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When last I had a chance to leave the prison that is bedrest, I mentioned having a follow up appointment on last Wednesday re: Leg Cootie of Doom.
They did not schedule another follow up.
Or so I thought.
Then I got a random automated phone call Thursday afternoon, letting me know I had an appointment this morning, but it did not tell me who with.
Of course, that appointment time was right around the same time every soldier in the area tries to file through the base gates in their vehicles AND very close to the time that Masters Tournament (held very close to base) opens its doors to all those golf obsessed lookie-loos (seriously, this town is crazy packed with tourists this week) - so I did the only thing I could think of and left my house two hours early.
I got to meet a brand new doctor today. This will be doctor number four who has looked at my leg in horror in the last two weeks. In theory, this doctor will be my Primary Care doctor. Knock on wood. Unfortunately, since the computer system the doctors use still lists me as Captain's second wife AND ALSO MALE, they can't make any notes on my file until it is fixed, so she had to take my uneducated word on what the last three doctors said and if I thought my cootie was getting better.
I think so?
However, my antibiotics were set to run out in just a few days and the cootie, while marginally less evil, was still holding strong, so New Doctor added another, short, round of meds.
Then she order blood work Number Four and some other stuff to check and see if I've managed to catch a secondary infection caused by... dun dun dunnnnn... my antibiotics.
You know? I just can not win.
The blood draw was surprisingly non-traumatic for once. I was a bit nervous when I sat down and did my standard "I'm a difficult stick" spiel and the dude told me he was still learning, but his teacher was right there and would fix it if something bad happened. Confidence totally inspired, let me tell you. Then both of them noticed the plethora of bruises in various shades all over both of my arms, and there was some shared wincing.
Anywho, the kicker of the day was when I went to get my additional five days of both antibiotics (and something for nausea, because all this ripping my insides to shreds) and the pharmacist assistant person plops down one pill bottle and tries to wave me away. She tried to argue with me about the second prescription, told me the doctor put it in the system under the In Patient so she couldn't give it to me, and besides I never picked up the first prescription for it in the first place. So I pulled the bottle I got on Tuesday out of my knitting bag and was all "You mean this one?"
Then she tried to tell me I didn't need both antibiotics anyway, I only needed one.
Excuse me? Pharmacy Assistant vs an ER doctor, her supervisor, a GP and New Doctor who all say I do. Who am I going to believe?
Do your job and gimme my damn pills. I'm not going to sell Septra on the black market. No one would by it, it tastes like crap and makes your tummy hurt.
AND, she tried to weasel out of giving me my anti-barf meds too!
So, I've got an additional five days of antibiotics added to the first 10 days, and at least one or two more weeks of bedrest ahead of me.
Oh, and possibly a secondary infection from the meds to treat the first infection.
tl;dr - Traffic sucks, new doctor again, yet another blood draw with newbie tech, more meds, more bedrest, and a fight with a pharmacist type person.
They did not schedule another follow up.
Or so I thought.
Then I got a random automated phone call Thursday afternoon, letting me know I had an appointment this morning, but it did not tell me who with.
Of course, that appointment time was right around the same time every soldier in the area tries to file through the base gates in their vehicles AND very close to the time that Masters Tournament (held very close to base) opens its doors to all those golf obsessed lookie-loos (seriously, this town is crazy packed with tourists this week) - so I did the only thing I could think of and left my house two hours early.
I got to meet a brand new doctor today. This will be doctor number four who has looked at my leg in horror in the last two weeks. In theory, this doctor will be my Primary Care doctor. Knock on wood. Unfortunately, since the computer system the doctors use still lists me as Captain's second wife AND ALSO MALE, they can't make any notes on my file until it is fixed, so she had to take my uneducated word on what the last three doctors said and if I thought my cootie was getting better.
I think so?
However, my antibiotics were set to run out in just a few days and the cootie, while marginally less evil, was still holding strong, so New Doctor added another, short, round of meds.
Then she order blood work Number Four and some other stuff to check and see if I've managed to catch a secondary infection caused by... dun dun dunnnnn... my antibiotics.
You know? I just can not win.
The blood draw was surprisingly non-traumatic for once. I was a bit nervous when I sat down and did my standard "I'm a difficult stick" spiel and the dude told me he was still learning, but his teacher was right there and would fix it if something bad happened. Confidence totally inspired, let me tell you. Then both of them noticed the plethora of bruises in various shades all over both of my arms, and there was some shared wincing.
Anywho, the kicker of the day was when I went to get my additional five days of both antibiotics (and something for nausea, because all this ripping my insides to shreds) and the pharmacist assistant person plops down one pill bottle and tries to wave me away. She tried to argue with me about the second prescription, told me the doctor put it in the system under the In Patient so she couldn't give it to me, and besides I never picked up the first prescription for it in the first place. So I pulled the bottle I got on Tuesday out of my knitting bag and was all "You mean this one?"
Then she tried to tell me I didn't need both antibiotics anyway, I only needed one.
Excuse me? Pharmacy Assistant vs an ER doctor, her supervisor, a GP and New Doctor who all say I do. Who am I going to believe?
Do your job and gimme my damn pills. I'm not going to sell Septra on the black market. No one would by it, it tastes like crap and makes your tummy hurt.
AND, she tried to weasel out of giving me my anti-barf meds too!
So, I've got an additional five days of antibiotics added to the first 10 days, and at least one or two more weeks of bedrest ahead of me.
Oh, and possibly a secondary infection from the meds to treat the first infection.
tl;dr - Traffic sucks, new doctor again, yet another blood draw with newbie tech, more meds, more bedrest, and a fight with a pharmacist type person.
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