Synchronisity & Adventures in the Land of Detached, So-Called Medical Professionals

Due to screw-ups on my part, I ran out of Lyrica before I could take my evening dose on Friday. I figured I would just wait it out until Monday to get a refill - but I didn't realize until Saturday that it was Memorial Day weekend, which means Monday would not bring me a refill. It was a really rough few days.

Without the 150mg dose of Lyrica I take in the evening I tossed and turned throughout the night. My sleep was not restful, and I woke more tired than when I went to sleep. Saturday was filled with joint aches, and pains, followed by a night of sleep worse than before. And Sunday was the same, steadily worse. The nerve pains in the soft under parts of my upper arms were incredible, and my joints swelled and throbbed even more.

By Monday I was in a state of exhausted confusion, fueled by severe pain, lack of sleep and the onset of  terrible withdrawl syptoms from not having my medication for five doses in a row. I called the pharmacy and asked them to give me a few pills to get me through until my next scheduled doctors appointment, conveniently already set for the next day. The pharmacy told me there was no prescription refills left at that pharmacy, so I would have to call the on-call doctor at my clinic to have them refill it.

She was obviously not my normal doctor, she made me repeat myself several times, she got very rude and short with me, but told me she would call the pharmacy. I hung up and waited.  She called back and told me that the amount I gave her, which I thought was 60mg, didn't exist. I looked at my bottle and told her I was confused with my Cymbalta scrip, and that my bottle says 75mg. She says very shortly, "I'm just not going to give it to you because YOU don't even know what you're taking." I tried to convince her for a moment, got overwhelmed and said, "Well gee, thanks a lot!!" and hung up.

I began having a panic attack, because phone conversations like these are why I try to avoid calling the doctor, or anyone else for that matter. My lovely boyfriend called her back, and apparently had the same problem with her. She was short, asked him to tell her my symptoms like six times, which he did, then topped it off by saying, "Lyrica doesn't have withdrawl symptoms."

He calmed her, and convinced her I needed it and she called it in. Then I saw an episode of Nurse Jackie where a heroin addict needed his Methadone and nobody would give it to him even though he was in withdrawal. Oh synchronicity.

Dealing with people like this when you are ill makes you crazier than you already feel.