So this is going to be one of those stream of barely conscious consciousness posts. Because of an insurance snafu I have spent the past two days without access to my Effexor. This means that I have spent the past two days (which happen to be my two days off) in bed asleep, I did manage to take Mom to a doctor’s appointment yesterday, but then I went right back to bed.

This all started the other day when I innocently walked into the local CVS pharmacy to get my Effexor refilled. I was then informed that my beloved employer has switched Pharmacy Benefits provider from whateverthehellitwasbefore to Medco, and that I should have a new card with a new ID# and since I did not have these things I was, to use the technical parlance, shit out of luck.

Now, to be honest, there is no doubt an envelope from WalMart Benefits containing that card somewhere in a pile in my room. To look for it or to try to find a phone number to call and begin a trek through voice mail hell, this became my choice. I optioned for the third option, go back to bed.

Two days later – this morning, I rose from my bed determined to do something. When I am sans Effexor I am not only easily tearful, I also experience strange physical symptoms. I get a vertigo like sensation in my head, this makes my unsteady on my feet, and my speech…patterns…become…quite…erratic.

If you have ever subjected yourself to the Manos: The Hands of Fate episode of the brilliant Mystery Science Theater 3000, think Torgo the Caretaker without the satyr legs.

After a fruitless search through the stack of papers and unopened mail, I decided instead to call WalMart Benefits and begin my course through voice mail hell in search of a human being to talk to. Fortunately my stygian voyage was relatively short, after I pressed the correct buttons WM transferred me to Medco, since Medco uses voice recognition and could barely understand my voice; I was given to a very nice human who told me everything I needed to know. I was then able to call CVS and get my refill ordered, and I have just returned. I’m now waiting for my 300 milligrams of generic Venlafaxine goodness to kick in.

Am I allowed to say that I hate my life? That I hate my fucking brain? At least I live in a time where they have chemicals that can help me get a little closer to living a normal life. And my brain can occasionally turn out things that make some people laugh. Everybody has shit they have to go through. I’m certainly not the guy that has to deal with the most shit. Most people in the impoverished parts of the world would be ecstatic to trade their problems for mine. I know this.

Just having a pity party, folks. I’ll get over it. As soon as my chemicals kick in.


2 thoughts on “Better Living Through Chemistry

  1. My train of consciousness while reading this blog entry:
    “stygian voyage” – My head got stuck on that phrase. I am now guaranteed to use it sometime in the future.
    … related to phoning Walmeart benefits in this blog
    … meaning: dialing the automated line in hopes of getting to talk to a live person is like a trip to Hell. (apt, original, creative, classic mythological reference ramps up the respect for the piece, ie “the writer is smart”)
    These were the computations in my head as I lingered momentarily on “stygian voyage”.
    Then, quickly back to Joe, the man with a life he hates. Feeling a bit disconcerted as I take that in. Joe isn’t seeing things clearly. He is smart and funny and has a daughter that he talks to every day and they love each other. There are challenges, yes.
    Like the river Styx which supposedly makes those invincible who are immersed in it, this trip to Hell will make you stronger. Maybe not invincible. Even Achilles had that heel issue that was never resolved.
    I would like to say, “I’ll be here for you”, but what does that mean when I live so far away. As if my keyboard clicks will make everything okay. To say, “I understand” only demeans your pain. To not say anything is to say this doesn’t warrant comment – its not important. WHICH ISN’T TRUE!
    You leave me pitifully few options.
    So I wrote my stream of consciousness as if by participating in the exercise with you, it would be somehow as if I was really WITH you. As if. A feeble attempt. Sorry.

    • Nothing to apologize for, A1. Your keyboard clicks do help a lot. I have to keep in mind that I do have faith…most of the time, and when I don’t I can always fall back on the old Nietzsche line, “That which does not kill me makes me stronger.” Both approaches have truth and validity.
      Thank you for being there and your always apt comments.

      PS. Glad you liked the stygian thing 🙂

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