Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Not so well....

Things fall apart. Per usual, something went awry when I ran out of one my medication. I ran out of Navane a couple weeks ago. Every time I called the pharmacy, they said the doctor's office didn't refill it. Every time I called the mental health center, the medical assistant told me it was already refilled. This went on for about ten days. I got the supervisor of the medical assistant to finally take care of it. So now I'm back on Navane as of two days ago.

Yesterday, I didn't have any Latuda to take. I ran out of that the day before yesterday. My lovely Medicare drug company told me that they wouldn't cover it, because I was switched without choosing to be switched, from one insurance company to another at the beginning of the year. I called the medical assistant about this, again, repeatedly, and he got an attitude as if I was just being an annoyance.

Today I was late for work. I was supposed to come in half an hour early to make up for having to leave early to take an exam at school, but I ended up getting there 15 minutes late, which means, I was basically 45 minutes late.

I just hoped my boss wouldn't notice. But I think she did.

I went to take my Southern Politics exam. I had begged the professor for extra time to study for it, a week and a half ago. He gave me this time, and when I explained the fact that I had Schizoaffective Disorder and I couldn't read any of the six books for the class right now, he said something like, "I hope you're ready for the next exam in time". Today I took the exam. He said, "If you get a D or an F on your midterm grade, you might as well say sayanarra to this course.."

In other words, no it doesn't matter that I explained I am PSYCHOTIC or that I am LIVING WITH SCHIZOPHRENIA, because that's no excuse for not being able to do well on a test. Nevermind that MY GODDAMN BRAIN DOESN'T WORK, and I can't read a page of anything. Nevermind that there are SIX ASSIGNED BOOKS FOR THIS CLASS. Just buck up. Drop the course and leave like a failure or force your brain to work, somehow, is apparently he solution. How I do that, I would love to know. I refuse to drop the course. I did not fight this hard for the past nearly 20 fucking years to have to drop courses in my senior year when I'm finally close to graduating. No way. I did not fight this hard to go this far, to give up and have to repay my financial aid money and be dead broke and useless and hopeless. I'm not going to do that to myself. So no thanks, prof. I refuse. I don't care if I fail this class, I'm not dropping out.

After the test, I went to Spanish class, where I found myself sitting, frozen, unable to respond verbally when the professor ordered us to repeat verbs in espanol. When she went around the class asking people to respond in Spanish to questions, I fumbled and couldn't answer. The girl next to me felt sorry for me and tried to tell me the answer. Other people laughed at me. A few minutes later I thought it was my turn again, and I said, "Can I just pass this time please?" But it wasn't my turn. I got up and walked out, went to call the mental health center and make sure my Latuda was getting refilled. I asked the medical assistant supervisor if there were any openings to see my doctor before the end of March, when my next appointment was for. "Why?"" she asked. "Is something wrong?" I said, "I'm psychotic." She couldn't hear me. Bad cell phone reception in the building. Students were coming in and out of classrooms one by one to use the restroom. Some professor was sitting with the door to his office open. Here I was yelling, "I have PSYCHOSIS RIGHT NOW." Finally she seemed to hear what I said, "Did you say you're psychotic?"

"You mean hearing voices and seeing things?"

"Yes." (OKay that is not really accurate but she's not a doctor and I don't have time to explain the negative symptoms of psychosis to her right now.)

"How about coming in next Thursday?"
Funny, because last time I asked for an appointment sooner they said there was nothing until the end of March, but now there's something open on March 6th. I said I would come in then.

I went back to Spanish class. The classroom was empty except for the professor, who was erasing the board. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Are you alright?"

I didn't even have to explain that something was wrong as she had already gathered that. "I have Schizophrenia and I'm having some problems right now."

"Lo siento"she said. (I'm sorry in Spanish).

She asked me if I take medication. Yes, I said, and I am out of one of them which is why I walked out of your class to call my doctor. "Go to the doctor right now," she said.

"Ok", I said.

I went and called my case manager. I was shaking so I assumed that I should eat something and perhaps I would feel better because supposedly I'm hypoglycemic. I called the case manager \from the café while I was eating my tuna fish sandwich.

I said there was something wrong, and I couldn't explain it just then because I was at school, but I needed to talk to someone. She said I could come into her office and see her.

I went to her office. I drove there kind of like a robot, because I was just there a few days ago to renew my lease, so I remembered how to get there and didn't get lost. I told her what was going on. We called the pharmacy. They said they were refilling my Latuda. I thought about going to the hospital, and told her I'd been thinking about it. She asked me if I would be alright to go home by myself. I explained I wasn't suicidal or anything.

She said (again) I should get a dry erase board and put it on my refrigerator to remind myself when it's time to renew my prescriptions. I said (again), I kept forgetting to do this, but I would if I remembered.

I left, and went to the pharmacy.They said they didn't have any Latuda. "Can I get it from somewhere else?" The clerk looked at me like I was (ahem) nuts. "What?" "I said can I get it from another Walgreens?"

She said, impatiently, as if I was some drug addict, "Is this something you really have to have?"

"Yes," I said, "It is." Part of me wanted to say, "Yes, I have Schizophrenia, and I'm currently psychotic. That is an antipsychotic drug that I need, so if you don't want the police or an ambulance to come here then yes I need it right now." But I didn't say that.

They gave me enough for a couple days and sent me on my not-so-merry way.

So now I'm home. I took the Latuda, but I have to look for something to eat because it doesn't work if you take it without food.

I have two assignments due for school next week so I really can't go to the hospital right now. It would be very bad timing, and I haven't been in a hospital in five years, so I don't think it's necessary either. I just need the meds to kick in.

I think going off Risperdal Consta was a mistake.

1 comment:

  1. Yes." (OKay that is not really accurate but she's not a doctor and I don't have time to explain the negative symptoms of psychosis to her right now.)

    I understand the above statement so well. I feel like, even while I have to deal with everything happening(although I am free of those symptoms right now), I also have to EXPLAIN TO THE SATISFACTION of the person I am dealing with, my illness, exactly.

    I feel for you, truly I do, but I don't know how to help. ~Mary


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