4th Dec 2018 06:54pm
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[Day 58] I Almost Broke

What a day. Not a good day. Not in the slightest.

I thought yesterdays blip in my mood would have gone, but today has just added more fuel to that.

I attended my midday appointment with the health person to answer a few questions regarding my general health, had my blood pressure taken and was breath analysed - the reading was 0mg (obviously because I have not drank for 58 days).

That whole appointment lasted barely 15 minutes. I had to pay £4.80 to get the bus to travel 6 miles for a 15 minute appointment. I asked about my medication, because once again everything is all dicked up with regards to my Acamprosate and Antabuse prescriptions and the GP.

Them: We can't prescribe it for you, your doctor will need to do that.

Me: My doctor won't prescribe it until you've said so.

Them: We need information from the medical person.

Me: My original place has sent it all over weeks ago.

Them: We don't have anything.

Me: ...

Them: Let me check your notes. We've been in contact and the GP should have been sent something.

Me: *calls GP*

GP: No we don't have anything.

Me: *calls Medic*

Medic: Everything was sent over to them and shouldn't be anything to do with us now as you're in their hands.

Me: *calls GP*

GP: Get the medic to send the stuff again.

Me: *messages Medic to send everything over (again)*

Stressed and pissed off isn't the word. The same stuff happened last week and the week before. Why does this keep happening week after week? Why on Earth isn't the transferring process of this from one place to the other not just simple? Jeez, then to continue with stuff the carrier bag I was carrying was heavy and ripping into my fingers. Something was murdering my phone battery. Trying to navigate on foot through the town centre proved to be a challenge in itself with its clusters of uncontrolled kids, pushchairs and mobility scooters, people suddenly just stopping and blocking aisles and pavements, all the shops were incredibly busy, queues were forming here-there-and-everywhere and people just didn't seem to have an ounce of queuing etiquette. Did I mention kids? Little shit-clusters picking everything up from the shelves, bashing into me with their stuff shouting at their Mothers "I want this, I want this", the Mothers responding "No, now put it back" to which the kids refuse to do so, then start screaming more and grabbing more items. Look luv, your child needs a stern telling off or a bloody good hidin' and taught that "No means NO!", oh and whilst you're at it, you might want to actually spend more time acknowledging what your brat is doing instead of scrolling through what Tracey down-the-road has liked and shared on Facebook. LEARN. TO. PARENT.

Anger has never been my thing. Today I felt it starting to enter. I continued walking, this time up quieter street and walkways. A tear shyly rolled down my cold cheek.

I need a drink. Balls to the Antabuse going through my system, if I end up in severe pain or hospitalised, so be it.

I conveniently passed a pub, but they didn't look the type that would accept card (or even acknowledge what plastic was), so I went on a hunt for a cash point. Found a cash point. Got money out. Started to walk back to that pub, when I got a message from the medic to say he's resent all the stuff and received confirmation from the GPs that the information had been received. I called the GP to confirm myself.

GP: We don't give confirmation and we haven't received anything.

Me: *tear quietly rolls down my cheek*

GP: Hold the line a second.

*hold music* (¬_¬)

GP: Oh it's just arrived in the medics box. I can't tell you when it will be seen [either today or tomorrow], but it does mention on there that you run out of medication tomorrow. If you've heard nothing from us later on, then call up and ask in the morning at 8am.

In that instant, upon hearing they had received something, my mood lifted a bit more. The urge for that drink, gone. My mouth was still dry though, so I still went in the place and ordered a pint of Pepsi which ended up being flatter than a witches tit and costing me £3.20, "sugar tax that is", said the barman, I didn't respond, I just took my change and found a seat, drank my drink (had to speed it up though, because something in that place was setting my Antabuse off) then headed home.

What a day. Ugh. Breathe, Dale. Breathe.

 

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Comments

4th Dec 2018 20:34

Don’t give up!
Don’t give in!

By Shane

 

4th Dec 2018 21:11

Shops will be a nightmare till Christmas.Avoid when possible when you are stressed.
Have you asked if you can get an anti anxiety medication.
Try to think that things will be better tomorrow or even the day after.
Don't underestimate yourself.Remember how far you have come.x

By Mark Christopher Farrell

 

6th Dec 2018 22:14

Keep going, your doing so well.

By Richard

 

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