three days serviced by Urgent Care

I was in Urgent Care on each Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday of this week, with threats that I might have to go to the hospital to have surgery on my hand.

I volunteer with numerous different organizations here in the Twin Cities, many of them relating to animals.  one such organization, that I shan’t name in this context, needed some help fostering two feral kittens a while back.  with Brian’s approval, I volunteered.  shortly after, my contact (henceforth “Contact”) for the fostering said it wouldn’t be necessary, as she found someone else.

a few weeks pass, and Contact requested again that I foster the kittens.  I agree.  when next she contacts me, she informs me she needs me to foster an adult feral from Mexico (henceforth “The Cat” or “Motherfucking Bastard”).  I hesitate.  I’ve assisted in and/or have fostered all ages of cats before.  but my guy was telling me this was a bad idea for both The Cat and me.  however, I didn’t want to back out of a volunteering offer I made, so I reluctantly agreed.

I’m back at work, but I’ve a brace on my right hand.  the pain is so great that I can’t even drive my stick-shift car or hold a glass of water.  I could not wear pants due to my inability to zip or button them.

Contact arrived with her “kitty condo” — something similar to this –, explaining that she was hoping we’d keep The Cat in it and inside the room in which we spent the most time.  that would be the Office.  again, I had reluctance.  my tactic was always keep the feline in the bathroom — she had space to hide, but would still be exposed to use frequently.  but it was her cat I was fostering, so I followed her rules.

at this point, The Cat was responding well enough to me.  she let me pet her and almost never hissed at me.  by the third day, however, she was hissing more than she let me pet her.  she also had begun yowling at night and pacing in her cage.  it was obvious she was growing miserable in that small, enclosed space wherein she had no control over her visibility.

the trick is to give them somewhere they can hide slightly if they like, and let them come out at their own time.  this tactic has never failed me.

by the end of the week, I would get near the cage and she would hiss.  her yowling was incessant.  and even Zero was getting upset with the situation.

I called Contact and explained that this wasn’t working.  after brief discussion, Contact and I decided I would still keep her in the office (per her request), but that she’d be out of the cage (my request).

and that’s when all hell broke loose.

the pain in my hand is so great I am occasionally taking Vicodin.  me, with my high-ass pain tolerance.

Brian and I walk the Office trying to remove as many too-small hidey holes as we could.  I thought we had done a sufficient job….

Saturday afternoon, while transitioning The Cat from the cage into the room, she spazzed and escaped into the living room.  it was my fault for not ensuring the Office door was closed; that fact, I will own.  in an attempt to collect and relocate her, she scratch Brian on the nose and bit deeply into my right hand.  nevertheless, I got her into the office with no actual physical pain on her part (as far as I could tell).

and then she was MIA for two whole days.  she did not come out to eat, drink, or use the litter.  I was terrified she got herself into a hidey hole we couldn’t find, and was going to starve herself to death.  I was terrified that I had now scarred her forever, and she’s in a worse sociable condition now than when we first got her.  I was terrified of so many things.

at one point, an IV drip of antibiotics was rushed into my body, as mere oral dosages were too inadequate for the severity of the infection.

meanwhile, my hand was swelling up and turning red.  Brian urged me to the doctor; I denied — both repeatedly.  then one of the bite marks started to puss, and I had lost most mobility in my thumb.  I reluctantly agreed to go Sunday evening.

the doctors expressed great concern that, even thought The Cat was fully vaccinated, I may have an infection that was starting to go after a tendon or the bone.  while I was sitting on an IV drip of antibiotics, I was also prescribed oral antibiotics and Vicodin for pain.  I mistakenly expressed no need for the pain medication; let’s just say I have since been very glad multiples times that we got it filled anyway.  I was instructed to come back ASAP the next day.

