The Joys of Going Through County

Discussion in 'Braaaaiiiinnnns...' started by Lazarae, Sep 20, 2015.

  1. Lazarae

    Lazarae The tide pod of art

    So when I moved back out to CA I was mostly untreated for almost two years because my insurance didn't cover mental health and CA is is stupid expensive especially wrt brainweird. So as soon as I got disability and the associated insurance the first thing we did was go to county mental health because they take any insurance and I went to them before I moved away and things were pretty good.

    Problem is the psychiatrist I saw retired right around the time I moved and they still, three years later, had yet to find a new permanent psych. But it's government so they don't get paid as well as freelance psychiatrists, which we can't afford, SO. Just before I came back they got a woman in who they told me would only be there for a few months before they got another temp.

    She's completely incompetent. Psych appointments shoot my anxiety through the roof like being locked in a small room full of people I don't know because I hate dealing with her. It took three appointments (two months apart each) to get her to change the medication I asked her to the first time. She's always late and keeps us late because she doesn't listen to anything we say and keeps repeating the same questions and forgetting our answers. She's technologically illiterate, has been there two years, and still can't figure out the system they use. Very nearly every appointment we've had with her she's called tech support for the same thing. I could show her how to do it at this point, and the monitor's always positioned so I can't even see the screen. She's horrible. I complained to my case worker and apparently everyone she sees complains about her. I got in an argument (legit argument, not a disagreement, I had straight-up Lost My Cool which is not usually a thing that happens in public) over finding an anxiety med that wasn't Xanax I could take daily to avoid having freakouts instead of just trying to make them not suck so bad. I have liver issues, which she was constantly forgetting despite my bringing it up constantly. She had the fucking gall to tell me if I didn't want to cooperate I should find another psychiatrist. My answer: "I didn't know that was an option!" Nothing got changed that day, natch.

    Then there was a new guy! He was cool! He listened to me! He understood why I wanted the change I wanted! He didn't change my anxiety med, but he told me why and it was a good enough answer to hold me for now, and there was also the promise to discuss it more in depth the next time since he tweaked some of my other meds that would maybe help. He actually looked at my symptoms, both the report when I first went there and recent shifts. It was amazing. If I did physical contact I would have fucking hugged him. My caseworker said most people liked him (especially after the previous) and he was almost certainly going to stick around.

    So I went in again a few weeks ago and actually felt pretty ok about it- much less stress. And got a pit in my stomach when the receptionist referred to the psychiatrist as "her" and was, sadly, right. She was back. It was a very short appointment because I did not want to work with her, I told her as much, and that I was doing well enough I didn't want to make any changes, and she still held us up for a few minutes making small talk despite the fact I was climbing the walls wanting to get out of there. We're hoping New Guy just couldn't make it and she filled in for him. I don't want her to be back.

    That's not the worst part though! The worst part is, since we didn't change anything, she didn't even look at my current meds. Worse, since she didn't look at my meds she didn't renew any of my scripts. The only reason we found out before I ran out of something completely was because the guy filling in for my out-of-town case manager got a fax from the pharmacy saying I didn't have any refills and called us to see what was up. He called the pharmacy to get everything fixed but it took two days for county, the pharmacy, and my grandma to get their collective shit together and fix things. So I'm currently half-medicated, which is better than unmedicated, and I now have the meds required I just can't take them without royally fucking my sleep schedule.

    So: fuck the situation that made her stay, fuck her particularly, and I hope she gets a nasty set of boils on her ass for the rest of her life that makes sitting down highly uncomfortable.
    • Like x 3
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