I’m exhausted. Beyond? I’ve taken the day off from everything. I’m trying to take the day off from my brain, too. Not sure how that’s going. Is there a bit of the Typical Absence Status Epilepticus lurking? Before I said no, but now I can’t get away from my head and my stomach. Valium. Gravol. Ibuprophen. *gulp*
I went to see Merlin #2 yesterday. It was a complete and utter disaster. I don’t know what’s happening. With each subsequent appt. our relationship seems to be falling apart. What happened to Dr. PAs “collaborative relationship” with him? Things haven’t reached the point of him being like Dr. Asshole (my ex-GP) who eventually caused me so much anxiety over several years, I had to stop seeing him. But if things continue in that direction?
My primary reason for seeing him was that I was out of my Concerta. However, there was more to discuss. A lot more? I hadn’t seen him in months. He’s known nothing that’s been going on for so long. I was rather on edge. Rather?
Also my secondary reason. I needed his help in filling out a form for the stoopid guvmunt, to get me a bit more money. It’s for a dietary allowance, and one of the categories is Anorexia Nervosa. I spoke to Sweetie GP about it a week ago, and she insisted I get a diagnosis from Merlin #2. Great! I get to ‘fess up about all of this crap to another doctor! Who the hell likes to admit this wonderful behaviour?! I can count on one hand the people that already know all the details! I think?
Then there’s just plan old everything else! Read my damn blog for the last while! Further, since things had already been getting worse between us, that just made me feel more freaked out.
…drip, drip, drip…POUR! I just started bawling in the waiting room. There were two other patients before me. He clearly saw. So did they, but I don’t care who sees me cry in public. Then, time for my appt.
No acknowledgment of my emotional state. He just (either casually or flatly–I couldn’t tell) asked, “So, what’s up?”
I basically shut down the tears but my voice wasn’t all that shipshape. I immediately asked for my script, then I showed him the form. He immediately told me he wouldn’t give me the diagnosis as I didn’t fit the criteria. He simply told me I didn’t have it. I tried to explain that he knew nothing of my history, I tried to give examples of my past, even my present! He just shut me down with a flat out, “No.”
I asked him, then, “Who could give me a diagnosis?”
Answer: “I don’t know.”
After that I wasn’t sure about telling him anything else, so I mentioned the Typical Absence Status Epilepticus and the med changes. That was easy. After that, he said if I wanted to talk about anything else, I’d have to book another appt. I was only scheduled for a med refill. Now, this I understood and was grateful for it. I was completely out of my Concerta and they fit me in the next day. The receptionist is always excellent like that.
As I walked out the door, all he said was, “Take care.”
I said the same, still trying to fight off tears (although were they out of frustration now, too?) At least, I weighed in while he was mumbling all of this garbage to me. I needed to cover that. Back under 100lbs. Maybe 97lbs.
I didn’t even bother to make another appt. I have six months of Concerta so he can go screw himself. If that’s all he’s good for at this point? Simply prescribing me my stims? I may have to ditch him. *shakes head*
The Retail Therapy? I think I’ll make that another post. This is long enough. I can hardly move, and maybe it will keep you coming back for more? That’s such a naughty thing to do. And you know I’m not a Traffic Whore. If you don’t know what I’m doing here and what it’s called (roughly) the category is up there.