Over it

Have I mentioned before that I'm so over this whole pain/being sick thing? 'Cause I totally am.

Guess what, friends? Oxycodone prescriptions cannot be faxed. That's right, after the entire freaking week that I spent fighting to get that prescription, being told this morning that it was going to be faxed in, being told this evening that it was faxed in and then not being able to find it at any of my pharmacies… I have now had to settle for hydrocodone (which, if you'll remember, stopped working effectively for me months ago) at a lower dose than the hydrocodone that I was on previously (when it stopped working), and at a frequency of every eight hours. I'm basically laughing bitterly inside my head, but you know what? If I can just hang on until Monday when I see the new rheumatologist…  and it's better than suffering without anything. It really is. I will just try to sleep. A lot. Like I've been doing since I ran out of meds. I mean, at least the pain is below a 10, right?

By this morning my bowels were completely emptying themselves from the pain and the stress on my body, mostly one way, but a little bit of the other by afternoon. I broke down crying on the phone with the nurse when she told me that they couldn't fax my script and that maybe they could mail it to me? She was really nice and took pity on me, which I appreciated. She even said that she was sorry for the whole mess, which I greatly appreciated, because this whole mess has been because of the doctor's offices… more specifically, that lame ass rheumatologist that I have been seeing for so long. (I'm toying with the idea of suing for damages… loss of income, loss of livelihood, that kind of thing. Especially if I come to find that there is any kind of permanent damage that could have been prevented if my doc had, oh I don't know, done some basic diagnostic work? No, no… not bitter at all. Hmph.)

I'm still hurting, and hurting a lot, but… it's better than it was just two hours ago. I can survive a few more days. I hope.