Oh Bring Me Some Piggy Pudding…

December 21, 2004 at 11:16 pm (Uncategorized)

That’s how Nate sings, “We Wish You A Merry Christmas.” I tried to tell him it was “figgy” pudding but he didn’t think it sounded as cool. Reality speaking, I think he captured the holiday. Happy Solstice my friends!!! Merry Meet!! I’m cleaning. Well, I was cleaning until I missed you guys and had to sit and blog. However, I don’t want to have a House That Jack Threw Up In. Talk about an incentive. Yikes!!! (It is, I’m happy to report, FAR from that.)

Again, I was going to tell you about what I want for Christmas. However, something else has been on my mind. Wait… oh, that was something else on my mind yesterday. I posted in Seven’s comments today what I wanted. And for you non-Cajuns, that’s Sayven, soft “n”, almost nasal, like bien. Anyway, now there’s something new on my mind today. I wrote this letter to my family doctor and I wondered if you guys could give me your opinion.

Dear Dr. B.:

So sorry to bother you yet again with my problems, after all, you’re just my physician, why should you care? I mean, since December 1st you have been faxed two letters and have received a phone call from me answered by your darling staff or your answering machine, or a multitude of answering machines, almost every other day. And how wonderful that you keep me from getting bored by not having the same person answer the phone each time.

In the past three weeks, I have valiantly tried to get you to a) prescribe medication which my psychologist says I need to try and 2) then have you or your staff get this prescription pre-authorized by my insurance so I’m not paying $100 for 30 freakin’ pills. Did I mention I don’t have a hundred dollars? Didn’t it mean anything to you that I was thoughtful enough to call the insurance myself, get a case file set up, call you with the phone number, the case number, the diagnosis code from my psychologist’s office, AND have my insurance fax you a list of questions that they would need answered? I guess not because I STILL DON’T HAVE ANY FUCKING MEDICATION!!

Now, here’s the long and the short of it. Maybe you don’t believe in Adult ADD/ADHD and that’s why you’re reluctant to assist me. Why don’t you call my Mama? Better yet, call my psychologist. Yes, its true that he doesn’t know if I’m simply an ADDer or psychotic, but wouldn’t you rather operate under the assumption that I’m ADD and if you give me this medication to try then I won’t BE PSYCHOTIC?? Furthermore, you know those cute little self-tests they give you to at least give you an idea if you’re ADD? Well, 25 is considered the bottom most score for severe. I scored 40. This is exactly the reason why I haven’t called your office EVERYDAY… because I got distracted. It certainly isn’t because I’m NICE.

Perhaps though, its just the fact you have an asinine office staff who need a good ass chewing for not responding promptly to my concerns. Now, I don’t expect them to kiss my ass, or, at least I didn’t, that’s all changed now you see because if my ADD psychotic ass can remember to call YOUR office amongst all the work that I’m NOT getting done, surely a member of your stellar staff could do the same. Maybe THEY’RE the ones who need the medication.

Now, if you had any concerns at all about prescribing this medication or getting this medication authorized through my insurance then I would expect one of the following things to happen: 1) You would consult with me by phone; 2) You would ask that I come to your office to consult with me or 3) You would consult with my psychologist. Since my psychologist’s office actually answers the phone and knows whether or not you freaks have contacted them by phone or fax or snail mail, my guess is, number three hasn’t occurred. Since I’m all up in arms and pissy, yeah, numbers one and two haven’t occurred either.

I’ve heard some wonderful things about this medication. While no medicine is 100% effective in curing what ails us, I would like the opportunity to see if perhaps I would be compelled to actually pick up shit around my house instead of just staring at it, confused and bewildered as where I should start. Perhaps I wouldn’t spend the days before Christmas cleaning out six months worth of sale papers and collection notices from under the couch, or actually washing ALL of the dishes instead of just what I can get by with, or actually being able to put clothes up in the closet in and in the dresser when I finish washing them instead of leaving them stacked on the dryer or in a basket, hell, maybe I would find the gumption to WASH the fucking clothes more often and a full load, that would nice, instead of just throwing in a pair of this and a pair of that to “get us through.”

Perhaps it doesn’t matter to you what effect this has on my self-esteem. Perhaps it doesn’t matter to you that I’ve been called do-less and lazy my entire life. Perhaps it doesn’t matter to you that IF this medication works, I’m still faced with re-learning better habits. IF this medication works I have over an intense month of work ahead of me with writing lists and forcing myself to budget my time better so my house will be clean and I’ll still have the time to do the things that keep me sane, like blogging and beading. And let’s not fail to mention what a positive effect a much more organized mother would have on my ADHD child. And lo and behold I may actually make a budget and stick to it so I’m not biting my nails four days before Christmas praying for a bonus.

So, what exactly is the fucking problem? Do you even KNOW there’s a problem? Well, if this letter actually made it to you instead of one of your highly evolved ass monkeys trashing it, then you do now. I know I’ve been sarcastic and rude and I’ve not used very nice language. It happens to us ADDers, its IMPULSIVE BEHAVIOR, you know when we interrupt and finish your sentences and otherwise do and say things that other people find inappropriate. *pause* So, if you don’t want inappropriate letters, and your staff trashed and called ass monkeys, then have someone get off their lazy “piggy pudding” ass and provide the information to the insurance company.

You are impeding my progress. Either get on board or get out of the way, because I’M COMING THROUGH.

Verrrrry truuuuuly YOURS!

“The!” Nanner

So, wonderful bloggy pudding pals… what say you?

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