Draft number five on a Monday
I have written four complete posts that have completely failed to capture what I’m wanting to say. They each end up in the same place and then I dump them into drafts, deleting the oldest version each time I saved.
I had a good weekend, I think. I slept a lot, dreamed a lot…none of it was very scary or upsetting though. I just dreamed of work and losing work, of missing retail shifts and trying to come up with reasons for it. I did a lot of laundry and showered frequently. At least my dreams are clean and my hygiene is always on point.
I’ve been suffering with a very angry stomach for the last week or so. I’ve been trying to get into see my doc because I need her to write a new scrip to take to the hospital pharmacist. I panicked the last time I filled it and did so at a small pharmacy attached to my doctor’s office. The bloody thing was $100 for a month and I also filled my birth control so that total came to over $200 last time (D freaked!) I’ve tried to get a new scrip called into the hospital pharmacy but they’ll only allow that if you’ve handed in an original scrip at some point. Because I didn’t fill the first one there, I have no original to give them.
Anyway, with all the stress of the last month I really didn’t feel up to getting an appointment, waiting hours to get the scrip then driving across town to get it filled. I just kept putting it off (only by days, mind you) because I couldn’t get anyone to answer the damn phone at my doc’s office.
Over the weekend I had a little shot of our special scotch…celebrating D’s success at his new job. It was sooooo not a good idea in retrospect. I couldn’t even bend over without acid flooding up to the back of my throat, scalding me all the way. I almost threw up acid every time I rolled over in the night, sitting up or otherwise and everything I ate or drank, including water, made everything worse. (Aloe Juice worked a minor miracle last night as I guzzled a litre and a half trying to do anything to cool my stomach down).
Of course, I tried to see my doc today but she wasn’t available so I returned to the pharmacy where I first filled the scrip and asked for a refill. Another $100 on the credit card. I’ll have to submit this to benefits fast before it drags out too long and they don’t pay me if my employment terminates. I don’t want to tell D I did that again but I had little choice. I feel like my esophagus is singed beyond repair.
So…after paying my $100 I stopped and got myself a peppermint tea and a few little donuts to eat after I take my pill. It has to be taken 30 min before food so your stomach makes less acid to digest it with. Waiting that out then nibbling on a few donuts to see if I can get some relief.
Scary, how haywire things go when I miss a med for a few short days. I’ve learned my lesson on the pain killers and now on the stomach meds.
SO positive thoughts. Things are going well for D at his new job. He’s making a bit more money and he’s having a lot of fun, learning new stuff and flexing his muscles for his new boss. He’s a really good employee and he’s learned some incredible interpersonal skills these last few years. I’m so happy for him and, as an added bonus, it takes a tiny bit of heat off of me. If he can at least pay our rent and a few scraps of food, we’ll survive no matter what happens to me. That was so refreshing to think about for a change.
(Holy crap I took a pill about 15 minutes ago and I can already feel the acid dissolving in my stomach. ‘Dissolving’ is the wrong word but it feels that way…like watching jello go from powder to liquid. Still not quite able to chug down a coffee but then, that’s being entirely too optimistic).
**mmm holy smokes I just ate a donut hole that tastes like cherry! Wow was that ever good. Cherries and cream maybe? Sour cream glaze too. That went down well!**
lol..okay, working on being positive…apparently not there quite yet. I enjoyed my little donut holes though and this tea is actually not causing pain to ingest! It’s enough for me right now. I don’t have a headache that makes me want to vomit, nor is my pain vibrant enough to take my attention away from everything else. I’d be very productive today if I had work to do that didn’t make me feel … well… shitty. It’s 230…I’ll dabble in something productive for the last hour or so. I’ve been looking on job boards and applying for everything within 10K of my current salary. Less, too, honestly. I just want to get out of here. I can always keep looking once that happens, I just need some security in a full-time job. Two more weeks and then I hit the community more so than the hospital. I figure I might as well try to stay inside if I can.
That said, the realization that most people who work here are assholes is sort of screaming in my face just now. The dismissal of those physicians the moment I mentioned their patients was appalling. They reminded me of all those exec meetings where patients were barely discussed, as if they were a byproduct of this industry rather than the actual driver. The faces some of them would make…the scoffs. I remember, vividly, a heated debate among a room full of physicians over whether they should or should not have to wash their hands upon entering the building. Seriously. Hours were spent on this. All the while patients were strapped into stretchers lining the hallways of Emergency awaiting assessments and beds to be admitted to.
Reminds me of the first dick of a boss I worked for here. I can’t give specifics due to not wanting to get sued by this place, but he was an emerg physician. He liked to show off his support staff by having me meet him in chart rooms while on shift to have impromptu meetings regarding his administrative activities. One of those meetings, there was a kid on a stretcher right outside the chart room door. He was in obvious distress, moaning, shaking violently, unable to find a comfortable place to rest. He seemed deep in the throes of withdrawal. I could see the tracks in his skin from where I sat and my heart went out to him. He was maybe 20…poor kid. So young to be that messed up. He was making a bit of noise though, and my boss found it irritating. He shot the kid several nasty glances designed to get him to shut up with all his suffering in the hallway and, eventually, the boss got up, walked into the hallway, rolled the kid’s stretcher a feet down the hall so we could no longer see him (or he us) and then slammed the chart room door upon returning to conclude his meeting with me.
How sad is that?
The worst part? The longer I’m here, the more I see of this. I feel like standing up in a meeting and asking if anyone actually gives a shit about their patients.
I know for a fact that every pediatric doc we saw for Colt was only seeing him because I pulled strings. Every doc who has seen me for my issues with chronic pain, joint pain etc, dismissed me. I kind of understand more now, as they were all privy to the MRI results I wasn’t given, but still, not one person mentioned it…just blew me off and left me hanging. One doc walked out of the exam room in the middle of my appointment and never came back. I cried all the way home that day. The ortho guy laughed at me, flat out. “Ha haha! Who told you that?” he tittered when D tried to explain what we thought the neuro had told us.
I’ve lost my faith in the Canadian health care system. They’ve failed me as a patient, failed my son, and, now they fail as an employer. I’m not sure why I thought this would be a job about helping people. Really, it’s just a place for rich doctors to get their ego stroked. Shitty…knowing this. But, I guess it’s better than being oblivious.
(Uhh Grainne? That wasn’t very cherry you realize…?) lol…got carried away there. Here…I’ll end on a positive: It’s 239. Only 1 hr 21 minutes to go.