It Isn’t the End of the World

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So I worked a shift yesterday.

Kinda.

 

Sorta.

 

I got dressed and ready perfectly fine and was on my way to DAAR (Disney’s Art of Animation Resort) without any panicy feelings.

Those didn’t start until after I had arrived. But Andy saw me first thing and pulled me into a big hug. I don’t think I would have even been able to be okay with simply setting my alarm to get there without feeling her backing me up.

She had me start out by doing online check in’s in the back with Katie (who has a psychology degree) to ease me in and just… they both teamed up and were my super heroes.

Really. Just, I couldn’t have even done a single thing without them.

Now that doesn’t mean that I was happy and floating like a butterfly. I was having panic attacks and having to walk away to find a dark space often but they understood and that was okay.

I did it though.

Which means I can do it again.

I know who I can go to if Andy isn’t there, and what I need to do if I have an attack on stage. I am still trying to process everything that happened so I will probably have to type up my thoughts and the account of everything that happened later at home (where I don’t have internet for the laptop) and just upload the next time I come here.

 

Speaking of, oh ho ho, am I awesome or what.

I found a table in a corner, by the window and with a powerstrip.

What does that mean, folks?

My table is the creme de la creme.

Florida is just freakin' gorgeous.

Florida is just freakin’ gorgeous.

In other news, thanks to this manic episode I am getting things done and questions answered.

And Wisdom Teeth. My left side had apparently given all it could give and now it the right side’s turn. My poor face, so swollen.

Super Duper Chipmunk cheeks thanks to the wisdom teeth.

Super Duper Chipmunk cheeks thanks to the wisdom teeth.

 

Tomorrow is my appointment with Georgia Peach (the name is still funny cause she is actually Hispanic from NYC) and hopefully I will get some tools I can use for my attacks and I plan to go to Epcot and the parks afterwards to take lots of photos to share with y’all before the  Flower and Garden festival is over.

OH YEAH

I called the Dok-Tore’s office yesterday to cancel that “follow-up” and they had changed their entire voice mail.

Now, non-emergency messages will be returned the next business day and any other message will be returned “when possible.”

You have no idea how are it was to keep a straight face both mentally and physically when I left my own message cancelling.

So sweet, it was such a sweet feeling.

Toodle-loo, toots!

 

 

Leaving The Dok-Tore

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This past Wednesday was my appointment with the Dok-Tore. But to start the night before I was immobilized with stomach pains for near on eight hours from the anxiety. I generally tend to have a high pain tolerance but this had me in a cold sweat. It probably has entirely to do with the fact it was triggered by anxiety.
I was terrified of what would be occurring the next morning. I knew it wouldn’t be pretty. And I was right.
It wasn’t until around two in the morning I was finally able to sleep. And then had to wake up at five thirty in the morning. But that was nothing really.

I am used to odd hours or no sleep.

Y’all know that.
Normally for me, whenever I have to go out to as I call it “Disney-Side”, I have to leave two hours prior to when I am supposed to be there. If I do not have that hour window, it will trigger severe anxiety.
It probably should have been a sign that with the Dok-Tore, I was okay leaving only an hour and a half and was easy on the gas, week after week.
Anyways, back to what I am sure everyone (no-one) wants to hear.

What actually happened at the appointment

As usual I had to wait nearly half an hour after my appointment time for my five minute med check. However, this time I was going to be going after more than meds and it would take more than five minutes.
Do you remember how at my last appointment I was agitated that some unknown girl had sat in on my appointment with the Dok-Tore, and never took the time to introduce herself. When I was called backit was obvious that this was going to be the case once more.
So, after greeting the Dok-Tore and I had sat down this tall thin girl closed the door behind her and went to go sit down. Before she could reach her chair I asked for her name.
“Could I have your name, please?”
I wasn’t overtly sweet. Nor malicious. But straight and secure. I wanted her name.
“Oh, I’m Jess!”

Very cheery with a big smile.
Well, that’s lovely, Jess. But next time, introduce yourself if you are going to be listening to someone pour their heart out and expose their demons. Not only is this a practice of good manners but the decent thing to do.
The Dok-Tore asked how I was and I answered honestly.
Frustrated.
I was very frustrated.
“Over the weekend I left three voice mails. And not a single one was returned.”

I went into detail about Thursday’s call and Friday’s panic filled agenda.

“That doesn’t sound right, at all…”

I pulled out the letter from Cigna and asked for a break down of the $1,800 charge.

Once again, “that doesn’t sound right. I have no idea why you would be charged this amount.”

For a while I had a suspicion that Lauren was the one who actually ran the show.

