Spending The Entire Day Waiting

US-veteran

Yesterday I spent the entire day at the Michael E. DeBakey Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Houston waiting for assistance at the pharmacy. When I say all day what I really mean is I was in line for mandatory valet parking at 7:04 am, by line I mean there were already 64 vehicles ahead of me, for a service which doesn’t even start until 7:30 am. This is after a 55 minute drive from my house. But, before I begin my monologue about my personal frustrations with the VA Medical wait times or my personal complaints, my experience is minor compared to most others trying to get more critical treatment. In no way am I saying I have bigger problems, just I have my own problems. Regardless of what a person’s reason for visiting a VA Medical center, things should happen in a more timely manner than what it does currently.

My reason, and I had only one reason, for visiting the VA Medical center was a very clear and simple mission, to find out who and why my insulin changed. I would waste time explaining the significance to everyone but only a diabetic and doctors (most) would understand. Let’s just say we don’t change insulin for no reason at a whim. What started this quest was simple, Friday I got my new 30 day supply of insulin which was the wrong “brand” and the wrong dose. Names change so I did a little research and found what they sent me was wrong altogether. I called the pharmacy, and the short version is, I was told I must be mistaken and if a mistake was made it was because I ordered refills for the wrong insulin. Really? I’m that fucking stupid? I referred to my Rx # and so forth directly from the myhealth website and I was again told the mistake was all me. After hanging up I contacted my PCP in Conroe, spoke with her nurse, and was assured nothing had changed in my prescription details. Well, at that point in the day it way too late to drive into the VA so I made plans for Monday morning. Unfortunately those plans got scrapped and I was delayed until Tuesday. For your curiosity purposes I have included a screen capture from today to illustrate how vets can use this website to order and track prescriptions and yes this is my own personal list.

After driving, after waiting for mandatory valet parking, and after getting my number at the pharmacy, I sat there prepared to have a discussion with the pharmacist. I had my last vile, the vile they sent me, and the printed version of what you see below. So, I waited. after 2 1/2 hours my number came up so I got in line to wait another 20 minutes. Finally, when it was my turn to speak with a pharmacy technician, I was told that he could not help me with my problems and that I would need to take a different number so I could be consulted by the pharmacist. WTF? Again, I sat and waited in the sparsely populated waiting room of the pharmacy. Now, we are in lunch time so the slowness begins creeping to an almost halt. I’m hungry, but not hungry enough to leave and lose my place in line. Good thing I had brought a baggie full of spicy roasted almonds for a snack. Somewhere around 2:30 pm I was again alerted my number was up and got back in the line to wait behind the others whose numbers were called. Finally, the light at the end of the tunnel appears, I’m next. I was so close I could taste it.

The pharmacist very nicely asked what my problems were and how could he assist me. After explaining it all again to him he looked at me and told me any and all changes had to come directly from my PCP. Really? What changes did she make which changed not only my insulin but almost triples my dose? Of course, there ate no changes on record. The he pulled the “you must have ordered the wrong insulin when you did your refill request” bullshit. How in the hell can I do that? I have one fucking choice and that is what in the fuck I clicked. Here is the real kick in the balls, he tells me regardless of anything that is said that the current 30 day supply of insulin has already been verified, processed, and shipped which means he can not refill any more until July and if changes through my PCP happen then those will need to happen prior to that date. WTF are you smoking? If I am in need of this insulin immediately then I need to purchase it on my own. If I thought I would look good in prisoner orange I would have just ended his smart ass right then and there. FUCK I hate this fucking place!

And, by the way, one can not simply go to a civilian pharmacy and get insulin without a fucking prescription. I can, however, go on line and order it from a pharmacudicals supply in Canada with no prescription for a mere $260.10 plus express shipping. Yea, like that’s gonna fucking happen. Who knows what the fuck would be in that vile. As a result, my civilian PCP was nice enough to see me this morning. That only cost me $167.30 but he did give me a prescription for the correct insulin and the correct dosage. Which was generous of him, probably since I have been a patient of his for the last 15 years. So I got lucky, this time. At the pharmacy I had to pay the self-pay cost of $208.08 but now I have what I need for the next thirty days. I also am able to get in to see my VA PCP at the end of June so things hopefully work out and get back on track, hopefully.

