I left a rambling, incoherent message for the GI nurse this morning explaining, or sort of explaining as best I could with a whiny, cranky mess of a child in my arms, that I thought Joshua’s reflux meds needed to be adjusted again.
She finally called me back about five hours later, after I struggled to get him to take a nap because every time I laid him down, he’d have a “spell” for lack of a better term, and he would reflux and then choke, and then wake up fussing and uncomfortable.
She said that the GI wanted to switch Joshua to a new medicine. She gave me the run-down on how we’d be dosing him and that this was a medicine I’ll have to mix every day (and discard over HALF of it because it isn’t stable for long enough for me to give him all of it…). So I asked her what was the difference between the two meds, you know, in order to be an informed parent.
Her response: “This one works better.”
Yes, seriously. That was her response. Not “Oh, this one is a PPI. Do you know what a PPI is? Here’s where you can go to learn more about it.” or “Well, you see, this one will blahblahblah whereas the other one just yaddayaddayadda.” Just a “this one is better because the doctor says so.”
Hoookay…off to Google I went. And luckily, she’s right. This one is better. Or at least I hope it will be.
You see, I haven’t actually gotten said new medicine yet to be able to give it to my son. Let me explain (and every attempt will be made to NOT use the “F” word. Should my mother somehow stumble upon this blog, I do not want to give her a heart attack. Joshua loves her too much.)
Joshua and I, after he finally took an almost THREE hour nap (how, I don’t know) and woke up happy, went to the grocery store and pharmacy. We picked up a few items we’ll need in the coming days and then went to visit our favorite pharmacist, Joe. (Seriously…he is the nicest guy. He appears unmarried, which is a shame, because he’s nice and HELLO, pharmacists make serious money!)
Joe and his assistants inform me that they do not have Joshua’s prescription ready. That they haven’t seen or heard of said prescription all day long. But, they have a few messages on voicemail and if I can give them a minute, they’ll check.
So I do. And they do. And there is no prescription on the voicemail.
Joe sticks his head out the window and says “Who’s the doctor? I’ll give them a call.” So I told him and he called and the office was closed. Closed. With no prescription.
Then I get all mother-hen and I call the doctor’s office to page the on-call physician. The on-call physician calls me back and I explain the situation and she says there’s nothing she can do and I’ll have to call back in the morning. As in, tomorrow. As in, yes you have to make it through one more night and you should pray to God like you haven’t prayed to Him in years that He will help your baby sleep as well tonight as he did last night.
I get that she doesn’t have access to his medical records after hours, and I get that she can’t just take my word for it that they were going to call in a prescription for this new drug that I’m hoping is our miracle. I get it. I do.
What set me over the edge is when she says to me that she’s “sorry for the inconvenience.”
Really?
You are?
You’re sorry for the “inconvenience”?
Lady, this is more than an “inconvenience.” And I told her so.
I told her, standing in the baby aisle at the grocery store that this was NOT just an “inconvenience.” This was my SON and his well-being we were talking about.
And then I felt bad because you could hear in her voice over the phone that she wanted to help and couldn’t. And maybe she felt a little bad for the nurse who is going to get an earful tomorrow morning, too.