The Medication Tango
Dec. 6th, 2002 01:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pameladeanI'm taking four antihypertensives, most at fairly high doses. They are working, which is not something I could have said three months ago.
Despite having had this condition since January, I am not used to it. Two of the drugs are prescriptions; I get them at the HCMC pharmacy, which apparently will go on handing you drugs and billing you for them forever, regardless of what the Accounting Department thinks. (There may be a limit to their forebearance that I have not reached yet.) I get one month's worth at a time, and they are not, naturally, on the same schedule, since they were prescribed at different times and the dose upped at even more random intervals.
The other two I get free samples of from the Multispeciality Clinic, where I was sent to see a nephrologist so she could do expensive tests and cheerfully inform me that there was nothing wrong with my kidneys whatsoever. I don't mean to be quite that snarky; she also found the drug combination that worked. And it's nice to know that my kidneys are fine. But I didn't need the bills. At all.
I had figured that when the nephrologist sent me back to the Medicine Clinic, I was on my own for medicine. The Multispecialty Clinic had given me a six months' supply of the alpha blocker and a six weeks' supply of the beta blocker, and I had about a week of beta blocker left. I called the Medicine Clinic and left a message for my CNP saying I needed a prescription for this drug. I wanted to make sure the nephrologist had actually called her. One of the nurses called me back, immediately snagged me for an appointment on the 16th (aiiiiieeee, I just know the moment I set foot in that building my blood pressure will go right back up and the whole nightmare will start all over) and said the nephrologist had put a note in my file saying that her clinic had a large supply of what she was pleased to call "this agent," so that "the patient should not have to pay for it."
I called the Multispeciality Clinic, and Linda, the nurse who had been in charge of me, called back and said yep, they had lots, when did I want to come by? That was cheering. I don't know how much this stuff costs, but given that the discount pharmacies on the web don't even carry it (it's an extended-release form; they carry the basic drug all right), it's probably a lot.
I was also about out of the ACE inhibitor, which is one of the prescription drugs, so I called the refill line and got that one lined up for Thursday, the same day I'd told Linda I'd come by.
On Thursday I got up and bolted a banana with the diuretic and the beta blocker, and saw that I'd miscounted the Ace inhibitor pills. I was out today. This is not a tremendously big deal; I'd been off that one when they did the renogram, because they like to give you a different nifty fast-acting version of the same kind of drug for that, and I knew it wouldn't kill me at all to be a few hours late taking it. Besides, I had forgotten not a week earlier to take ANY of the morning medication, and that hadn't killed me either. Not having it made me twitchy all the same. I would like ten years' supply of my medication in a sealed climate-controlled vault, THANK YOU. And mine aren't nearly so critical to survival as a lot of people's.
This story sounds as if it is going to be a comedy of errors any moment, but it isn't. I went to the pharmacy, the prescription was ready, I took my daily dose on the spot, since lisinopril can be taken "without regard to meals." Poor meals, so disregarded. I went over to the Multispeciality Clinic. Instead of handing me a bag, the receptionist said, "Linda will be right with you." For what, I thought. It costs forty dollars for them to take my blood pressure, and anyway it would be weird because I'd walked over from Nicollet and I hadn't taken the lisinopril on time.
Linda came out with a bright purple Nexium bag filled with what turned out to be twelve weeks' worth of my beta blocker, and the news that she really loved my book. I found out while we were sitting around in the hour before the renogram that she was a great reader, and she found out that I was a writer, so at the last appointment I'd brought her a copy of JUNIPER, GENTIAN, AND ROSEMARY. She likes Tom Clancy, so I wasn't sure how it would go over, but she said she loved it, she loved the characters, it was a joy to read. Since I didn't expect to see her at all, this must have been sincere. She's a very blunt person and wouldn't lie to me anyway. So I went off quite happily clutching my purple bag.
I got a bunch of necessary stuff at Target -- it's so cool to have one downtown -- and finally fled because it's so long since I went shopping that I had a mad urge to buy underwear and socks and flannel pajamas and dishpans and saucepans and telescopes.
When I got home there was a postcard from HCMC telling me I needed to schedule a mammogram for January. I just had one last one year. They can forget that. Maybe if they are very, very good I'll have one next year. Maybe.
I think I am perhaps not coping altogether well with having a chronic controllable health problem. I should think about that.
Pamela
Despite having had this condition since January, I am not used to it. Two of the drugs are prescriptions; I get them at the HCMC pharmacy, which apparently will go on handing you drugs and billing you for them forever, regardless of what the Accounting Department thinks. (There may be a limit to their forebearance that I have not reached yet.) I get one month's worth at a time, and they are not, naturally, on the same schedule, since they were prescribed at different times and the dose upped at even more random intervals.