No, I do not think I can ever get them to admit this whole thing was their mistake. I have come to a conclusion in the short time of dealing with the medical portion of the VA, they have to not have a soul or something to work there. I wonder how in the fuck they sleep at night. I do know, it is because they operate with no conscience. But, to be fair, I base this opinion solely on the people I have encountered myself. However, I have met ex-VA doctors, nurses, and technicians who say that they did not agree with how things worked but their hands were always tied when trying to make a positive difference. I can’t say I know what every veteran is going through and I know my problems are simple compared to most because my are Rx related. I would hate to see the state of my “health & wellbeing” if my only option was the VA. I am deeply sorry our Veterans must endure such bullshit as a course of their own survival, they truly deserve better, they deserve the best that is offered, and maybe with their asses in the news now the VA will clean their act up. I know, I know, wishful thinking.

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Imagine The World Without Fucktards

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I imagine the world without fucktards every once in a while, then I am reminded somehow that the rest of the world needs fucktards, because every person on the planet wants to know what runs through a fucktards mind from time to time. Personally, I don’t want to spend any time whatsoever in the deep reaches of the interworking of the brain of any particular fucktards. I have noticed that there has become an increased number of fucktards in my life lately. Why? Maybe it is the places I have been visiting, and that isn’t just limited to the federal, state, and local government offices I have had to visit for reasons that I have been mentioning in the past. I will get into that in more detail as I go along. I have a trio for y’all today since I found a way to kill three birds with one stone, rather, as it would be, I ended up pissing in the bowls of a few fucktards bowl of Wheaties this morning for no more reason than what had to be said or done had to be said and done. So, let’s begin.

First stone was at the VA Medical Center in Hoiston to pick up my insulin that has been claimed to be undeliverable to the same address that ALL my other medications were mailed to and received. It was said to be attempted to deliver twice and returned twice for wrong address. Meaning, some fucktard dropped the ball twice and to cover his/her ass put in the false information. How do I know? When I asked what the tracking numbers assigned to the shipment by the VA and by the post office there were none to be found. Caught you bitches in two lies which upsets a fucktards. Then, for the cherry on top, they give me a 30 day supply not my ordered 90 day supply which means I get to play this fucked up game once again. Then, since I have yet to get my new glucose meter I went to the diabetic education office to speak with the head cheese to finally get it. Oops, she retired last month but absolutely nobody on the planet knows this except her. Did I get my meter? No, because the office will remain closed indefinitely until she is replaced. Really frustrated, I now leave the medical center before I really end up choking some random fucker for no other reason than it would feel real good to me at this point.

Since I was downtown I went to go pick up some hot rod remote control truck parts I bought from a dealer on line. When I get there to pick up my $327.67 order I was informed by this young smart mouth fucktards that since I did not pick up my order within the prescribed 24 period that my items were restocked and sold. As I explained to this dumbass, I ordered my items online Wednesday @ 8:13 pm for in store pickup at the very store I was standing in this morning. But wait, there a catch, they are only open Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Even though I repeatedly contested based on this information he was not going to refund my money unless I paid the $75.00 restocking fee first. Really. I will admit, I let him piss me off, I raised my voice quite a bit and was throwing the word (in many variations) fun k like today WS the last day I could ever use it. It got the attention of the store owner, someone I have known for some 20 plus years who came over to inform me that the kid was new and my order was safe and sound. He asked if I still wanted it and I of course did so he went to retrieve it for me. To “smooth things over” I think, he gave me a $100.00 gift voucher to be used with in the next year in store only. We spoke for a bit more and then I grabbed my order and left. It left me thinking, what would the fucktards kid have done if the owner wasn’t there? He would have laid on the floor lifeless because he forced me to choke the dieing breath out of him for pissing me off beyond personal control. Would that be a good defense, hypothetically, when I was charged with the murder of a fucktards? I would be doing the would a favor, right?