Who fills and files all paperwork and notes?

Lauren.

Who interviews and diagnoses any and all new patients?

Lauren.

Who reviews testing results and explains them to the Dok-Tore?

Lauren.

And who apparently does all the billing work?

Lauren.

So why is this detached old man prescribing my pills?

The Dok-Tore handed the not-bill over to ‘Jess’ and sent her to find who?

Lauren.

I was expecting a little bit of a wait as every time I would call, Lauren would be with a patient.

But she was in that door in less a minute.

And she was on fire.

Speaking very quickly, very fast.

“They want us to bill when we score the test and Cigna tells us to bill it at a specific amount…”

“That’s fine. I just wanted a break down. I figured it was some of the testing.”

“The test (singular) wasn’t scored while you were here.”

Still speaking very quickly. Why so frantic? And 1,800 for one test? It had to be the 750 true or false questions because the spit test

was taken on the 31st of March.

“And I am going to have to ask that you are polite to my staff including myself whenever you are here.”

…Excuse me?

 

Is it not rude to sit in the corner staring down someone in the midst of anxiety attacks without even divulging your name? If this is standard procedure, fine. But I am not standard. And it is fairly obvious.

I had kept myself quiet and just looked at her as she continued to try using her height from standing over me as I sat across from the Dok-Tore.

Body Language screaming match.

And about the voice mails.

She said they had tried calling me three times. And the first words out of her mouth were “we can show you the call logs.”

But all you have is a desk phone.

Right.

You called me three times on Friday you say?
What about Thursday when I was placed on hold for so long an automated assistant talking about a rotary phone made me leave a voice mail?

You didn’t try calling me back, then?
And in all these “attempts” you never left a single voice mail, even though I had signed a release specifically allowing that?

“I’m sorry, but I do not believe you.”

My call logs on my cell phone were pulled up for the Dok-Tore’s contact info showing any and all phone calls with that number. And there were only outgoing calls. The seventeen minute call on Thursday with over 15 minutes being on hold. And then the two calls on Friday both lasting roughly two minutes leaving a voicemail both times.

“I believe you called us, but you didn’t answer our return calls!”

“No. Look at my phone. You did not call me. There are only out going calls. No missed, none received. And if we look here at my timeline call log you can see I successfully received separate phone calls from my parents, sister and Cigna. But none from you.”

She gave me the Cigna bill and left.

After the door close I turned to the Dok-Tore and simply said, “I am truly sorry, but I do not believe her. I have caught her lying before and the evidence proves otherwise.”
He could only say that they didn’t lie to their patients.
Well of course. What are you gonna do?

“Yes, We lie.”

Nope. Never.

I knew at that point I would not be returning. I was called rude for inquiring about inconsistencies and failure to to follow policy. And a liar to boot.

No, I could never step foot in the office again.

After that, the Dok-Tore played as if nothing had happened. He went to up the Seroquel again to 500 mg “for three nights,” and then 600 mg.

I told him about taking Benadryl with the Seroquel to quell the side effects and his eyebrows went way up.
Because of this he decided to try a new medication. Zyprexa. 5 mg nightly. And Klonopin for the panic attacks. At 1 mg nightly.
I had asked if it was an on case by case basis taking the Klonopin but no, nightly.

I told them they had to write a note excusing me from my shift Friday since I had to call in due to their failure but of course, the Dok-Tore said Lauren would take care of it. Because of that, I didn’t even bother. They wouldn’t write it. I know it.
I left the Dok-Tore’s sub-office and went to wait in the microscopic waiting room for David to setup my prescription and make the follow up appointment we all knew I will not be going to.

He was at his desk folding papers for a solid five minutes while I sat waiting.

I took the opportunity to calm the shakes and dry my eyes. Dad called while I was waiting and I stepped out into the hallway to let him know what was going on. We spoke for about five minutes or so and when I went back in, David looked at me and left. Then stepped back and said my name and that he would be right back.

Short of ten minutes he did get back. I had to sign a copy of paper for the Klonopin which I learned was a controlled substance.

Which blew my mind.

One thing that always bothered me is that when you make a follow up appointment, you don’t have a choice. They say, “kay. See you Wednesday at… three.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Kay, it will have to be at 9:30, then.”

What happened to, “when is a good time for you?”

I left not even marking the time to memory for the empty follow up date. The past two appointments David didn’t bother writing out an appointment card.

I got in my car after picking up my prescription and called Mom.

Let’s just skip the next two hours.

All I was doing was drive to the psychologist’s office and wait two hours until my appointment with her. I spent the time writing in my journal Vol. II.