The other two I get free samples of from the Multispeciality Clinic, where I was sent to see a nephrologist so she could do expensive tests and cheerfully inform me that there was nothing wrong with my kidneys whatsoever. I don't mean to be quite that snarky; she also found the drug combination that worked. And it's nice to know that my kidneys are fine. But I didn't need the bills. At all.
I had figured that when the nephrologist sent me back to the Medicine Clinic, I was on my own for medicine. The Multispecialty Clinic had given me a six months' supply of the alpha blocker and a six weeks' supply of the beta blocker, and I had about a week of beta blocker left. I called the Medicine Clinic and left a message for my CNP saying I needed a prescription for this drug. I wanted to make sure the nephrologist had actually called her. One of the nurses called me back, immediately snagged me for an appointment on the 16th (aiiiiieeee, I just know the moment I set foot in that building my blood pressure will go right back up and the whole nightmare will start all over) and said the nephrologist had put a note in my file saying that her clinic had a large supply of what she was pleased to call "this agent," so that "the patient should not have to pay for it."
I called the Multispeciality Clinic, and Linda, the nurse who had been in charge of me, called back and said yep, they had lots, when did I want to come by? That was cheering. I don't know how much this stuff costs, but given that the discount pharmacies on the web don't even carry it (it's an extended-release form; they carry the basic drug all right), it's probably a lot.
I was also about out of the ACE inhibitor, which is one of the prescription drugs, so I called the refill line and got that one lined up for Thursday, the same day I'd told Linda I'd come by.
On Thursday I got up and bolted a banana with the diuretic and the beta blocker, and saw that I'd miscounted the Ace inhibitor pills. I was out today. This is not a tremendously big deal; I'd been off that one when they did the renogram, because they like to give you a different nifty fast-acting version of the same kind of drug for that, and I knew it wouldn't kill me at all to be a few hours late taking it. Besides, I had forgotten not a week earlier to take ANY of the morning medication, and that hadn't killed me either. Not having it made me twitchy all the same. I would like ten years' supply of my medication in a sealed climate-controlled vault, THANK YOU. And mine aren't nearly so critical to survival as a lot of people's.
This story sounds as if it is going to be a comedy of errors any moment, but it isn't. I went to the pharmacy, the prescription was ready, I took my daily dose on the spot, since lisinopril can be taken "without regard to meals." Poor meals, so disregarded. I went over to the Multispeciality Clinic. Instead of handing me a bag, the receptionist said, "Linda will be right with you." For what, I thought. It costs forty dollars for them to take my blood pressure, and anyway it would be weird because I'd walked over from Nicollet and I hadn't taken the lisinopril on time.
Linda came out with a bright purple Nexium bag filled with what turned out to be twelve weeks' worth of my beta blocker, and the news that she really loved my book. I found out while we were sitting around in the hour before the renogram that she was a great reader, and she found out that I was a writer, so at the last appointment I'd brought her a copy of JUNIPER, GENTIAN, AND ROSEMARY. She likes Tom Clancy, so I wasn't sure how it would go over, but she said she loved it, she loved the characters, it was a joy to read. Since I didn't expect to see her at all, this must have been sincere. She's a very blunt person and wouldn't lie to me anyway. So I went off quite happily clutching my purple bag.
I got a bunch of necessary stuff at Target -- it's so cool to have one downtown -- and finally fled because it's so long since I went shopping that I had a mad urge to buy underwear and socks and flannel pajamas and dishpans and saucepans and telescopes.
When I got home there was a postcard from HCMC telling me I needed to schedule a mammogram for January. I just had one last one year. They can forget that. Maybe if they are very, very good I'll have one next year. Maybe.
I think I am perhaps not coping altogether well with having a chronic controllable health problem. I should think about that.
Pamela
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no subject
Date: 2002-12-06 12:20 pm (UTC)It's an outrage to have to think about your health and keep track of medications and things all the time when you should be able to just be normal and go back to your real life. It's okay to have to pay close attention to your health and visit lots of doctors when a crisis occurs, but it's very hard to accept that that's how things are going to be, day in and day out, for the forseeable future. I always resented the hell out of it.
I sympathize. Not in an "oooh, poor Pamela" sort of way, but in a "damn it, I've been there, and it's not fun at all" sort of way.
no subject
Date: 2002-12-06 06:09 pm (UTC)It would be easier in many ways if we had health insurance, but the core would remain the same.
Pamela