My evening:
* The neurologist denies any link between Topamax and kidney stones despite it being disseminated through the medical information on the leaflet in the medication box. But was kind enough to refer me for an ultrasound.
* I have a kidney stone. I knew it. I've been aching for days It's only 3.6mm. My last one was 1.8cm.
* The first hospital pharmacy don't have my prescription. But Scientific pharmacy in al Khoud should do and will honour my insurance.
* Finally found it but it is shut as its prayer time. Wait 20 minutes. They don't have it. Badr al Samaa do and should honour my insurance.
* Starting to get twitchy now. My battery is very low. GPS and 3G is not working. I get lost. Majorly lost. Never been to Maballeh. At least it was the right end of town.
* Strangely and bizarrely and somehow will never know how, I pop out next to the road that leads to Badr al Samaa, so I make my way there.
* The Pharmacy assistant looks at my forms. Talks to his colleague. I need a doctor's stamp and a hospital stamp actually on the insurance form. I've been in and out of hospital these last few months and in and out of pharmacies and have never been asked for a stamp on that form.
* For the first time in my adult life, as far as I can remember, I make a scene. I raise my voice. I shout. I recount my whole evening to the poor assistant (although at that moment in time he is not poor in my eyes; he is doing this on purpose to tease this expat woman and wind me up). I snatch the form from his hand, wordless, and storm from the pharmacy. I even manage to slam the door open on my way out. I am seething. I am sobbing.
* At least I am not lost now but I still sob all the way home. Angry and embarrassed.
* I manage to calm myself down. I am concerned that I may not get the medication for some time, I don't want to be off it, for it to come out of my system and for me to have to go through the struggle of getting used to it again.
Next morning:
* Form stamped by Starcare.
* Enough time to get to Badr al Samaa before work. And chances are the staff last night won't be on shift.
* Two lovely ladies are behind the counter. Yes. I can avoid further embarrassment.
* I have to get get my file number from the front desk before she can do anything. Oh FFS.
* But I manage to avoid the queues and nip to the billing man and he kindly helps me.
* Back to the pharmacy. A voice on my left.."So you went back to the hospital last night then to get the stamp?" O. M. G. At least it's just one of the staff from last night.
* No, of course it's not. This is me you're reading about. I walk in and number one who spoke to me goes and joins his two colleagues behind the counter so all three of them are standing there. I apologise profusely and I'm not sure but the one I spoke to last night either does not speak a lot of English or he really is pissed off with me.
* The lady gives me my prescription and I'm done. I give a final big apologetic smile as I leave and he stands up and returns it.
I think I'm OK now. Really, was all that necessary....?
Mantra for last night should have been 'This too shall pass'.
Much like my kidney stone, I hope.
* The neurologist denies any link between Topamax and kidney stones despite it being disseminated through the medical information on the leaflet in the medication box. But was kind enough to refer me for an ultrasound.
* I have a kidney stone. I knew it. I've been aching for days It's only 3.6mm. My last one was 1.8cm.
* The first hospital pharmacy don't have my prescription. But Scientific pharmacy in al Khoud should do and will honour my insurance.
* Finally found it but it is shut as its prayer time. Wait 20 minutes. They don't have it. Badr al Samaa do and should honour my insurance.
* Starting to get twitchy now. My battery is very low. GPS and 3G is not working. I get lost. Majorly lost. Never been to Maballeh. At least it was the right end of town.
* Strangely and bizarrely and somehow will never know how, I pop out next to the road that leads to Badr al Samaa, so I make my way there.
* The Pharmacy assistant looks at my forms. Talks to his colleague. I need a doctor's stamp and a hospital stamp actually on the insurance form. I've been in and out of hospital these last few months and in and out of pharmacies and have never been asked for a stamp on that form.
* For the first time in my adult life, as far as I can remember, I make a scene. I raise my voice. I shout. I recount my whole evening to the poor assistant (although at that moment in time he is not poor in my eyes; he is doing this on purpose to tease this expat woman and wind me up). I snatch the form from his hand, wordless, and storm from the pharmacy. I even manage to slam the door open on my way out. I am seething. I am sobbing.
* At least I am not lost now but I still sob all the way home. Angry and embarrassed.
* I manage to calm myself down. I am concerned that I may not get the medication for some time, I don't want to be off it, for it to come out of my system and for me to have to go through the struggle of getting used to it again.
Next morning:
* Form stamped by Starcare.
* Enough time to get to Badr al Samaa before work. And chances are the staff last night won't be on shift.
* Two lovely ladies are behind the counter. Yes. I can avoid further embarrassment.
* I have to get get my file number from the front desk before she can do anything. Oh FFS.
* But I manage to avoid the queues and nip to the billing man and he kindly helps me.
* Back to the pharmacy. A voice on my left.."So you went back to the hospital last night then to get the stamp?" O. M. G. At least it's just one of the staff from last night.
* No, of course it's not. This is me you're reading about. I walk in and number one who spoke to me goes and joins his two colleagues behind the counter so all three of them are standing there. I apologise profusely and I'm not sure but the one I spoke to last night either does not speak a lot of English or he really is pissed off with me.
* The lady gives me my prescription and I'm done. I give a final big apologetic smile as I leave and he stands up and returns it.
I think I'm OK now. Really, was all that necessary....?
Mantra for last night should have been 'This too shall pass'.
Much like my kidney stone, I hope.
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