I don’t know what my freakin’ problem is. I was doing FINE. I mean, I wasn’t perfect, but I was feeling okay. Almost normal. Then, for some (god-hates-me-but-doesn’t-want-t0-admit-it) reason my body decided to nose dive yesterday afternoon. I ate breakfast (okay, breakfast for lunch) at like 1:30 and felt a little crappy but whatever, I never feel good after I eat, so after dropping my friend off I head home to do chores. I get a few little things done but my stomach pain kept getting progressively worse. With in an hour I was on the couch in fetal position crying. Kind of like how I end up when I drink too much, except for this wasn’t NEARLY as fun. My stomach felt like someone was ripping out my innards with a rusty spoon.
It was bad. It hasn’t been that bad since before I got my diagnosis (Crohns Disease). Seriously it was all I could do to sit there and cry. I ended up calling Bryan for help because I went to the ER. I set up a babysitter and I made one last call to my Dad and Linda. Linda suggested I go in for pain, but because I was in the ER so much before my diagnosis, I was labeled a drug seeker so it would be harder to get pain management. I called my Dr, but he didn’t answer, so I called my Dad back in tears. With in an hour, he called back and I told Dr. Chaio all that was going on.
Side note: I have public aid, have since Tim lost his job last year.
So I explained to him that I can’t afford an office appointment, and apparently my step-mom Linda is getting me in this week. (I need a referral from my assigned general doctor for public aid to cover it, and that’s a huge pain and didn’t work) So until then he prescribed me Entocort and an anxiety/sedative med. Liquid diet through Sunday (does that include whiskey? Sadly… no. )
Bryan and I headed off to pick up my medicines at Walgreens, I was so happy. Finally some kind of relief and some real treatment. So we pull up to the pharmacy drive through. The pharmacy tech informs me that the medical card does not cover the Entocort. Last time I had to pay out of pocket for a month’s worth it was just over $500. So I called my Dad and he wanted to know the exact price so he could call Dr. Chaio for me. So I asked.
Yeah. Thanks. No thanks. I started crying. My dad got upset, and I went into panic mode. Over a grand for meds that I *NEED*. I ended up getting them in the end, but I’m not comfortable talking about how.
So the drill is, Dr. Chaio wants me to take the steroids again, even though he doesn’t think they will work this time around, at least not to the full effect. Take the sedative to sleep. If I’m not feeling better by the time I have my appointment, sometime this week, then we will be discussing the next step in treatment. If I feel pain worse than yesterday at any time, I am supposed to go straight to the ER because Dr. Youpaymetoomuchmoney thinks I may have a blockage or a fistula. Hoorah. Surgery.
So today, I’ve had chicken broth and haven’t gotten sick yet. I’m not feeling too hot, but way better than yesterday.
*stirs med cocktail* Cheers! Here’s to a failing body!