I messaged and emailed the attorneys at work a brief tale of my misadventure, requesting to remotely do payroll from home so that I can then promptly go back to Urgent Care to get my hand reviewed.  my supervisors are very wonderful, understanding persons.  they approved my request with no hesitation, informing me to let them know if they could help in any way.

back at Urgent Care Monday afternoon, my hand showed signs of neither worsening nor improving.  after some discussion and inspection, the doctor braces up my arm.  I’m instructed to once again return to Urgent Care the following day.  this time, if no improvement was evident, hospitalization would be required — surgery to either mend the wound or amputate part of the hand.

when got home that day, Monday night, we see evidence that Motherfucking Bastard emerged and ate her food.  we still have no idea where she is hiding.  but at the moment, it’s not our top concern.  the potential necessary removal of my right hand was.

I work a full day on Tuesday, very slowly and almost ineffectively.  after work, Brian takes me once again to Urgent Care.  three times in three days.  this time, however, there was evident visual improvement of both the infectious redness and of the swelling.  I was released on the condition of continuing taking my antibiotics (and probiotics) as instructed and that if it at any point gets worse, I was to just give up and go to ER.

once again, The Cat had emerged ate, and even new feces was in the litter box.

so where are we at now?  it’s Thursday morning.  how is The Cat doing?  how is James’s hand?  how is Brian’s face?  what all does Contact know of situation?  for how long are those fools going to keep The Cat?

Brian’s hand and face were fine.  he’s on the same antibiotic plan as me, minus the initial drip.  by day two, everything was cool for him.

my hand is healing, albeit slowly.  I still can’t really use it for anything.  I can type on a full-sized keyboard for the most part, though my usual usage of countless keyboard shortcuts are limited and typos are abound.  however, I cannot use my right hand, thumb, or index finger for: texting on my phone, anything that requires fine motor skills, anything that requires more than minor grip or holding, anything that requires muscle usage in the aforementioned areas.  as I’ve already stated, I couldn’t even wear pants to work for several days because I could not operate the zipper or buttons.  I’m wearing clip pants today, and I’m learning that was a bad idea.

Motherfucking Bastard is somewhere still in the room.  I don’t know where.  the current plan is keeping her for the next two weeks.  at that point, I will return her to Contact, explaining that Zero is not pleased and my family are coming with their dog the following week.  however, if she continues to not emerge at all while we are in the room, eating and shitting only while we are at work or asleep, I may send her back sooner.  it’s doing no one any good if she is that terrified.

and currently, Contact knows nothing after the phone call wherein we came to a compromise of letting The Cat loose in the Office.  I wanted to wait to see how things panned out first.

I tried to keep identity of the involved people, animals, and organizations.  but I may never foster via that group again; I will, however, still help and volunteer because of what their primary goals are.  there’s a difference between fostering feral cats, and housing a yowling monster.

that’s not to say Contact isn’t kind.  she purchased us a new super-large litter box with Zero, provided a ton of dry and food wet and of cat litter for The Cat, and even gave me a Starbucks giftcard as thanks.  but I think their system of fostering just doesn’t sync with me.

a non-sarcastic “THANKS!” to Medica :D

y’all.  I’m stoked.  like, seriously.  I cannot thank the reps at Medica enough for actually helping me out with my insurance disaster.

so if you recall, last Tuesday, I made a post about the battle I was having in getting my insurance going.  well, a rep from Medica saw my post, and call me the following Friday.  he left a voicemail saying how unfortunate my situation was and how he could help out.

of course, I was hesitant — 1] I never have this good of luck, and/or 2] this is going to be a scam.  Spoiler alert: it wasn’t a scam!  I researched the number he left, the number he called from, and the story he told about finding my blog and why he was reaching out.

