Metaphor of the day: fitness.
I did some math and for the past two (business, because nobody’s open on the weekend) weeks, I’ve been on the phone for an average of 40 minutes a day trying to get that damn medicine I spoke of in my last post. Probably longer since I’m not including the random phone calls I took on my home phone or the calls made earlier in the month of November.
I spoke with state offices, local offices, several doctors offices, a random specialty pharmacy in Michigan, my own specialty pharmacy, my insurance, and my insurance’s pharmacy benefit manager (which I had no idea was a thing before all of this).
Also, I now know over a dozen people among these entities by name, and I’m sure they know me as well. I’d like to think I was polite throughout this whole thing. Persistent and pestering, completely, but polite (and towards the end, slightly pitiful and a bit dejected – but when you constantly inform me it’s going to be “another 24 to 48 hours” for minor info verifications, I have no regrets for inducing some minor guilt).
My new best friend turned out to be “Tim” from my insurance’s pharmacy benefit manager (PBM) on Thursday night. As I said, I had never heard of a PBM prior to this whole mess, but positive, I know more about our shit-tastic healthcare system?
Anyways, I caught Tim twenty minutes before he was supposed to leave work (sorry) and spent a solid half hour on the phone with him as he set up a three-way call with the pharmacy and proved that this whole comedy of errors was on said pharmacy’s end (which took about 22 of the 30 minutes, plus multiple holds, me nodding off, some jokes from Tim, and crappy elevator music).
Eventually: “OK, so it actually was something we had in our system.” *facepalm*
Pharmacy then launches into setting up my order, but forgets to disconnect Tim first, who has done his part and I’m 100% sure does not care to be a part of this, but if he hangs up, there goes my order (el oh el). I apologized after the pharmacy hung up that he got stuck with that, but he said it was worth it and I proceeded to thank him more profusely (going to be sending a note of some sort to this place as well) than may have been necessary. Lastly, I’m not positive his name was Tim… I’d been without my meds for a full week at this point, and since I only spoke with him once, instead of the 5 or 6 times I had with David, Sherry, LaToya (sp?), Jenny, and whoever else, I feel this is forgivable. Sorry again Tim/Tom(?)/Jim(?)/Christopher(?).
After over 6 broken hours on the phone this past two weeks, and threats from my mom to call any of the places I listed above to literally just yell at them, my medicine arrived yesterday.
So what’s fitness have to do with the diatribe above?
I slept heavenly last night. It was fabulous, rejuvenating, restful – just what I needed.
And I feel like absolute shit this morning.
Because I (again) know how tired I am. If I haven’t run/worked out in a while, and I just wing a 40 minute workout or 3 – 4 mile run, it might feel good at the moment, but later that day or the next, reality will very quickly set in and I will not want to do anything physical for a week.
This is the same thing; I have to get my sleep muscles back. It may have been less than 10 days, but if you were significantly overweight and had been exercising/eating right the past 6 months, you might have only lost 20-30 pounds. You start feeling better, but stop for two weeks and it’s just as difficult starting back as it was the first time. Give it a few days and it’ll get better though – you’ll remember, and you’ll keep going.
And that’s where I’m at. I may be physically exhausted, uncoordinated and cognitively slower than normal, but I am happy. Content in my fatigue for the time being, because as long as I put the time in, my body will remember here in a few days, and I’ll be ready for the next thing.