What happens when I go for acupuncture: I walk in and get greeted warmly by the receptionist, who tells me to go right on in. I wait less than 5 minutes for an acupuncturist, who asks me what’s wrong, inserts needles, wraps me in blankets and gets me more tea.
What happens when I call my doctor’s office for treatment: They tell me there are no more appointments available that day, I should go to urgent care. I go to urgent care, where the wait is over 75 minutes. I go home because sitting in a room full of sick people for over an hour is not going to help me.
I call back to see if I can get an appointment for tomorrow. Yes. Great. I go to the appointment the next day, where I have to spend 20 minutes at the check-in desk going through insurance updates and questions that result in receptionists yelling at me to wear a mask. Mask triggers deep-seated trauma around having ears grabbed during a rape, so I start crying. Wait 15 minutes to see doctor, who immediately calls in two prescriptions and says she will call in a third depending on the results of my X-ray and flu test results. I get the X-ray. Pharmacy sends note saying they have filled one of my prescriptions. I decide to wait to get them until the next morning, when they will probably have the other ones filled as well. Doctor calls to tell me I do not have the flu.
Next morning: Go to pharmacy to get prescription, ask about the other drugs. Cough meds on backorder, no third prescription yet. Pharmacist suggests I ask for a different cough meds, then tells me that all the alternatives are also backordered, so, not really sure what to do.
I go home and discover I have almost a full bottle of the backordered meds left over from last year’s bronchitis. As I pop one, I wonder why I didn’t take them all last year. An hour later when I am shaky, sleepy, and still coughing, I remember. Call doctor’s office to check on x-ray results. Leave message asking for callback, get no response.
Call doctor’s office again today, hold for 15 minutes while listening to a recording telling me that Dartmouth-Hitchcock is concerned about providing excellent, efficient care. Try not to sent psychic hate vibes to person spewing this hypocrisy. Still can’t get an answer on what’s going on with the prescription that was supposed to come based on the results of the X-ray I had two days ago.
Give up. Make tea. Curl up on couch in fetal position. Hope cats possess some sort of magical anti-viral healing vibes.