The pharmacy isn't always right...

...as Stacy can attest to.

Some of you may be sick of me bitching about my back injury; if so, please skip this post. Merci.

See, I've been taking meds for my back injury since...well, since March consistently, but since December 28, 2004 really, which is when I went to the doctor's after a freak accident on December 24, 2004. Every time I see a new doctor I reiterate that I am uncomfortable mentally with needing to take medications to relieve my back and resulting leg pain, but each and every one insists that I continue my regimen. Trouble is, I feel like a drug abuser. Every time I get a script filled I feel like a social pariah? Someone who is bad, a méchante. I know why I have these feelings: family history of alcohol abuse/addiction, personal history of chronic injuries for which I must take medication. I am in a catch-22, and I mentally believe that I don't want to take medication, but my body screams for it. If I don't take it my blood pressure goes up because my pain is so severe that I cannot function. I cannot listen to you speak to me. I cannot read. I cannot write. I cannot think. I cannot eat. I cannot sleep. I cannot. And everything that eminates from me — my actions, my words, my dagger stare — is so counter-productive and dangerous that I worry about losing friendships or my job as a result. So, I continue taking these drugs.

Yesterday I went to call in a refill for one of my medications after realizing I was completely out of them and noticed that there were “no refills remaining” which I thought was strange because, hey, I just went to the doctor last month or so and she gave me 4 prescriptions with many refills on all the other meds. Since it was after my doctor's hours (and if I called I would get the after hours service) I chose to have my pharmacist contact the doctor so that I would not forget to tell someone I was out of meds. Today mid-afternoon it dawned on me to check to see what the status was, so I called my pharmacist who told me “yup, we called that in to your doctor!” so I said, “okay, thanks” then hung up and realized that I still didn't know if my meds would be ready for pick-up after work. And since my back and leg were screaming bloody murder at me, I really needed to press further. So, I called my doctor's office and left all my info in the prescription refill voicemail system and waited for a call back. My doctor's nurse called me back, and after identifying herself paused and said, “there was a second refill on that medication.” I just sat there, thinking “wait, what? uh, okay, huh, I am seriously certain I did not already get this refilled another time”, and the date filled and date written were the same date so I pressed the issue. The nurse said she would contact the pharmacy then call me back. Turns out whoever filled the script misread the handwriting and put "no refills” into the system.

But, you know, the whole time I'm going through this I'm muttering to myself that I must be some sort of drug addict who is misusing her pills and now the jig is up and the doctor is sending me to jail for being a drug addict. I hate this feeling!!!! UGH.

Oh, and not to skeeve out the guys, but I had PID when I was in my teens and was told by one doctor that the reason I might be having flare-ups of my injury at PMS time is because of this. Bdogg said PID never goes away. Does anyone else have information on this? Is there something that can be done permanently or habitually for this? I have a 30 minute appointment with my doctor next week, and I'd like to go into it knowing what I'm talking about. Also, BDogg and one of my co-workers both think the injury could be persisting because of stress, and I would tend to agree. It's a high stress time right now, with PMS, the holidays, and with Roger's return (hence my coordination efforts).

Anyway, thanks for reading my rant. Oh, and if you think there's something wrong with your dosage or your refills, check with your doctor!