I was very worried about speaking with … you know what? I think I will call her my Guardian Angel.

Or GA for short. Or Peach. Like a Georgia Peach.

Yes, Peach.

Well, I was worried that Peach may have been biased as she has worked with the Dok-Tore for a very long time. But she was so professional and simply said that it seemed like the environment wasn’t for me and I should just move on and try else where. She got me tissues when I started to cry (for the first time in five months) unlike at the Dok-Tore’s when my eyes were watering but not full on tears.

I also learned one last thing about the Dok-Tore’s office. Remember the old woman that for some reason just didn’t like me?

She is his wife.

Oh, jeeze that explains everything. Not to sound conceited but married women and I… there is a natural energy between us and they usually do not like me. I am pretty much asexual to the general public. Unless I really feel comfortable or I force an expression of attraction, you won’t see me flirting or “putting out those vibes”. But they still… harbor animosity.

Back to the Peach. We continued to talk and revisited my anxiety and she explained my questions about the Bipolar Severe.
“Bipolar Severe is crippling, debilitating essentially stopping and blocking any attempt at living. The threat of suicide is ever present along with frequent hallucinations. Bipolar Severe is neither Bipolar I or II. It is a bit beyond and yet also off to the side.”

I also came to the conclusion during my last appointment with her that her speech pattern is a tool yes, but it is utilized for different goals in my case.

She loves to go back to the topic of my frequent rambling and racing thoughts.

Her stop and go speaking forces me to stop and concentrate on what she is saying one word at a time and focus in the moment.

At the end of our time she gave me some homework.

  •  Go the library and borrow The Unquiet Mind.
  •  Call one of the two psychiatrists she recommend from Cigna’s list and make an appointment and then call her with the information. Appointment date, time, phone and fax.
  •  Call or see a leader and let them know what is going on and ask if they would like to see progress notes.

Now Disney is a unionized environment. Technically they are in no way supposed to know anything about what was going on. But I was secretly thankful she was pushing this. I needed them to understand. I wanted them to believe me and know I wasn’t just dancing away from having to work.

I chose the one manager I trusted and told her everything.

And I had made the right choice.

She asked if I wanted to come in Sunday. I would come in and we would just wing it.

If it became too much, I could stop. If I felt I could do more, we would try more.

I have written this post the night previous to this shift.

As a relief this is, I have already had a day of stomach pain and nausea. I am so nervous and scared.

But I got everything on that list done.

I’ll let you know how it goes!

So I Am Here

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At work. And it is hard. So hard.

I just had an attack shadowing someone during an online check in.
I am terrified. I don’t even have a reason but I am terrified and on the verge of tears.

I chose the right person for help. She came in when I was getting my update training and scolded Stuart for ‘overloading’ me on information. By that time I was actually talking to him about my situation and he was giving me advice. We know each other from speedway so I value his advice. But after that grace window, I was sent put on the desk and I did a good job of hiding it as always but as soon as it was over I practically ran to hide in the dark stock room.

I had my first thought of self harm. I have never ever, ever in my life actually considered harming myself.

At Disney there are button everywhere for every reason. Birthday, anniversary, first visit. Everything. And they are sharp.

I kept telling myself I have to focus, I gotta focus. If I focus I can get through this. And I saw the box with the bags of pins.

Like Aurora and the spindle of a spinning wheel.

But I did not.

As soon as the thought occurred horror took over.

The manager that is helping me sent me on a forty minute break demanding I get some protein in me.

And another person gave me a special k bar.

After that… Who knows?

This post was drafted from mobile device and is more than likely riddled with typos and grammatical errors. Please forgive and forget folks. If it is not too much of a bother, that is.

Cigna Dropped A Bomb

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A letter came in the mail from Cigna showing just how much the Dok-Tore has billed us.

Please remember that I have only seen this doctor four times and each visit is less than fifteen minutes.

You ready?

I don’t think you are.

$1,800.

For two visits. This is dated the 9th of April. $900 if split down the middle.

This is just wrong.

Where is the justice in that?

Edit: I have only had to pay a $20 copay at each appointment and that is entirely in thanks to my amazing insurance.

I have decided to go to the appointment on Wednesday just in case they try claiming they haven’t received any of my voice mails and charge me for the visit. Which I thought was only $250 – max.

I  going to sit down, with this letter in hand and tell him that he needs to convince me as to why I should continue to seek care from him and his team.

Because this is ridiculous.

This post was drafted from mobile device and is more than likely riddled with typos and grammatical errors. Please forgive and forget folks. If it is not too much of a bother, that is.

Called In Sick On Friday

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It was a bad day.