I learned the Medica is trying to really get on the ball about providing good customer service — so much so, they are reaching out to persons in social media rather than waiting for the customer to reach out to them.  and my situation is a happy result of that.

long story shirt, my rep Jerid (who has a cool spelling of his name, btw), explained a little of what happened and a lot of what the solution would be.  and I would like to point out that he never tried to blame MNSure.  I personally have no idea who was at fault (may have even been me at some point, for all I’ve been able to make sense of the situation), I just wanted the problem solved.  and Medica did that.

he coordinated with MNSure, found my application, and manually passed it through some hoops.  when we re-discussed my getting prescriptions, he even said he would email a copy of my insurance card so I can relay the information to my pharmacies.

when I woke up yesterday morning, MY INSURANCE CARD INFORMATION WAS IN MY EMAIL.  omg, y’all, I was ecstatic!!  I immediately called the pharm and got them to get my ‘scripts ready.  I will be properly medicated soon!! 😀

so a very honest thanks to Jerid and his team from Medica and to whatever officials have really started pushing the offering of good, quality customer service.  I  can’t thank y’all enough for ending what was turning into a nightmare!

 

P.S.
omg y’all, I get to pick up my ‘scripts tomorrow!  thank jeebus, because I was having to cut and/or space them out just to keep some in my system, since I had no idea when I could refill them.

I guess I just won’t ever have insurance…?

I started my current job in late September.  early October, I sent in paperwork to the state letting them know that I can now afford to get off the assistance insurance plan I was on.  I never heard anything, and kept getting services and meds for practically free.

December comes along, and I send in another completed form.  again, radio silence from them.

April 10th, I receive a letter stating that my coverage ended on March 30th.  firstly, thanks for the heads up.  secondly, finally.  (I can afford to pay for my own insurance, so I want to.  I want the funds to go to the people who need it, not to people who are scamming the system; and I didn’t want to be that person.)

so I get onto MNsure.org, which is the method that most Minnesotans use to find their insurance plan, and I submit my application.  a few days later, I log on, but it looks like nothing was fully processed.  so I was on the phone between MNsure.org (via whom I purchased the insurance) and Medica (the actual insurance company) countless times, being on hold and/or transferred for most of a phone call.  I’m talking 40-minute holds just to talk to the first person, much less all the bouncing back and forth that follows.  Medica: “tell MNsure this.”; MNsure: “well, tell Medica that.”  it was like being between two people standing face-to-face who are doing that “I’m not talking to Sally” thing.  wtf.

additionally so, these places are only open on typical 8-5 schedules.  I have  a 30-minute lunch, and I’m expected to magically make a 40-minute hold time fit into 30-minutes?  again, I ask: WHAT. THE. FUCK.

eventually I somehow speak with humans just last week who said they were pushing my application through.  YAY!  she adds that I need to make sure I’m not late on the first payment — whose invoice should arrive in 60 days.  wut?  why so long??  you know what, whatever.  I just need insurance right now.  I’ll deal with down the road then.  we know we have the money for it, so we’re good.  and if this lady is pushing through my application, that means soon I can get the prescriptions that have been waiting for me at my pharmacy.

I go online over the weekend to see about getting a temporary insurance card, or at least some ID and Rx numbers.  but nothing.  it’s still blank.

so yesterday I call around and learn that my application has not yet been pushed through. BAH!

so today, I cheated.  while I started the call at the beginning of my lunch.  I stayed on the call after lunch was over; I ensured I was doing work-stuff at the time, of course!  I wasn’t cheating that bad.  and they mentioned I could call 10-minutes early from my lunch to get through some of the hold time.  so whatever.  I need to get this handled.

after being on the phone with these organizations for OVER AN HOUR AND THIRTY MINUTES TODAY ALONE, I gave up.  I’ll try again tomorrow.

THIS. IS. PREPOSTEROUS.

at the one-hour mark, I was livid.

I think I’m just going to have to take a day or a half-day off and go to some office and handle this shit IRL.  because 1] I don’t want to get hit with a fine for not having insurance; 2] I need insurance for my meds and my docs.

speaking of which, I had to cancel my psych appointment for tomorrow because I HAVE NO INSURANCE.