Thirdly I ddropped into see the owner of the strip club I was formally employed with part time because she owed me $600.00 for some work I did for her personally at her house last month as a paid favor. I won’t get into what I was doing for her but it put me out around $250.00 in supplies that I paid for in advance. She said she would pay me later because when I went to settle she attempted to give me a check for something she agreed to pay cash for. I am easy so I accepted waiting. I don’t get to this side of town any more so I figured I would stop by the office to get paid. You’ll never guess, she didn’t have the cash on her even though I contacted her yesterday afternoon to let her know I was coming by to collect. Well, I guess it was the wrong answer. I hung out for 15 minutes while she ran to the bank. She brought be back $500.00 dollars, her ATM cash limit to give to me and I took a $100.00 check so I wouldn’t be forced to come back. Yeah me! I am such a nice guy. I then left, heading home. Pissed off with my morning I totally forget to go to the bank and I realize this as I look on the table in front of me and see her check.

In the end I did kill three birds with one stone. Those three birds also got a big fat bird from me to salute their pure and utter fucktardedness. They fight a good fight and stay true to their cause and for that I always feel inclined to give them my favorite one finger salute. Well, the VA got a single finger fuck you salute from each hand this morning because really, really deserved it.

Every Beginning Ends

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I was once told, for a reason I can’t remember, the every beginning is the result of another beginnings end. I don’t know why I am thinking of that today other than I realized that I prefer privatized healthcare over being a part of the VA healthcare system. Its almost like moving backwards instead of forwards when it comes down to my health concerns. I have, in my own personal opinion, two that give me the greatest concerns. Those being my knee and my diabetes. Care and or treatment for both have turned into an absolute clusterfuck if you were to ask me. If I want to talk to a dumbass fucktard I can go to Walmart, however, when discussing my health with a healthcare “professional” I do expect that you know more than me. So far, I am fully disappointed with most of what I have experienced with the VA healthcare system. Not to be confused with the VA who have accommodated me since day one all the way back in 1999 when it was decided that exiting the Air Force was in my best interest. A decision made for me but as I look back it was probably still the best decision because I wasn’t sure if what I did is what I wanted to be doing any longer anyway. Maybe I will get into that soon as it would seem I have been doing quite a bit of reflecting on my life here the last few months.

Now, one would think that one could trust the VA medical to do its part in ensuring that when they make changes in ones medications that they hold up their end of the deal and ship them out to you as promised in a timely manner. I suppose I am the dumbass for assuming that would be the case. In grand anticipation of the changes I seemed to overlook one thing, I way overestimated what I thought should be a timely manner. Why? On 25 March 2014 I saw a diabetic specialist who prescribed me a different insulin because the VA doesn’t offer the dial a unit pen version. I needed a refil so it go changed so I could accommodate the way they do business. Fair enough I guess. However, after ten days (the allotted wait time) I received all of my refils with the exception of a few, one that was back ordered (indefinitely), and two that were never ordered, my glucose test meter and my insulin. After inquiring and getting the cock and bullshit story I was reassured that it was now done. Oh, and by the way, we will go ahead and order the syringes you will be needing as well. I made this call on 09 April 2014. Yesterday, yes the 16th, I received my syringes, but nothing else. I called to inquire again and was told it was all mailed on the 14th so give it another 7-10 days before any concern can be given. Really? Good goddamn thing I got friends in low places (I.e. doctors) who made sure I received a loaded pen of my old insulin to carry me to the big switch event. I want to be done fucking around and being fucked around by the VA medical. I see now why they have a well deserved reputation of being a literal joke. But wait, there’s more.

Today I saw an orthopedic specialist for my knee. The same knee that has had eight surgeries on it and nobody wants to replace it with a shiny new one. As well, this doctor, in his best opinion, believes that there is nothing he can do to better the way it feels, moves, or functions. Do know how hard it is to explain to another human being what “pain” is to you? Now, try doing that same explanation to a doctor, now do that with a VA doctor. Do you know what the result is? There is no result. None. There are predetermined answers which much be given to downplay what one is feeling. So, I get to be made out to feel like shit because my knee, once again, is shredding to utter pieces. Yes, I did xrays and some other imaging about three weeks ago. Yes, he reviewed them in front of me, yes he cringed a little when he saw all the screws, bolts, and other artificial bullshit that showed up plain as the nose on your face. However, even though he commented that the hardware had shifted and I have a screw backing out that this fact has nothing to do with what “appears” to be my ACL ligament being ruptured yet again. Oh really? I tossed out my yellow bullshit flag and called for a time out why we reviewed his credentials. No diploma on the wall but he has a real cool badge. The long and short of it is that I was given a cortisone shot and a prescription for antiinflammatory medication which I should get in 7-10 business days. I won’t hold my breath. I got a better exam from my son who explained to me that if something hurt to do then just don’t do it. Well, shit, that solves everything, I will just stop walking and standing from this point forward. On a patient/doctor statisfication rating of 1-10 I give this a 1 with my middle finger being then one I choose to show how happy I am right this second. Oh, I get to go back in the end of July to see if I have improved at all. I can make a prediction on how that appointment will go, y’all probably can as well.

