The Day I Nearly Lost My Shit

It has been awhile since I felt a complete overpowering inferno of anger consume my soul.

Yesterday was that day.

Last month, armed with my new health insurance, I met with my new doctor to get a refill on my anti-depressants. Same ones I've taken for the past three years, they work great and I cannot imagine not having them.

My new insurance declared that I had to try the generic of my drug. Either try the generic, they said, or pay full-price for the one you are on. ($260/month vs. $30/month) Obviously, since I am fully in charge of my own health care (insert sarcasm here), I took the generic.

On the generic, I had the following side effects: insomnia, heart palpitations (for hours, all day long), constipation and, perhaps worst of all, I felt like it wasn't treating my depression. I wanted to lie in bed all day every day, much like I felt when I wasn't on my happy pills.

So I contact my Dr., am told to get off the generics and they would re-order the brand name, now miraculously (insert sarcasm again) covered by the same assweasels that wouldn't cover it before.

Four doctor's visits in one month (copay at $20 each time). Like I have that kind of time in my existence.

A few days after going of the wonderful generic, I'm still having palpitations. Imagine sitting in your chair at work, calmly typing, when your heart starts to race like you are running over 6.0 miles per hour on a treadmill. This is what I've been going through. It feels like my heart is coming out of my chest.

Another Dr.'s visit ... and sometime this next week, I'll be put on a 24 hour heart monitor to ensure that no "real" damage has been done to my heart.

****

Then, after all that fun and games at the Dr's office, I had a vet appointment for my cat, Caesar.

Caesar, last year, had a bout of spraying in the house. This caused untold heartache and problems for me. He was diagnosed with having a UTI, plus some anxiety b/c he misses me when I am gone. Yes, happy drugs abound at my house. Cleo is the only one not on them and probably she ought to be.

Well, all has been fine here. Seriously, good times for everyone, all kitties adjusted appropriately. Two weeks ago, I called the apt. office because I had ants in my house. After they told me that it would be two weeks before they could get it sprayed, I went to Target, bought some stuff and eliminated the ants. All good, right?

Wrong.

Last week, the bug spray guy comes to my house during the day. He was supposed to come today ... not last week. So I don't put up the cats because I don't know he is coming and when I get home, it is obvious that kitty has sprayed somewhere. Caesar is nothing if not territorial of being the only boy in the house.

As a precautionary measure, I schedule an appointment at Banfield, the vet office at Petsmart, to have him checked out. I called Monday, got an appointment for Wednesday (yesterday) at 4. Since I've taken the cats to Banfield in Indy since, well, forever, I thought I knew what I was getting into.

How Wrong I Was.

I run home at 3:30, collect the cat, and get to Banfield by 3:55. Fill out some paperwork, get the cat weighed and am in the exam room by 4:05.

I wait. I wait. I wait some more.

At 5:00, after still not being seen, I collect Caesar, put him back in his cage, and open the exam door and walk out. This action now causes a stir at Banfield. Bad customer service, no stir. Person leaving with their pet before exam completed, big stir. No "we are sorry" just "oh, you are leaving."

I put the cat carrier in a cart and proceed toward the cat food/toys area as I have a few things I need to pick up. This poor, unfortunate Petsmart employee walks by me and apparently does not see the stormcloud brewing above my head as he greets me with "how are you doing today?"

I reply, tersely, attempting not to use all the profanity I have bottled up, "Not good, thanks."

I keep walking, now with purpose, to the cat area. It is there that a Petsmart manager greets me, apparently having been tipped off by the employee I encountered only moments before. He asks if everything is okay. I tell him that no, everything is not okay, I have waited an hour for an appointment to have my cat seen, after making the appointment for 4 p.m. it is now 5:15 p.m. and I have a cat that needs to be seen and a vet clinic that is unresponsive, at best. He then asks the near fatal question: "Is there anything I can do for you?"

What I wanted to say is: FUCK NO, THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO FOR ME, UNLESS YOU ARE WILLING TO FIGURE OUT WHY THE FUCK ANYONE MAKES AN APPOINTMENT AT THE VET HERE IF THE WAIT IS AT LEAST AN HOUR WITH ABSOLUTELY NO EXPLANATION. FUCK THIS SHIT, FUCK THIS STORE AND FUCK YOU.

But I did not. What I said was: "No, I am done with this place for today. I am buying what I have in my hand and going home. All I want is to go home."

So I buy my stuff, all the while noticing some conversations taking place by the vet clinic that are obviously about me. It was all I could do not to flip the whole place the bird.

I get into the car, start the ugly cry process and in the middle of that, my friend from work calls to ask me out for a drink. Thank God for C, she was my lifesaver yesterday.

****
After this delightful little incident at Petsmart, I drove down the street by my house where I had seen a vet before and lo and behold, they were open. After explaining myself and my needs, Caesar now has an appointment for today at 4 p.m. They were much nicer to me. Thank God.