atomic_fungus (atomic_fungus) wrote,


Hell yes I'm offended by this.

...I bought an On-Cor dinner when I went shopping Wednesday afternoon. Six rib-shaped pork patties in barbeque sauce--I had not been able to think of anything for dinner that sounded good; but I could use the broccoli I bought a couple weeks ago, make some instant garlic mashed potatos, and have faux-McRib sandwiches for dinner. That sounded appetizing, so I bought it.

Got home, unloaded the Jeep, started cooking. It may have taken me as much as 20 minutes to throw dinner together, but most of that time was simple waiting. The most physically-demanding part was cutting up the broccoli.

After the entree had finished cooking it had to cool for two minutes; that's when I nuked the potatos. And smelling the entree, I thought, "That does not smell much like barbeque sauce. It smells like ketchup." I tasted it. It was ketchup, and it wasn't even good ketchup.

No real BBQ sauce in the house, either. *sigh* I put big slabs of onion on the sandwich and ate it, though it was not very tasty.

I had an urge for some frosted oatmeal cookies--that's a whole 'nother rant there--so I went to the corner grocery store, thinking I'd pick up BBQ sauce and frosted oatmeal cookies.

They had the BBQ sauce, anyway. I just now woke up (I collapsed around 8-ish) and reheated the food, this time with Open Pit Hickory flavor BBQ sauce...and the sandwich tastes good.

It makes me want to go to wherever they make On-Cor meals, find the guys who came up with the recipe, and bitchslap every last damn one of them.

* * *

Frosted oatmeal cookies:

You know the kind I'm talking about? They're crispy and have a thin layer of icing on the top. They're usually not too expensive. The ones I prefer most are the Archway brand, approximately "bite-size" and in a bag rather than a plastic tray. I looked for them when I went shopping for the regular groceries; then I looked at the corner store when I went for BBQ sauce. Two stores, and skunked both times. WTF. from the second store I bought a package of Matt's oatmeal raisin cookies even though they're neither frosted nor crispy; and when I opened the package the damn cookies were all half-folded, like they'd been boxed up while still too warm and collapsed in on themselves. So I'm never buying Matt's cookies again.

* * *

Weer'd says FUCK NO to Romney.

"Mitt Romney on the other hand managed to raise taxes, pass Romneycare, and outlaw 'Assault Weapons' indefinitely."

I didn't know about the "assault weapons" thing.

"Obama is just a Brown George Bush, and Romney is a Mormon Obama."

Like Weer'd, I'm not voting for Romney. Over. Period. End of line. The GOP has to learn to stop promoting Democrats-by-another-name, damn it.

Besides, if that means another four years of Obama, that just gives him more time to fuck up so badly they have to impeach him.

* * *

So this afternoon, about four-ish, I called the Wal-Mart pharmacy to check on the status of my prescriptions, and I am glad I did. You see, the doctor decided not to okay a refill because he "didn't remember writing the prescription". Despite the fact that I have been having these prescriptions filled approximately every sixty days since January of 2004, and about half the time there have been no pre-authorized refills.

His nurse/executive assistant/whatever expressed some confusion as well, because the refills are all in my chart. It's not like I'm coming to him every two weeks and saying, "Yeah, I need another refill on my Xanax, man! Thirty pills just don't get me through a month any more!"

...I was told that the RX was going to be called in to Wal-Mart and that I would get my refill, and the doctor would "review" my chart. Theoretically this means I'll be able to pick up my pills tomorrow evening. Only "theoretically" because I was told, when I first called them at 9:30 AM Wednesday morning, that the RX had been called in to Wal-Mart. Only it wasn't, and the RX wasn't ready when I called at 4:30. Yeah. So I take that with a grain of salt and won't believe it until I am walking out of Wal-Mart with the RXes in my hand.

So #1 on the agenda tomorrow for talking with the therapist will be about finding someone to prescribe my medications. She has a shrink she refers people to, and it would be worthwhile to do that. At least there would be less trouble about getting refills.

...I think I am just about ready to find a new doctor. General practitioner, I mean--because I have been less than enchanted with the way this guy does things for quite a while, now, and this may be the last straw.

I mean, come on. This is an SSRI; you can't just stop taking those. (Wipedia entry "SSRI discontinuation syndrome" for those that don't know why.)

And just to refuse to write the RX and not call the patient and say, "Hey, we're not going to continue to write that RX, and here's why"? That is bullshit. Especially when the patient called a week before his RX ran out.

I don't have a problem with the doctor deciding he no longer wants to write refills on that prescription; I can simply go see a shrink, as noted above. If my doctor wants to see me before he will refill it, that's fine too; I'm unemployed and my schedule is wide open. But in a case like that it's helpful if he actually tells me. You know?

Last Tuesday, I had plenty of time to iron out problems; if the doctor's office had bothered calling me and saying something about it, I would have had plenty of time to deal with the situation and find a solution. Instead, they just ignore the fax from the pharmacy and say nothing to anyone about it, and then give me the run-around when I call them directly! This is inexcusable.

I requested this refill on the fourth; it's been nine days and I still haven't got my meds...and I'm down to the last dose. I skipped taking last night's dose to spread out the last pill (since I take half a tablet per day) and there is now only half a tablet left. If I don't have more pills by tomorrow evening, I'll be taking the last pill on Friday. By Monday I'll be in the ER with shakes and sweats and confusion and so on. Whee!

But you know what? If I do, I'm going to find a lawyer and sue my doctor and the company employing him for a lot of money. It's not quite malpractice, but it sure is bullshit. I might be crazy but I fail to see how any of this is my fault, and this professional has handled this situation very, very badly indeed.

* * *

The memory for the torrent box arrived this afternoon with the mail.

Tonight's project will be to dig out the spare 500 GB drive, plug it into the USB dongle, and dump the contents to another drive. I've got to figure out which one that'll be, but that's not really a big problem. It'll be one of the external drives, of course.

If the case comes tomorrow afternoon as scheduled, then tomorrow night's project will be--well, you know. Heh. Assembly and troubleshooting (if any is required) and then installing a panoply of software, starting with Windows Vista and moving forward from there. uTorrent, Firefox, etc. And zen I shall rule ze vorld vith my army of etomic zupermen!

(...last line courtesy of some random Ed Wood movie starring Bela Lugosi. I can't remember which one. I think it was the one with the non-motorized robotic squid, though.)

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