Monday, July 27, 2009


Um, yeah, forget that last post; the whole medication "thing," the resolute "I START MOTHERFUCKING PAXIL ON SUNDAY, BITCHES!" um, never happened. You see, in an ongoing effort to infuriate my pharmacist (and to avoid being killed by generic medication), I demanded brand name Paxil. Something that is, apparently, very hard to get. So hard to get, in fact, that to obtain such a rare and magical, little pill, one must possess special powers; such as the ability to pick up a fucking phone and order it. An ability my pharmacist has yet to master.

So in the two-week period that it took for him to secure a bottle of those magical, little, brand name pills, I started to think. I started to think (a) I really need to find a competent pharmacist; and (b) WTF?

How the hell did I walk out of that doctor's office with a prescription for Paxil? I went there for a rash, and—if we're being completely honest—the false belief that my throat was closing, but nonetheless! Taking drugs (prescribed ones, at least) has been something I've mulled over for years. Something I've resisted for years. And now, all of a sudden, I'm popping pills, because some arrogant quack told me I NEED to after a casual five-minute exam of the rash on my abdomen.

There was no discussion. No exploration of options. No mention of a psychiatrist. No nothing. Just an apathetic scribble on a little pad of paper.

I think Paxil would have been a dream come true for me three years ago. Today, I think I'm better suited for something like Valium; something I can pop in the heat of an attack (heart, or otherwise). My doctor may have known that, if he'd taken the time to ask.

Bottom line is this: I'm in the market for a new doctor. Oh and a pharmacist. But what else is new?


Anonymous said...


Good to see you blogging again.

I think you're on to something-- trade in the doctor. The pharmacist, of course, has been trained by the insurance companies. But I'm with you about the need for something you take as needed. I tried to talk my doctor into giving me a beta blocker for anxiety (worked in the past; although the stated reason was palpitations, my previous doctor told me it was okay to use it as needed). Anyway, current doctor, although a wonderful person, does not do much off-label prescribing and in fact is by-the-book in many ways. (She must not watch Boston Legal, where beta blockers were defended as preventing PTSD).

Said doctor has, incidentally, tried to talk me into counseling many times but somehow I never quite get there....

Currently hoping that headache behind left eye is a sinus infection and not a bleed or tumor.

Anonymous said...

Forgot to ask.....whatever happened with the rash?


Leila V. said...

Hi, Trish! It's nice to hear your voice, or read your comments (I guess I should say). It feels good to write again, I've been avoiding it, I think in a sub-conscious attempt to avoid my problems. Not to get all heavy on you or anything. The flesh-eating rash lives on; I've tried everything to no avail. Although, I'm more concerned with the Leukemia right now. Good luck with that pain in the eye, I know it all too well. And beta-blockers, huh? Haven't heard of that one before, I'm off to google.

tournesol said...

I know what you mean about not wanting drugs, but wanting something as needed. I was able to get a little something, Xanax, from my doctor a small amount at a time, just for a bad day and I found that I used them less just because I knew I had them. Just know they are there and available calms. Glad yr back today.

Leila V. said...

It's great to hear from you! How's life been treating you? A prescription for Xanax or Valium or something to steel my nerves on tough days—or mix with my drinks at night—would be incredibly helpful.

Undiagnosed13 said...

I have been searching all over for a online support group for hypochondriacs, but most of the other blogs I have read are so drepressing and it only brought me down to know how many others suffered from this...I was doubled over laughing at this blog while it is serious that you think you are dying every other day of some new rare or common, or random disease, manage to find humor in it and make others poke fun at their own thoughts. My friends or family who dont have this problem laugh at me when I tell them about things and it generally makes me mad that they dont take me serious...but ahhh and ephiphany...what it I dont take it as serious...will it fade, will it resolve,...I know it will never go away...but damn it I really want it to. I wasnt like this until I had kids, just kicked in out of no where during my second pregnancy. The doc thought it was post partium depression...because I just had my first baby a year before. I know right!! But anyway, I walked in about 4 months along and signed in for my ultra sound. I heard some RNs talking about a lady they were seeing next who had cancer and didnt know it (total violation of hippa) and I paniced. I thought it was me. I demanded to see my chart. Then even after seeing it I thought I have it and they dont want to tell me! From then after I was officially a head case! I wont have sex because I fear AIDS, I worry so bad that I have cancer or some fatal illness that I wont even go to the doc because I know I will go in with a cold and come out with cancer...or like you be immediately dismissed as being an anxiety ridden spazoid. I really like your blog and plan to follow it! Keep me up to date on your happenings. Thanks!