I spent this morning doing the last part of a 1.5 week chasing down of one of my immuno-suppressant meds. An immuno-suppressant is something that I can not skip since my white blood cells will then start kicking my heart and wonder what this foreign object is doing in there. It can end very badly.
For 2018 I changed health insurance so everything is new. Like I talked about 2 weeks ago, everything has to be linked up to my old records, new departments and doctors has to be hooked up. Let me just state that my new health service place is great in almost every way this far. I took my, literally, last dose of that particular med this morning and had no more even for my evening dose. I mean literally in the correct sense of the word, not in the “pretty much” way it’s being used these days. I ordered the refill two weeks ago and by this morning it had still not materialized. Last week I checked in, waited at the pharmacy in vain for two hours, called a couple of times etc. So, this morning I got upset. I called and wrote every person involved and luckily, four hours later it was solved. It ate up all my morning work-hours.
I totally understand that things are not perfect, things happen and everyone’s working hard to get things right. Again, I am also incredibly grateful that I even have access to the care I have. However, some health care personnel act as if you’re an ungrateful jerk if you get angry or take them to task over something. As if any attempt of theirs to make things happen should be received with utmost gratitude. I don’t know if there’s some kind of Jesus-like attitude about their work, in that they are doing “the good of the world”. I agree that they are doing a great deed as health care providers, but, it’s a paid career that they chose. If nobody paid them they would most likely not set foot at their hospital or clinic. Just like most other people in other professions. It’s as if I order a ham sandwich at the deli and they hand me tuna casserole. I would complain and they would tell me I should be grateful that I get food. Either way, feel free to rip on me in the comments if you like. I’m happy to hear other angles.
This week talks about my first real dark day after my first surgery. I had managed, with great support from family, friends and staff, to keep a positive attitude during the very serious situation I was in. But, when you’re sleeping your mind goes in whatever way it wants and in my dream I was put back to the time before all my heart issues started. It was really tough to wake up to reality in the morning. I probably had other real downer days after that, but in hindsight, this one stands out.
Thank you so much for stopping by and reading. Hope you all are doing great.
Stefan the curmudgeon
PS. To add to my surly’ness, I just had to ask a lady to not take her dog for a walk in our yard! What???