Today should have probably been quite nice from the start, but small things keep on happening. I hope that just means that the rest of it’s going to be great.
…I say “small things,” but really some of them were a bit mountainous. This morning Owen scratched my eye–the cornea–and that was relatively small, though I certainly didn’t think so at the time. A few hours later, we went to the pharmacy to pick up the enbrel (at bloody last), only to find that our insurance did not cover enough of it.
That was a big deal, and a lot of it’s my fault. No matter how I glare at the stupid medical assistant (or whatever she is). I should have signed up for Enbrel Support weeks ago, and had my card ready. With it, we would not have had to pay for the medication because ES helps people like me. The only thing I can say in my defence is that the medication took so long to go from “You’re cleared” to “Pick it up” that I grew into a misunderstanding regarding ES. Everything has come to depend on my waiting for this bloody medicine. Including something that was supposed to come first.
So… over $800. Not something one wants to pay once a month.
Like an idiot, I paid it, too stunned to do anything else, and well aware that I see my rheumatologist tomorrow. No time even for that stupid nurse’s visit I was supposed to have last week. Then I went about damage control.
I signed up for ES, and found it to be completely painless. Almost scary in its ease. They even provided a temporary card since I had lost the one in the brochure. Lost the brochure, too. Sigh. Anyway, we went back with the printed-out temp card and the very nice pharmacist worked around some other problems and basically refunded the money spent and re-billed the medication with my ES information.
Oh yeah, and today should have been good because it’s our anniversary. I forget which one, we’re soul mates so we were born married to each other. <3 My mum is babysitting Owen–she took him to her house a few hours ago, early so that she wouldn’t have to drive from one city to another. I thought I might like the time to myself, but other than being so relieved that I passed out on the couch, I’ve mostly just felt separation anxiety. I am such a dork.
Things will pick up. I want to believe that once I see my rheumy and learn how to inject the enbrel, I’ll feel better. Right now, I just kind of feel like weeping, between being on the edge of relief and the aforementioned separation anxiety. I also can’t breathe, since my cricoarytenoid is swollen.