I hate everything related to US health care right now.  like, even more than usual.

medication, relationships, and disassociations

oops.  so I’ve managed to not take my morning medications almost every day this week (my most important meds are my morning ones, of course).  also, I’ve forgotten my evening meds numerous times in the last two weeks.  however, I’ve been fairly good about my mid-day meds — naturally, because those are the least important of the three.  ~sighs~

I’ve been totally exhausted lately.  like, before my screwing up the taking of my meds.  that’s actually what led to my forgetting to take them.  over the weekend, I just got really, really tired.  then Monday morning, I sleep in until I absolutely have to wake up for work, and I forget to dope myself up while I rush getting ready.  and it just happens like that every morning for the rest of the week.  today included.

Brian called me while I was on my way to work because he noticed I forgot my meds.  I’d be late if I had turned around though.  and I just also didn’t give a fuck about going back to take them.  “it’s not like they’re doing much good anyway”, half-sleepy me told myself as I steered with one knee, guzzled an energy drink with one hand, and shoved eggs into my mouth with the other hand.  (the second knee was attached to the foot reserved for the gas and brake pedals.  I have to get creative whenever I need each a hand and a foot/knee/leg for the shifting and powering the clutch.)  so I just thanked him, and kept going away from home.

I’ve been frustrated with him for a day or so now.  he did tiny thing A that is a big thing to me, and I noticed I had an emotional response about it.  I did my best not to have an emotional reaction, and I only kinda succeeded.  but then I beat myself up for having emotions at all.  I typically get very angry at myself when and because I’m angry at him.  and of course, during all this, I don’t tell him shit, because I don’t want him to start feeling bad about having peeved me off.  but he inquired this morning, and I was just like, “let’s talk about this when I’m not running late for work, okay?”

second thing I really wanted to discuss here (venting about Brian kinda snuck in here, lol) is my disassociation qualities returning.  I’m getting “that feeling” again wherein I’m not Me.  I’m multiple peoples living in a single body, so take turns sharing the physical cage.  I “see” myself doing and saying things.  I’m over-analyzing my actions in a very particular way — not so much “objective” as it is disjointed and disconnected.

maybe it’s the lack of medication in my system.  maybe it’s the two energy drinks a day I take just to stay awake.  maybe it’s whatever started making me so tired over the weekend.

maybe it’s finally time for a Cycle change, and I’m going to go into a mania soon.  that would be a nice change of pace.  I haven’t had a proper (hypo-)mania in a while.  though I doubt it, given all the additional sleep I’ve been needing.

one thing I’m going to discuss at therapy is how I’m so Tired.  like, when she or my psychiatrist ask me about how this is going or what I feel about that, I just wanna look at them and say, “I don’t know. I’m too Tired to think about an analyze it.”  an me being too tired to analyze something — not a good sign.

I suppose that’s all for now.  I’m just really off kilter.  and because I don’t know the cause, I can’t even pretend to come up with a solution.

medicinal cocktails

saw my psychiatrist again a few nights ago.  I was fairly open about how things are starting to get really bad again.  I mean, they’re not there yet.  but I’m going to bed at 7:30pm just to avoid being alive/awake, I Cut again early last week (only just told Brian about it last night), et cetera.  Brian and I haven’t been very close recently, so I don’t think he’s really noticed.  or if he has, he hasn’t said much.  there’s a big Taboo issue that we should talk about at some point; I inadvertently allowed that to create some distance between us.  and then with that distance, I’m reclusing [how is that not a word?  “to beor to have the qualities of a recluse”] more; and with my reclusion [I realize I may be taking that one a bit too far], I push him away more; et cetera, et cetera.

923876723_orig

anyway.  I saw the psych and was generally honest about how it’s getting bad again.  I mentioned how ceasing to take any of my medication entirely — like, cold-turkey stopping — had recently crossed my mind as a genuine course of action.  that alone is a sign that things are shitty and cannot continue as they are.  but during that consideration I recalled the last few times I “got off my meds” and all the chaos that it evoked.  so I pushed that aside as a “last option right before suicide” step.