The night previous I had reached out to Dr Erlich’s team about the medical leave once again. David as usual answered and essentially placed on hold as he tracked down Lauren and got the stoey from her. But the story was a week and a half old. When I was first trying to trace down the paperwork and make sure it was getting faxed.

We had moved on from that nightmare to this one of regular medical leave as opposed to FMLA. At least I thought so.

After I told him what was really going on, I was plaved on hold again as Lauren was with the Dok-Tore and a patient.

“That’s fine. I appreciate your patience in all of this,” I said.

Well, I was on hold for exactly ten minutes that time. And it isn’t my OCD talking. Apparently their system has an “automated assistant” that kicks in after a caller is on hold for ten minutes.

This is the automated assistant. If you know your party’s extension please dial it now. If you are using a rotary phone, please remain om the line. Someone will be with you shortly.

Again and again, amd again. For another five minutes. Until I was told to leave a voicemail at the tone.

And I did.

“I thought I was on hold waiting to speak with Lauren but apparently not. I would greatly appreciate some attention. (Name and number) thank you and good bye.”

Every visit I am told to call if I need anything and someone would return my call within half an hour as they had a team exaftly for that purpose twenty-four/seven.

I never received a return phone call. Or the next day when I called at ten in the morning. Having exoerienced two panic attacks already before then.

Then two more between that voicemail and the one I left at three in the answer. Between trying to reach my psychiatrist I called my leaders and gave them a bare dressing of what was going on.

It is now four days after the initial voicemail and three days since I was forced to call in sick and receive a point on my record card.

I sought help so I would not continue to be penalized for my illness and so I could work without experiencing panic attacks before, during and after.

In my second voicemail I said I came to them for help and did not feel I was receiving this help.

Thus I called my insurance provider’s mental health line and requested a list of psychitrists within my area that soecialize in my diagnoses. There were about twenty four names on the list, both male and female and I was encouraged once to call them back if I still felt like it wasn’t a good fit.

The offer to file a claim against the office was put on the table but I just want to move on. I still need to decide whether or not I will be canceling the appointment for Wednesday.

If I do go, I hope I will have the strength and courage to stand up for myself and clearly state why I would be moving on.
And since my last appointment, I have been taking two benadryl tabs about an hour after taking the 400 mg of Seroquel and it takes care of the itching muscles/joints and congestion for the most part.

However they don’t even make me tired at all nowadays. Do I have some super resistance or something? That’s an annoying super power.

Anyways the last two days I have had a ton of energy. My mind is reeling and I cannot sit still. I was trying to read and multiole times every chapter I had to get up and pace the house and sometimes the yard. Today, I braided my hair and put on my fedora to cover my messy roots and bangs for my trip to JoAnns. I did try talking my mom into coming with me but she felt tired.

I probably did spend a lot more than I would have if someone was with me as I am more impulsive by myself. $14 was going to be my limit to get ten patterns but, everything was on sale!

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$3.99/yard!

I got four yards of this Spring time quilting weight cotton, hemp cord for braiding, buttons, zippers, patterns (of course) and some more pearlized pins. But I still need more interfacing. My roll of medical exam paper 21″ x 75 yards is either going to be here tomorrow or the day after.

Six patterns were chosen for me to start working on next. Peter pan color tops, a skirt, two dress batterns and a button blouse. I am hoping to finally make a full outfit that I can wear out. My two dresses have been so lonely for so long.

This post was drafted from mobile device and is more than likely riddled with typos and grammatical errors. Please forgive and forget folks. If it is not too much of a bother, that is.

My Sister Did Some Research

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Now she wants me to change doctors entirely.

My sister is nurse by the way. She asked around in the practise she works at and did more research online.

Her first question when she called me this morning was if they were doing blood work and watching my liver.

Uh… No?

They had me spit in a tube though.

That must mean something.

I did take a benadryl tab and it did help with the itching a lot. And I mean, a lot. Along with the congestion that had set in between taking the Seroquel and benadryl.

Does that mean I am allergic?

She wants me to call and demand either a change in medication or change doctors.

She wants both, really.

And I am holding myself back. I have called nearly every day. Well. Called on Tuesday. And had to call after hours yesterday about that medical leave nonsense. Lauren hasn’t called me about it and Health Services has yet to receive anything.

And my shift is tomorrow.

I don’t feel as if they have my best interests at heart.

I think I am going to try the meds through the weekend taking benadryl along side and on Monday call with my decision.

And if I have to call in tomorrow, well, that will just seal things.

This post was drafted from mobile device and is more than likely riddled with typos and grammatical errors. Please forgive and forget folks. If it is not too much of a bother, that is.

