Preface: My former health insurance up and quit as of 31 December. My new insurance needs prior authorizations (PAs) with detailed histories (and possibly small animal sacrifices) before covering some of the meds I’ve been taking for years, including pain meds. (Yup, opioids. Ever controlled in a way that punishes legal users while not addressing the true source of the crisis, opioids.)
The need for a PA is only generated when one tries to fill the prescription. One can’t fill such a scrip early and is suspect if has more than a few leftover pills. But, one may get a 7-day “credit” of pills against the month’s supply, which then voids the prescription. So, when the PA goes through, one needs a new scrip for the remaining 3 weeks. And, if it takes more than 7 days for PA/approval? Well then, you is shit outta luck!*
The Steps, according to Underlying Conditions Lady:
1. Ration your remaining pain pills for maximum ineffectiveness.
2. Think hopeful and liver-affirming thoughts while swallowing extra-strength generic acetaminophen/paracetamol.
3. Try not to feel like a loser as “dat dumb drug dat was poisoned, ja?” — as your German aunt referred to Tylenol — does little more than reduce your lupus fever and aches a little.
4. Distract yourself with NBA basketball, podcasts, and passing thoughts of fire bombing FDA headquarters.
5. Play with the dog until everything hurts too much.
6. Go ahead and have an edible. Medical marijuana is legal in New Mexico and you have consumables. Lemon-lime-flavored, weedy gummies* and dark chocolate with a ganja aftertaste. Yum, right?
7. Try to enjoy being high for several hours. Stretch. Do bed yoga. Fall into a deep and dreamless sleep, which does, in fact, help.
8. Make a comprehensive list of all the drugs you’ve tried over the years for your multiple forms of chronic pain, and how they failed you — or you failed yourself — so that now you take opioids, because, of course, you are a loser.
9. Cuddle in bed with the dogs.
10. Play a game on your phone. Try to ignore the tinnitus. Fail at that, but win the game.
11. Nod off while playing a game or three on your tablet.
12. Toss and turn, while trying to not disturb the husband or, more importantly, the dogs, and wonder why the fuck your leg won’t stop jumping around.
13. Embrace your identity as a total loser as you take a low-dose gabapentin from your dog’s stash. Think: This should take the edge off the nerve pain. But just one pill, lest I lose my ever-loving mind. (Not an exaggeration.)
14. Do a guided meditation by way of an app on your phone. Observe your mind wander to thoughts of insurance — not very complimentary thoughts. And to the nurse who said you were “not a very squeaky wheel.” And to the fellow patient at your rheumatologist’s office who giddily declared his pain level was 0!
15. Zero? Zero! Schweine Hund! Arschloch! ¡Pendejo! You can not remember the last time your pain level was below 3! WTF?!
16. Breathe! Remember that you’re working on radical self-love, which means not using dehumanizing language, among other things. But … Fuck it! You hate the goddamn pain scale. And all this prior authorization shite. Also, reactionary and ineffective FDA policy. But mostly now not being able to sleep.
17. Eventually, you decide to make a gratitude entry in your journal and that helps a bit.
18. Next day you go ahead and take the nsaid meloxicam and cross your fingers that your stomach can take it. Maybe take one of your man’s omeprazoles. Or not really, as that’s illegal. And you don’t actually cross your fingers, but you do worry, because that’s just as useless.
19. Just go ahead and have another edible. Maybe you can read a short story or two before you nod off. (Current library loan, Ayiti by Roxane Gay!) Hey, maybe you’ll feel creative and write something. No pressure.
20. Realize you don’t have the strength to launch fireballs at the FDA; hence, you’d need to hire a catapult operator. Wonder what that might cost.
21. Recognize that you have taken a break from your loving-kindness practice, temporarily, in lieu of other meditation foci — and it shows! Give it a shot while stoned, because, why not? Direct it at yourself. It is possible that you may not, in fact, be a total loser.
*As opioids can be a little to very constipating, this may be literal for many patients.
*I still pronounce these rubbery treats as goo-mees, as did my German aunt for the 35 years I knew her, all in the USA. Never been a fan of anything gummy — worms, bears, etc. But I’ll readily take them over sweet-ass marzipan! I’m a freak!
My Good Wolf 