338 // A Minor Mistake

Yesterday I was grateful for modern medicine, today I loath the entire American health care industry.

Long story short, I made a minor mistake that resulted in needing my medication replaced, not refilled, but my insurance provider refused. They admitted that the mistake was both understandable and commonplace, but instead of having a simple and compassionate solution ready; I was directed back and forth from department to department and between them and the drug company again and again and again.

The process was stressful and disappointing at every level. I was left feeling incompetent, completely alone, and terrified of what a missed dose might mean.

The worst part of any illness isn’t the illness itself but dealing with pharmacies, drug companies, insurance providers, and all their bureaucratic roadblocks and the problem is infinitely worse that illness and consequently the bureaucratic roadblocks are chronic.

The good news is that within this cruel and capitalist system there are a few good people and between my doctor and the nurse ambassador with the drug company I’ve been reassured I will probably be okay and that I am not, in fact, the world’s number one failure.

So, so much for a day that belonged to me. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening trying to destress and salvage some self-esteem. Ordering a pizza with my favorite toppings, watching old episodes of Veep, and knowing I still have tomorrow to myself helps a lot. Today wasn’t a good one, but it’s already in the past and soon it will join every other bad day I’ve ever had as a distant and dim memory, something to laugh about or repress forever.

I’m doing better than yesterday but I’m still not okay. I’m teaching a class this week and thank God I’m not on my own. I’m toughing it out as much as I can and looking forward to leaving as soon as I can. I wish everyone around me knew how hard I was trying. It feels good to give my all, to know that I can fight through this disease, but it doesn’t feel very good that I have to; you know?

It wouldn’t be so bad but my schedule is relentless right now and I feel bad for not doing my best work, or, I’m afraid I’m not doing my best work. I’m also in desperate need of some time for myself, to do the things that make me feel better. I don’t know if I mean that. I think I’m in desperate need of the desire to do the things that make me feel better. Right now the only desire I feel is for sleep.