on taking "time off"

Free time is a strange thing.

When I arranged the time interval graduation and beginning my postdoc, I was advised by several reputable and wide-ranging sources to take 2-3 months off if at all possible. It was, so I did.

I approached this time with dread, fearing that in three months away from the bench I would lose pipetting and critical thinking skills alike. That I would swiftly facilitate moving to New Job City and spend two months traveling but mostly bored out of my mind. That is not even remotely what happened.

It took two beastly months to move to New Job City, during which I also became H.K.'s interim administrative assistant as he generously moved his expanding Company to said city. When the dust began to settle, I worked furiously for weeks to transfer medical referrals and authorizations so that I would not miss my next treatment. A nightmare, which culminated yesterday in the most sketch and traumatizing infusion I have ever experienced [in 7 years, y'all].

The "to-read" tower beside my bed has been marginally reduced. Our new domicile now feels like a Home. I have taken up and played a substantial amount of Hearthstone. I've indulged in some delicious wine. Last week, our typical world travel logistics reversed as I followed H.K. to Europe for one of his conventions.

It's been time well-spent, and now that I have one week left before New Job begins, I am feeling a bit of panic. Because contrary to my early anticipation, I am not sure that I'm ready for it to be over. I'm mildly afraid to return to the bench, because although these last three months have been productive, I wanted to do so much more. And concern lingers that I may have forgotten how to pipet or design experiments.

Then, of course, there is the existential deliberation over whether the ability to refrain from reading literature for three months -- excepting the occasional abstract (which shocks me to my core, btw) -- means that I am not a serious scientist.

--

Through all of this, the Crohn's baby has been restless. Unleashing a roller coaster tantrum the likes of which I have not experienced in years. Although I have semi-successfully transitioned to a New Job City Gastroenterologist, and been "controlling" symptoms with diet, over-the-counter and donation-accepting remedies... let's just say I spent plenty of Euros visiting Europe's public toiletten/s.

concerning the ineffectual techniques and person of my GI doctor

Last week -- strangely, just a few days before the big episode -- I had an appointment with my GI doc.  This was not a regular check-up, nor did he care to see how I was doing.  I made this appointment because for the last 6 months, he has not been able to find my medical records.  Yes, truly.

He says "they're here in the office somewhere, I know I didn't throw them out," Yes, I know I didn't throw them out.  This is an actual thing that he said to me.  For the moment, I withheld the threat of a HIPAA lawsuit.

The medically related subjects we touched on were these:

1) "So when was the last time you got a CBC/liver panel done?"

"Well, that was something I wanted to request since during the first 2 years that I was on Remicade, I had panels done once every 3 months and I haven't had one for over a year now [since I have been your patient]"

"Oh sure, yes let's have those done then." 

2) "My 3-part-sagas have been infrequent and I finally found an antispasmotic that works, after 10 years of trying things that did nothing"

"Oh that's great, what is it?"

"Marijuana."

"Oh..." He huffs a little and looks at the floor, disappointed. "Well have you tried everything else?   Bentyl?"

"Yes, you prescribed me Bentyl last year, it didn't do anything"

"Clidinium?"

"Yes."

"Hm."  With that, he was out of ideas and proceeded to ask me about pot.  A series of idiotic questions that made it abundantly clear that he had no idea how it is used medicinally.  "So how did you get it?  It had to be prescribed, right?  So you go to a doctor who examines you and gives you a card?  Do you smoke it?"

"Yes, it was prescribed.  I use a vaporizer, which only releases the medicinals of the leaves.  There is no burning, and no smoke."

"Can you... I mean, are you able to do things afterward?"

"If you mean, do I get stoned, no I do not.  I take one hit and that is sufficient to relieve my abdominal pain within 10 minutes."

"Huh.  Because you know I have a patient who uses marijuana and smokes every day, and does nothing with his life and lives in his mom's basement.  So..."  

"That is unfortunate, if only your patient had access to a psychotherapist who could help him work through Crohn's related depression and dependence.  But not to worry, I do not have an addictive personality and I have the motivation to avoid drug dependence.  I use it once or twice a week."

"Well, I guess whatever works." Let me emphasize, at this point, that this is an OD, not an MD.  An osteopathic physician whose schooling is specific to harmonizing the body, not just about which prescription drugs do what.  This is a man who should at least know what marijuana is and how it is used medicinally.  This is a man who should be open to non-pharmaceutical therapy, not excessively closed minded toward and ignorant about it.

3)  "So I'm trying this new anti-inflammatory diet and it seems to be going pretty smoothly.  I've been weening into it for a month now.  But still, I eat a banana and I'm constipated for 2 days."

At this, he laughs.  "Yeah, I have another Crohn's patient that that happens to."  That was the end of his response.  No commentary about how often I should be eating bananas, or other ways by which I might acquire potassium -- not that I need direction.  "So you're not eating any grains then?  No wheat, no rice -- well, except brown rice -- no oatmeal?"

"Well, oatmeal actually has anti-inflammatory properties," I corrected as nonchalantly as I possibly could.  How does this guy have a gastroenterology practice and not know anything about marijuana or diets?  How, I ask you.

"Well alright, let me order those tests and I'll give you a call when the results come in."  Really?  You have nothing to say about my dietary choices?  No recommendations based on my medication?

"What should I do about not feeling that great lately?  Lots of constipation, nausea and the big D?" I asked desperately trying to get any kind of medical advice out of him before he shuffled me out the door.

"Well, it's up to you.  Do you feel like you want to increase the dose?"

"Is that something you recommend based on my symptoms, or do you think they are just IBS and not related to inflammation?"

"Well, it's really your call on the Remicade.  You can increase or decrease it at your discretion."  Again, not remotely answering my question or giving any kind of medical advice.

This is the kind of medical treatment that student insurance covers.  God help me survive the next 4 years, or until H.K. gets rich enough that he can help me acquire real health coverage once Obamacare finally kicks in and I can no longer be denied for pre-existing.

sweet victory

It should not take Blue Cross Blue Shield 6 months to figure out how to correctly bill a Remicade treatment.

It should not take over a year of my calling every representative of every department of Blue Cross Blue Shield to finally get to the one person who actually tells me the truth about how badly their company has fucked up my billing.

Blue Cross Blue Shield should not then be able to legally bill me retroactively for the amount of money they fuck-upedly did not charge me originally, after straight up lying to the tune of my having to only pay a $20 copay.

It should not take over a month for Blue Cross Blue Shield to process an E.O.B. for my Remicade treatment which I then have to call and have them fax to RemiStart.  I should not then have to make a separate call to Hoag Financial Services to have a Payment Report faxed to RemiStart because the E.O.B. says "chemotherapy", not "Remicade".

I should not have to have RemiStart's reimbursement card get denied because Hoag Financial's "terminal" isn't connected to RemiStart's "terminal".  I should not then be responsible for making sure that a "ticket" is submitted somewhere in debit card space so that that connection can be made.  I am the only patient at Hoag Memorial Hospital that has a reimbursement plan with RemiStart?  Really?

I should not have to do these things.  Especially not in the midst of a time-sensitive behavioral experiment and while the IBS component of my Crohn's is bringing me to my knees.  But I live in America.  So when that godforsaken reimbursement payment goes through after a year of exhausting, harrowing, brutal financial stress and anxiety... victory is sweet.