I got that in the oven in a half hour. Put the gefilte fish up to cook, cleaned up the asparagus so they're ready to broil, and all I need to do is make the stuffing at 6:30. I did it. Miraculously I did it all.

I feel like I've run a marathon of emotions. I still do not have either the Boys or the Girls prescriptions filled because Mass Health is a bunch of stinking, lying bastards that do not care one iota about their clientele's health. They should all, every single one of the, rot in hell. They deserve nothing better.

Aren't I cheery today?

The Boy says, "We've gone one hysteric not on her meds, one bitchy PMSing teenager, and an obnoxiously hyper boy. It's the Adventures of Withdrawal Woman, PMS Girl, and Obnoxious Boy." No kidding.

Oh, I forgot one thing. I stole the water. On purpose. Because they are horrible mean people at Walgreens and I do not feel one bit guilty at all.

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4 Comments:

Blogger Sharon said...

I took Seroxat for post natal depression and felt so BAAAD coming off it so I can really relate to your terrible ordeal. Sometimes I can't believe the way people are in today's society. It's as if they check their feelings at the door of their workplace. {{{hugs}}} to make you feel better.

4/4/07 2:29 AM  
Blogger barbie2be said...

after all that in one day i would have been ready to seriously hurt someone too.

4/4/07 11:30 AM  
Blogger Malady said...

Hi Margalit. I'm not sure if you already got one of these but I nominated you for a Thinking Blogger award...

http://lifebycandlelight.blogspot.com/2007/04/5-blogs-that-make-me-think.html

4/4/07 12:08 PM  
Blogger kitten said...

OI! I sooooo hate insurance commpanies, I think I'd have said bugger off to everyone and just paid for the damn thing, but I do understand how that could open up a whole 'nother can o' worms for ya too. So sorry you had to deal with that! Come move to Oz where the gov't actually subsidises the stuff, Ohhhh I could go on about how wonderful healthcare here is compared to the USA. I am glad it's the weekend and things will start to look up now that you have your Effexor. BTW, you are NOT an addict you're dependent which is a whole different kettle of fish dear lady. It is also less stigmatising *grin*

6/4/07 3:16 AM  

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