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.
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.