I also discussed with her about how I’m tired all the time.  I’m going to bed at 8pm, waking up at 6:45 or 7am, and I’m still so exhausted every day.  I’m sleeping fine enough; I’m just not resting.  honestly, the only reason I’m getting this post pumped out is because I had a manic burst at work and had to focus the energy into something that wouldn’t matter much if I fucked up (versus incorrectly writing checks at work or something).  with this post started, I’ll have to finish it; do it due diligence, ya know?; even if, albeit, several days later.

my psychiatrist’s solution, bless her heart, is to add more medication.  I mean, what else can she do?  I’m trying to exercise, I see a therapist bi-weekly, I’m eating fairly well balanced, I’m still attempting to make plans with friends (keeping them is the difficult part), I’ve been keeping away-ish from the alcohol (much better than usual!), et cetera.  I even have one of those little sun lights/light therapy lamps.  her theory is that if I’m doing all of that, it must be chemical; so more meds will fix that.  I don’t necessarily agree that additional medications will help.  but we’re on a down slope as is; so even even-keel would be great.

meds

so, my new cocktail is as follows:

Prescriptions

  • Albuterol Sulfate (Proair HFA):  90 mcg; as needed
  • Alprazolam (Xanax):  0.5 mg; as needed
  • Aripiprazole (Abilify):  10 – 20 mg; once mornings
  • Bupropion HCL Er (Welbutrin):  150 mg; once mornings
  • Divalproex Sodium ER (Depakote):  250 mg; once mornings, three nights
  • Gabapentin (?):  300 mg; once mornings, once nights
  • Norgestimate/Ethinyl Estradiol (MonoNessa):  0.250 mg/0.035 mg; once mornings
  • Nortriptyline HCL (Aventyl/Pamelor):  10 mg; once mornings, once afternoons
  • Ropinirole (Requip):  0.5 mg; once nights

Vitamins & Supplements

  • Antihistamine:  25 mg; once mornings
  • B-12:  1000 mcg; once mornings
  • C:  1000 mg; once mornings
  • Cranberry:  4200; once nights
  • D3:  2000 IU; twice mornings
  • Iron:  65 mg; once mornings  (additional 65 mg at night when menstruating)
  • Melatonin:  6 mg; as needed
  • Pehenazopyridine Hydrochloride (via Azo/i-Health):  97.5 mg; as needed

 

think I’m on enough pills….?

a brief check-in

wow. so many things have changed very recently.

firstly, I’m typing this during my lunch break at my new job.  like, the one I plan on keeping long-term.  I’m the Office Manager for a small law firm that represents mainly low-income and minority clients.  the job itself is wonderful, and the colleagues are cool; I, however, am of course insufficient.  I was honest with them at the beginning about having only unofficial and minor experience in accounting, by which I mean mere bookkeeping. but my charisma sold me, I think.  and now this poor company has me handling their finances, helping them with certain things about their cases, making sure everyone gets their paychecks, and generally being the backbone that keeps this place running — as such they are royally fucked.  Baby Bird can’t even feed herself some days; and now she’s going to keep a law firm functioning?  O_O

my parents drove up Monday and are currently flying back home.  with them came my car.  I just have to decipher a letter from the Minnesota DMV about if the fees are being waived or not.  if so, then I just go to a DMV to get my license.  if not, then I got to a DMV, pay them $800, then get my license.  either way, this is all coming to a close and I’ll be driving again soon.

the drinking issues are going well.  I may have a glass of wine here or there, or a few beers at Murry’s.  but otherwise, that’s it.  of course, that means I’ve started cutting again, lol.  I’ve only done it twice.  but that’s still two times more than I had since October 2015.

therapy is good too.  I go every Saturday morning at 8:30, which will leave me the rest of the day in case of fun events (such as the Minnesota State Fair that Brian and I attended a few weekends back).  and best of all — insurance is still covering it!!  😀

I’m going to see about making a “regular” work schedule.  from there, I can plan my workouts and a writing schedule.  I hope that means I’ll update more.  I also hope it means I’ll start reading my friends’ and mentors’ blogs again.  I have no clue what’s going on in the lives of anyone who is my cat, my boyfriend, or my parents.  everyone else may as well live on a different planet for all I know about their happenings.

