Sorry I'm a day late in writing the follow up to my initial doctor's visit, but I was a little too bummed yesterday to talk aboot it.
So, when we left off, Dr Hopman, the doctor at the walk-in clinic, was trying to set me up with a general practitioner who had a methadone license. He was hopeful that I would be taken on as a new patient due to the uniqueness of my condition combined with this doctor's fondness for strange and rare diagnoses.
It seems that hope was misplaced.
There was no room for me at the inn. I was told, however, that at least I would be getting a call from the clinical dermatologist and hematologist to set up appointments, so thankfully I will have 2 very important specialists. Whether they are qualified to handle the rarity of my conditions is yet to be seen - and I mean that not as a slam on their skills, but simply based on how long it took me to get diagnosed properly and settle upon effective treatments, and this is a small town in the middle of nowhere (side note: while I have been calling my new home 'Kelowna', I find that most locals refer to the area as 'The Okanagan' - a reference to the entire area surrounding the lake - 'how are you settling in to life here in The Okanagan?').
I was given the name of an "outreach center" downtown to stop by to see if they could arrange methadone prescriptions for me. When I arrived, I knew immediately that this was going to be a mistake. There were 2 homeless men outside arguing over a paper-bag-wrapped bottle. When I stepped inside I found myself behind a 40lb woman asking what address she should put down if she was living in a tent. Just standing there I felt the insatiable desire to take a Silkwood shower. I don't mean that as a slam or prejudicial statement against homeless people, but given my lack of an immune system, standing in a lobby that caters to TB carriers and people who have no access to proper hygiene (through no fault of their own), made me very nervous. Of course, I was quickly informed that they do not dispense methadone and it was suggested that I go back to the walk-in clinic to see what else they could recommend, which I had already decided I was going to do anyway.
After navigating the glacial ramblings of Albertan sightseeing "drivers", I made it back to the clinic. Walking in, the receptionist gave me a most pained and sympathetic look. I told her about my trip to the outreach center and asked if she had a list of the doctors in The Okanagan that had methadone licenses. She said she didn't, but that I was welcome to try and call the doctor they had tried to get me into (Dr Davidson) and plead my case directly, or they might be able to provide a list at their office of doctors who could prescribe methadone. She was very kind and I could tell she was truly sorry that they couldn't help.
I called Dr. Davidson's office when I got home, but he had left for the day. I was told by the receptionist there (not as nice as the clinic receptionist) that they really weren't taking any new patients, but that she would give the doctor the message indicating the very unique and desperate situation I was in. I told her I was only asking for one quick visit to get a refill scrip and that it would give me time to find a doctor who could take me on full-time. And so I am waiting to hear back from his office. I didn't ask for the list of other methadone doctors yet b/c I didn't want them to dismiss me and just let me go try someone else. I want them to try and get me in before I resort to asking for more info.
In the meantime, I am thinking my other option is to contact the hospital and see if they would consider filling the scrip if I go to the ER there, present my ton of paperwork, records, and doctor letters, and explain my problem finding a doctor who will write me a scrip. Otherwise, I will be back there anyway as I go through detox.
I have been trying to research what to expect if I try to ween myself off. Most people, though, are on super-high doses, whereas I am on a much smaller amount (5mg 2x day), leaving me without a lot of apropo information. I have tried to take my dose down before, going to a half pill at night instead of a full one, and felt like I had the plague while being set on fire while having food poisoning while recovering from being run over 10 times by a Mack truck. But it might be something I will HAVE to do. I'm thinking this next week, while Lisa is away on business, might be the time to try. It would be better to try and do it gradually than to be put in a forced situation of cold turkey. The whole notion has me beside myself. I'm mad that I was ever put on this drug in the first place. I realize that I had built up such an tolerance for just aboot every other painkiller that I wasn't left with many options, but my current predicament has me pretty steamed. And it's not like I can call my old doc and have him put in a refill for me - I have to present the scrip in person to a pharmacist to have it filled, and I can't take an American scrip to a Canadian pharmacy. Though it might be worth calling my old doc and asking him to plead my case to this Dr Davidson...
My biggest concern is Lisa. She will no doubt be blaming herself for "taking me away from all my doctors and regular regimens and bringing me to the middle of nowhere to a place where I can't get a doctor to take care of me." But I knew that finding doctors who could handle my conditions was going to be a challenge. I was also hoping that the notion of free healthcare for someone who racks up thousands of dollars worth of medical expenses (after insurance pays out) would be worth it. I refuse to be a prisoner to my health, but sometimes the fight is just brutal. This is Lisa's time. She has worked so hard to get where she is, to be able to make our dream of living in a foreign country come true, to get us a big, beautiful hoose, in a gorgeous part of the country. I will not let my health stop that or ruin that.
Today, I am seeing the ugly side of socialized health care. But then, every health care system has an ugly side. At least this ugly side is still free, the view out my back window is just as breathtaking, and I still have time to get things sorted oot.
In the meantime, feel free to cheer me up if you want - I could use a good laugh.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment