All great things must come to an end.
A few years ago, Dr. Lowrey stopped prescribing an anti-inflamatory that I've been taking a few times a year since 1996. It is quite literally the only thing that counters my rich man's disease, AKA The Gout. He began prescribing this weak shit called Meloxicam, which couldn't reduce swelling in a gnat's elbow. After repeated complaints, he gave me the option of another drug I took in 95, but my insurance does not cover it, and my out-of-pocket cost is $200 for 10 days. Yeah, no. So my only other option for an acute gout attack today was to come in for a shot. Because I have to work, I could not make it in. When trying to see if I could get in tomorrow, the lady on the phone (Michelle) shamed me for not being able to come in. "Yeah, I'm so sorry. I told you that you should have came in today, so there is nothing we can do unless someone cancels tomorrow." Well, gee whiz. Thank you medical provider for leaving me hanging during an episode. Too much to ask for a prescription for the shit that actually works, huh? The kickback from whoever owns Meloxicam must be insane.
Needless to say, I have an appointment with a new podiatrist Monday morning. Thank goodness the gout is heredity and I was able to borrow a few anti-inflamatory pills from a relative, otherwise I would have needed to go to the ER. So get ready to fax over them records to my new Doctor, chumps. read more