Voluntary Manslaughter

para-suicide is … interesting, to say the least.

it’s a case of wanting to die, but wanting to not be the one who does it.

and there really should be a middle ground between suicidal and para-suicidal. like maybe semi-suicidal…? for example, I have been semi-suicidal twice now. I wasn’t really trying to kill myself; but if I ended up dead, all the better.

the first time was back in 2004 when I overdosed on Tylenol. I wasn’t actively trying to die. I had a migraine from a severe concussion I had a few hours proir. I have a thick blood barrier in my brain — meaning any substance I take, good or bad, doesn’t get into my brain as easily as it would for most meaning; which means I have to take more and/or stronger doses of a given substance.

I.E. pain medication. I was easily taking eight to ten Tylenols a day just for my normal headaches and migraines. so in order to relieve the massive pain from my aforementioned concussion, I was having to eat those pills like candy.

meanwhile, due to an unrelated issue influenced by my severe depressive state, I cut my arms up terribly. my boyfriend at the time was over playing games with my brother. at one point, he came in to check on me. I was dizzy from the meds and rather bloody. he reached out to a few of my friends who also self-injured and self-medicated; they reccommend a hospital trip.

long story short, I had taken over 25 extra-strength Tylenol is a span of six or so hours. my stomach had to be pumped; had I gone to sleep, the docs told me, I wouldn’t have woken up.

in that situation, had I not woken up, I would been fine with that. my goal was not actually to kill myself; rather, my goals were to ease my unbearable migraine, and to punish myself for the cause of my depression and self-loathing. I didn’t cut too deep, firstly. and secondly, after I did my research anout the maximum recommended amount of Tylenol one should take, I began more accutely recording how much I took and when; that way, if I did end up at a doctor, I could accurately report to them my consumption. I wasn’t trying to ensure my death would occur; rather, I was actively not taking steps to ensure it didn’t occur.

the second time was this past October. my court date for that damned DUI was right around the corner. and rather than deal with the issue by reaching out to my friends, I tore my skin apart. I tok a blade and dragged in down my arm along the path of the vein. my thoughts were such: if I didn’t, I needed to stop the bleeding and clean up my mess; if I did die, then I less things to worry about. by the end of it all, I was in such hysterics that Brian had to basically coddle me and send me to bed. I mean, heeven had to help me rinse off the blood and such. real pathetic, I know.

so where are we now? well, the last few weeks, I couldn’t have killed myself even if I wanted to — I didn’t have the energy. I didn’t even have the energy or desire to drink myself into a stupor … because I was already there naturally.

but now we have a psychiatrist appointment scheduled, I have my work schedule understood and predictable, I have my weekly chiropractic appointments back in line, and I have even met with a therapist twice in one month. moreover, Zero has his first vet appointment up here this weekend, work is telling me I’m doing an amazing job and have potential tobmove over to full-time, I have a GP and an OB appointment set for next month, and we’re finally getting enough money that I may be able to do a Amazon Blitz soon (which basically entails my buying myself a ton of discounted books, maybe a self-love fift or two (like epsom salt), and trying to get a gift for someone I Love (Daminelle, Jenna, and Kiera are over-due for presents). so I guess things are getting better. or at least, we’re on the road to getting better.

I know everyone always throws out that bullshit about “the light at the end of the tunnel”, and I know many of our kind know the comeback “yeah, and it’s a fucking train”; but I’m the point where I want to explain how long this goddamned tunnel is, and how I’m ready to just lay on the tracks and stop walking.

《~ posted via mobile device ~》