Sort of. Ish. Taken some, possibly the pills, powders and potions were all done on the rx for some others thought the sudden desire to go back to the docs surgery and start deprotonating receptionists, starting at the little toes, and gradually lowering them deeper also applied to IT and as such panicked a bit and did one the receptionist and maaaayyybe Well, at least, getting in the beginning of aforementioned process.
If it wasn't for the soothing balm provided mother gaia provideth in the form of those 'lil natural nitrogenous bundles of goodness, allies most firm with carbon and oygen being so generously afforded a spacious home in those all inclusive Papaver somniferum, such fine beginning points for oxycodone I would be totally irresponsible for a tragic accident involving flesh eating driver ants, some concrete, a diaper, a drainpipe, several tubes of superglue, a can of lighter fuel and a microwave alongside certain neurotypical individuals.
What gives one might wonder? and 'the fuck indeed, gives?
I don't sleep. I can't sleep, for I A-have completely squirrely sleep patterns, unpredictable as shit, always have, always will I'm sure. I have insomnia and they didn't give me my fucking tranks/anti seizure meds. None of em, not a single capsule. Nor any clonidine. OR sedating antihistamine...although thankfully a days worth of my muscle relaxer, tizanidine, pretty fucking similar to clonidine. Need to stop my hands from shaking whilst I'm trying to give myself what should be my morning 'bucket of cold water over the person, fried peppery chilli and soy sauce and worcester&brown sauce marinaded, fly agaric seasoned (essential spice for cooking meat dishes IMO but it cannot be purchased as a spice, only a shamanic/head shop type product online etc. and it MUST be prepared correctly to render it non-poisonous and psychotropic....easily done, but important. Although it seens to put others off using it for some odd reason...it can turn a tasty beef stew into something that would tempt me to keep chewing my way through first the plate and then potentially also the table scrumthebollocksingmotherfuckumptious) fillet steak and icy cold mug of ale and morning wakey-wakey rise'n'shine enlivening warm, comfy, relaxing but big deep pressure squeeze from one hot as fuck kanner's porn-megastar (that the world is so desparately in need of!...c'mon theres gotta be some foxy classic girls on I2 with thoughts of porn modeldom?
??
)
my customary shot of a pair of OC 80s.
Docs surgery opens half 8 in the morning, no earlier, no later. I pick(ed) all my various scripts and thusly meds, up on monday, every monday, failing something like a bank holiday.
So......what does this tired, cranky, sleepdeprived, desparately hungry and thirsty autie find when he turns up.
The previous monday had been a bank holiday so was let know to come in and get a rx for one days stash of rx meds basically; and then in the meantime without discussing with me, and whats more seeking my permission, but not to even fucking TELL me about it. decide to PERMANENTLY change my pickup day to tuesdays.
Acting like, when I have NEED of my meds, the unannounced change thrown me off, and without my fully functioning phone to set alarms and use as my personal organizer, and the room itself needing a hades of a tidy-by-willy pete and his friend, Mr.Napalm
That there WERE no anomaly correcting remaining meds to be had today. Monday, expect to need, DO need, cannot conjure up any but certain ones fromm a squirt of piss in the styx, a few over the counter or readily available reagents and some scotch mist in the lab. So naturally I go to pick up my script for this week, and instead get met with a most obnoxious grilling as to why im even there, when I was told, yapyapyapap, and the tone of it all being that it was my fault, I'm bad, I'm in the wrong, wrong-doing almost.
So now I'm not due today....ALWAYS TUESDAYs now. Thankfully my doc was, and is, a decent man. Hardly like I've been selling my meds for...well for anything. I need them; especially my oxycontin, chlormethiazole, chlormethiazole, and adrenal blockers, could never be sold off at ANY price for these reasons.s
I EVENTUALLY manage to negotiate the fucking neurotypical, to get it to at least communicate the awareness of the situation and my needs to the doctor for THEM to decide weather or not to assist me. I get told to wait. So I waited patiently for almost four and a half hours just for them to get off it's fucking chocolate starfish and go tell the good Dr. Who I ring back in a while to be told yes, by the reception I may have a single day's worth I.e today's, whilst I wait for tomorrow.
Beggars fucking belief, not to mention vexed the shit out of me, just the sheer point of changing the day permanently, without asking me and totally throwing me off , which was and IS most unwanted and a,, why for the love of twatting fuck not just let me have my rx as usual, today, in full, rather than dividing it into portions of a day it?
And after eventually getting the pills at half 2 at in the afternoon, not half of the stuff is even THERE once I get to the pharmacist. My regular meds, not all of it was even on the fucking script sheets once I got to the actr. pharmacy to cash it in for my
But couldn't be be doing with any MORE aggro, I just wanted to go home, sit my accidentally corrosive-burnt arse crack down and have a long overdue and to be honest, pretty much fought and argued and pled for, have what I did get, and tend said arsecrack-crater with some lidocaine, antiseptic and the shot of oxy I'd bloody well argued like shit for (sorry the fuck for asking, nay, demanding not to be left to go suffer and withdraw, when I have not been negligent, committed no act of fault nor wrongdoing)
I was so fucking vexed after that that my hands were shaking and I came within a picosecond of a myoclonic jerk forcing me to throw my freshly prepped shot solution over the floor, no clonidine to block excess catecholamine release from causing peripheral overstimulation and then no oxy at all, then I would have gone from stressed, tired, pained in the stomach from lack of available food to plain furious IMO. But as it is I managed to load up, and boot the fuck up eventually, even doing it left handed to get in at least a halfarsed-reasonable number of tries to register piloting with my left hand (I'm right handed, but its sensible for any regular IV user to move sites so as not to constantly piss off tissue in the one favoured naturally the most, mainly in my case the left basilic and cephalic veins at the elbow inner crook mainly, or various sites on the back of my right hand, although only if I'm using a 28g pin or smaller, although apparently most people hate using the backs of hands, finding it very painful. I always did when doctors or nurses try IV or taking blood there, but not when I do so myself using a decent needle.
Least-wrists. ONLY with 31 or smaller, and even then it was pretty much a last, last, last choice, suitable-ish site (too many nerves, bloodvessels to use IMO), and of course groin or jugular, which I simply have never, never plan to, and will never use...let alone my fucking knob. Apparently people do haha, poor cunts [when it falls off, poor cunt that gets left behind! )
But damn, oh my god, after all that frustraited, shitty-feeling wait getting left so long overdue, and I so sleepless and all over sore, it was one HELL of a sigh of relief you lot could have heard it from here almost.
And I didn't even come close to finishing it, so I in effect, thanks to nodding off at my chair, still have three quarters and a bit or so left. Time to relocate to bed methinks, sitting upright falling asleep for hours with a crater corroded into an arsecrack hurts like a bitch, even with IV opiates.
Fucking pencilnecked inbreed NT badger-cocked* stuffed shirts; ugh.
(* is that a good thing?.....only if you happen to be a girl badger
)