Am I Allergic To The Seroquel?

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I met the psychologist today.

And she is closing her practice in July.

It went well. Of course, it always goes back to the parents with them. She really focused on my mother.

She really, uh, has an interesting speaking rhythm. She will say a word or two, use a hand motion to communicate what she just said and then repeat herself and then finish her thought.

It kind of works against my mind as I think rapidly and usually am about four or five thoughts minimum ahead.

Over all the appointment went well and depending on what my provider allows, I may see her twice a week until her practice is closed.

The problems didn’t start until after I left her office. (I need a cool name for this doctor, like the Dok-Tore for my psychiatrist)

I called the Leave Administration team. It took a minute and a half for ‘Mary’ to tell I was denied, had no dream of qualifying for FMLA and hung up.

I have only worked 300~ hours in the last year.

Let’s revisit why that was.

From December 2012 – July 2013 I was waiting on Disney to get their act together and transfer me.

From September to now has been the “slow season” and I have only worked maybe 45 hours and that was when I also actively picking up hours that were not mine.

Dad is almost demanding I take this to HR.

I did my best to calm down after ‘Mary’ hung up on me and drove to the Dok-Tore’s office. I had a solid three hours between then and my appointment so sorry to anyone who was on the Osceola Parkway behind me. Cruise control and I were getting along.

I got to the Dok-Tore’s office with a solid two and a half hours to go. I tried sitting out in the car. Eating sunflower seeds and writing my journal which only had only twenty four pages til it was full and during those two and half hours (two of those sitting outside his office in the hallway) I filled each and every page.

Surprise, surprise during my five minute med check with the Dok-Tore, he decided to up the Seroquel, again. To 400 mg. Finally he had listened to me when I said I was not liking the Trazodone.

It only took two weeks.

When I met with the psychologist, she said I had Bipolar Severe.

No where in the internets could I find ‘Bipolar Severe’.

Is that I or II?

The way she made it sound sound like it was Bipolar I due to my frequent hallucinations. Or seeing in layers as I had always called it.

Seeing the reality of what was there and then what my nightmares showed me that came into daylight.

But the Dok-Tore said it was Bipolar II as Bipolar I is too rare.

Just like he believes my JRA (Junior Rheumatoid Arthritis) is. “That’s odd.”

Also, he had this girl sitting the office during my sit down with him. Once again, this person never introduced themselves.

So that is now two people whom have had some sort of interaction and never introduced themselves. I have one with attitude and a lurker.

Is this like the way things work with psychiatrists? You don’t know the name of these people but they know all your details?

Next time I am demanding to know who they are. I don’t think it is right.

On the issue about the FMLA, Lauren told me to ask “if them if I could go on medical leave” and then tell them if it was yes or no.

Hold on.

You want me to ask my boss if I could go on medical leave?

I am pretty sure that is not how this works. This isn’t like going on vacation.

So after my five minute med check with the psychiatrist, I went down stairs, picked up the new prescription for 400 mg Quetiapine (generic for Seroquel) and started the drive home.

I, of course as usual, called my parents in turn to update them.

The news that the Dok-Tore once again chose to just up the dosage as his cure all sent my mother for a loop.

Immediately, “I am calling Karen!”

I chose to call my sister Nancy, the nurse to get her take on this.

It even worried her a little. She wants me to stick to 300 mg and take a benadryl about am hour later. And if that takes if the joint/calf itching that always happens, it means I could very well be allergic to it.

What?

Really?

Of course I would be allergic to the magic cure all pill that is supposed to fix the crazy.

My next appointments are next Wednesday at 9 AM with the Dok-Tore and noon with the psychologist.

When I got home, I told Dad everything and many times he wanted me to go to HR about things I have experienced because of Disney. The seven month leave. The no call no show bull. But I am never very strong about confrontation.

But he is going to find the number for HR tomorrow and wants me to make an appointment when he can go with me.

And that leads us to here. I bought a weekly planner on the drove home at a Barnes and Noble and it helped me feel at least a little better. I always prefer penning down appointments and notes rather than on my phone. I keep forgetting to make my calendar events private and ooh, that bugs me.

It is a pretty lively light blue and starts in March which is perfect for me.

I kinda hope the benadryl helps with the itchy joint feeling after I take my Seroquel in a moment here, but I really don’t want to be allergic to it. Imagine all kinds of problems that is going to cause.

Plus hearing how “odd” it is.

This post was drafted from mobile device and is more than likely riddled with typos and grammatical errors. Please forgive and forget folks. If it is not too much of a bother, that is.