Mother's little helpers....

Well I was going to ease back in my regular blogging with a photo essay of the fungi in my yard but Blogger isn't feeling like uploading at the moment so let me tell you about my latest trip into the world of pharmaceuticals. I went to the doctor five times in seven days. Crazy. I didn't go this often when there was something really wrong with me. The end result being, I'm supposed to get microscanned, hooked up to walking EKG for 24 hours and they changed all my meds.

I didn't get any of the technical stuff done yet but I guess I'll schedule the stuff tomorrow. I was supposed to do it Thursday but I don't like to rush these things. And I kind of want to consolidate visits. Cripes, it's fifteen bucks everytime you walk through the door. The good news is dropping the beta blocker helped the dizziness thing which is why I kept going back in the first place. Doubled my usual BP med with no problem, also good news. The bad news is he doubled my tranq intake and he also put me on Zoloft or some derivative. I took my first one of those today. I don't I like it. If it's supposed to make me less depressed I don't know how. It makes me feel pretty groggy and uninspired. I feel like if I take this one long enough I'll end up in the corner drooling.

I tried to get him to give me Wellbutrin but he wouldn't do it. He thinks it will buzz me out. He just doesn't get that I don't react in the customary way to any stupid pill. I've taken Wellbutrin before to quit smoking and I thought it helped. At least I'm finally used to the tranq so I don't feel so sleepy from that even though I still don't like the "behind a glass wall effect" it has on me. I told the doc that and he looks at me and says, "So you have to decide. What do you want to be, a blob or a nervous wreck." I didn't really have an answer.

Anyway, at this point I may not take the Zoloft and talk him into the Wellbutrin instead. God I really miss Harvey, my old doc, at times like these. He was so easy to talk to and he listened to me when I told him stuff. He wouldn't have made me fight for what I want.

I haven't started the Zocor yet for the cholestorol. I want to wait until all the other new stuff settles down. In fact I don't want to take it at all. I told him I wanted to try hemp oil, as Trish recommended and he looked at me like I had just admitted I had commited an axe murder. "You'll get high," he said. I'm not sure he believed me when I told him it has no THC and it's a legal supplemental that contains all the essential elements a body needs. I told him I'd take the Zocor for now. Apparently my numbers are so bad I shouldn't wait.

The good news is, outside of the Zocor I haven't paid a cent for the most of the prescriptions. My insurance plan pays for generics outright and I mostly take those. Even the Zoloft is a generic form so I'm not out any money if I don't take them. Oddly I've only had one expensive script filled this year and thankfully it's for a one time item.

By the time I got to the office the last time, I had developed an odd rash on my butt. Don't you hate to have to ask anyone to look at your butt? I wouldn't have worried except I thought it might be a spider bite because it started suddenly one morning after I used the toilet and it was so localized. He's got to call in the nurse and the whole bit so I can show him my ass which they duly inspect. He doesn't know what it is but prescribes an ointment and I think okay.

When I picked it up it was fifty freaking dollars. For a tube of glorified polysporin. Of course it did cure the rash in two days but now I have a tube of this stuff as big as a travel toothpaste and it will probably expire before I ever need it again. And you know with all the salespeople that cruise through there, you would have thought he could have slipped me a couple of samples for three lousy pimples on my butt but he probably gets a kickback for prescribing the stuff.

Doctors. They have no concept of money. Meanwhile, I'm turning into a pill popper. What a weird life.