If this hasn’t been fun enough, I registered with the “my healthcare.VA.gov” website only to find out that to access any of my records I have to go to the main facility with a government form in hand to be verified in person with proof of I.d. so they known its me on-line. This is so much fun I couldnjustnshitnrazor blades in rejoice. I know, sounds like allot of whining, complaining, and bitching for no real reason. Well, if it helps y’all, in feel the reasons are pretty valid. For the first time in my life I imagined how good it would feel to choke the life out of someone giving me grief for no special reason. Is this karma sneaking up non me to let me know that it is finally time to be rewarded for all the years I have been an asshole? I should be careful who I ask that. Anyway, appearantly the adventure (my life) continues on yet for another day, whether I like it or not, I can be happy about that I suppose.

An Attack Of Aichmophobia

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An attack of aichmophobia is not something a diabetic ever wants to have. I have a real healthy fear and appreciation of needles because as much as I hate them I know I need them day to day. For those of y’all who didn’t already know that I’m diabetic then this will be a little peek into my personal life for you. Before this morning I have never suffered from any kind of needle anxiety since I first found out I was diabetic. In the beginning I told my wife she will just let me die in peace because I will NOT be jabbing needles into my body on purpose. Fuck needles! Now, I still feel the same way, but I also know that needles are that necessary evil bitch that must exist in my personal life. So, I was forced to suck up my dislikes for needles, grow a pair of nuts, and suck it up because this is the way it was going be. Fine. Whatever. Let’s rock this bitch.

This morning at o’ darkthirty I went to test my glucose level, something I do everyday, three times a day, and I was on the verge of blacking out. I had my very first anxiety attack ever in my life and this was not the fucking time for it to happen. It is not a good time when you are millimeters away from your fingertip with an extremely sharp object. First came the tunnel vision, then the instant cold sweat, the shakes, and then finally I felt myself blacking out so I just sat down on the kitchen floor so it wouldn’t be such a terrible impact to the floor. As I sat there, hunched over, looking at my lancet on the floor beside me, I realized that I needed to put some distance between me and it. But I couldn’t move, I was frozen, I was stuck with this extremely sharp object inches away from my skin. Fuck! Here we go again, it was a good thing I was already on the floor.

I guess it was a good thing that something hit the floor real hard and broke because it woke my daughter who came to see what it was. She, in turn, goes to get my wife after seeing that I was too coherent about my surroundings. I felt the coolness of my wife’s hands on the back of my neck, I could hear she was talking to me, but I don’t know what she was saying. After a few minutes I did understand it when she told my daughter to get her phone so she could call 911. I told her not to call, just bring me some water and I will be fine sitting there for a bit. After about 15 minutes everything seemed to go back to normal with the exception of the big headache I had. My wife and I talked about it while I was getting dressed as she explained to me that I still needed my shot. She has never, and I mean never when I say never, given me a shot before but says she will if I need her to. She collected my testing bag and tested my sugar to get my dosage right. I looked away after showing her where to inject me and she did it for me. In a way, for a reason unknown to me, I felt a bit embarrassed because I couldn’t do it for myself.

I have thought about this damn thing all day and still can’t figure out what happened. Yes, I hate fucking needles with absolute passion and will do almost anything to avoid being in their presence. However, I had kicked that little thing in the ass I thought. Maybe I fell off the wagon. Maybe my defenses were down because I have been working as many overtime hours as I have regular hours the last month. Maybe I was just tired. I will know the answer later tonight when it comes time to inject again. I just hope it is a different answer than this morning. I spoke with my doctor and he said that maybe it was a one time nerves type thing. He also said that if it continues that he will be forced to put me on anxiety medication. I don’t see that happening personally.