Dealing with doctors is one of those things that I really wish wasn’t a “necessary evil.”
The primary-care practitioner I see now is very nice, and his assistant is nice enough, but she consistently mixes up my med refills, calling in meds sans codeine when that’s the one I need and vice versa. Sometimes they’re called in to a completely wrong pharmacy; it regularly takes three faxes from the correct pharmacy just to get the initial (and incorrect) med called in, and waaaay too early for a refill at that. I’m shocked the pharmacy is even filling the butalbital like that! It can’t look good to my insurance company.
I got a call on Monday that my doctor was out of town so they turned to another MD in the practice about my refill, and he doesn’t want to refill my codeine so I’ll have to choose. I’m sorry, no. You’re not my doctor and the meds are for two different things. But because of that refusal, I have to haul my cookies 30-plus minutes to the Beaches and pay $30 for a follow-up (or FU, as it’s abbreviated) in order for my doctor to refill the meds I’ve taken for years? I call bullshit. And I guarantee I’ll get the old “ask your gyno for meds,” which gynos apparently just hate to do and they refer me back to my primary. Super fun time.
That, friends, is when a follow-up turns into a real eff-you.
It’s also inspired me to add some new categories/tags: “meds” and “total bullshit,” both of which surprisingly have not made their appearance on this blog before. Rectified!