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led astray

January 2013

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in which incompetance abounds

 Rewind a couple days.  Doctor's office.  An hour wait in an un-air-conditioned room to see this man.  He has not heard from Mass Medline.  Has not heard of them.  So much for that brilliant idea.  3 people in the waiting room after me.  And he wants to have (our first) serious conversation about whether the meds are working.  I can't bring myself to make these people wait any more.  And he decides that since I'm paying out of pocket currently, he won't increase my meds even though he feels I need higher doses of 2 of them because he thinks I won't get them because they would be more expensive.  I tried to explain that I, and people who love me, will not allow money to get between me and my fucking mental health.  But, no.  I got scripts for the usual.  I go to CVS, pick up what I can afford.  Fast-forwar to this morning.  I'm setting my pills in the daily  case, when I notice one pill is a different color than usual.  The pharmacy is good about telling me when something changes, so I look.  It's the wrong fucking dose!  It's half what I'm taking!  Of one he wanted to increase.  He was reading the wrong part of my fucking chart!  Luckily I have a refill left of the right ammount that will get me through till my next appointment with this ASS!!!

Rewind to yesterday.  Therapy.  I didn't want to go.  I wanted more rest for my workshop class.  And it's bat-shit-crazy hormone time.  And very little sleep.  I decided to confront her about what she said to me last time I saw her (3 weeks ago now).  She told me she didn't believe me when I told her that, yes, I do eat enough and take care of myself that way.  She flat out denied ever saying such a thing.  So now she has called me a liar twice.  Then, after I gave her the breif catch-up of what's been going on lately, she asked me if I am depressed.  WTF?? Are you fucking serious?  I explained that we have gone over this many times.  That I have been depressed for over 20 years, that it's chemical as well as situational, blahblah, the usual.  Then was 10 minutes of me saying, "We've been over this...you say that every time I see you...this is not news...we've been over this...ect."  Her brilliant revelation/advice...?  "You need to get a job."  Then was me, fully in sarcastic rage mode to keep from slapping the bitch, "Hey, yeah!  Why don't I just get off my ass and start trying?!  Oh, wait.  I'm already fucking doing that!"


This is my biggest fear/pet peeve with therapy, feeling like you need to prove you're not well. I mean, wtf?! If someone is depressed, having to feel like they need to live up to someone else's expectations is going to be near impossible. Ugh. I'm sorry this is such a mess for you. xo
thanks. it sucks when the treatment is worse than the disease
WTF bunny duly facepalms on your behalf.

People who are in positions of authority lately have all lost their fucking minds, I swear.