Recap of the worst weekend ever.

So, like I said. I had pink eye. It started Thursday morning, and hit full on Friday morning. When I woke up, I thought Justin had punched me in the eye during the night. My eye was watering like crazy, so I got up at 5 and started to wipe it off and what not. Justin, my brother Jess, and I were all planning on going camping from Friday to Saturday and dig for trilobites, geodes, and go to Topaz Mountain. I wasn't sure if I should go with or not (I didn't know at the time that I had pink eye) so I had Justin give me a blessing, in which something was said about doctors and I took that as a "don't go, you need to check this out" sign.

They left, and my brother in law Adam took me to my parents so that my mom could drive me to the insta-care. When I got there it was roughly 7:00 AM so I went to sleep in their spare bedroom, and my mom woke me up at 10, and off to the insta-care we went. We went to the Riverton Hospital which was completely empty. We got right in, and he told me it was pink eye. I'd left my contacts in for too long, and he said one probably just got irritated, and I didn't leave it alone, so that's probably why it happened. Anyway. He prescribed me some eye drops, and told me I couldn't put my contacts in until my eye was completely healed. Mind you, my prescription for contacts is roughly -4.00, and my glasses are from my sophomore year in high school which puts my prescription at like a -1.00. So, my glasses help me see a few inches further than what I see without any help. I got my prescription filled, and went home. The eye drops left the WORST taste in my mouth, so as soon as I took them, I'd eat to mask the taste. Awesome, huh?

Onto my 'flat warts'. So, like I said, I have these all over my leg. When I had Dr. Forsha look at them a couple weeks ago, he was all "Oh yep! Those are flat warts. You probably have dozens of them" which I do, and I don't find amusing. So, they did some experiment with ointment on my hip, and then Thursday they put the dpcp (the ointment) on my warts. Well, they got red and itchy. Then Friday night they started to blister. Then more started blistering. And the itch continued on. Finally Saturday afternoon, after sending a picture of my leg to my parents, my mom called me and told me to call the doctor. So I did.

Me: Hi this is Tracee Larson, I have flat warts all over my leg.
Dr. Forsha: Oh yes yes, I remember you.
Me: Well, they're starting to blister up, is that normal?
Dr. Forsha: Oh well, no. Basically what we're doing is a controlled allergic reaction, so it's like putting liquid poison ivy/oak on your leg. The concentration must have been a little high. Are the blisters twice the size of the warts?
Me: More, at least 3-5 times bigger.
Dr. Forsha: Hmm. Well, why don't you call me tomorrow, and if it's still this way, I'll call in a prescription for Prednizone.
Me: Okay, thanks.
Dr. Forsha: -click-

So, Friday night I didn't get much sleep what with all the itching and eye business. And with Justin gone, I just sat and watched TV all day. I had to move the lazy boy like a foot away from the TV so I could watch it without getting a headache. Then Saturday night was about the same, but with Justin home. I just laid in bed and tried not to itch. So Sunday rolls around and I call Dr. Forsha back, and he calls in the prescription to help the itching.

So, we go to Wal Mart to pick it up, and the guy at the pharmacy asks if I've ever taken it before. I've had hives before, but I don't remember. So I say no. He goes on to tell me that it can give me an upset stomach so it's better to eat when I take them (yay, more eating) and that I'll have 5 days of taking 3 pills, then 5 days of 2 pills, and then 5 days of 1. Woo. Then, he looks at Justin and says, "Now, this can cause moodiness."

Um, hello? I have pink eye, and itchy blisters all over my leg, and I can't see a damn thing. I'm already moody.

So Justin and I laugh about that. But I do have to admit, the prednizone is doing a fine job, and most the itchiness is gone. Hallelujah!

Going back to my dermatologist appointment with Dr. Forsha on Thursday, I was told to call back 3-5 days later to let the office know about my reaction. So that's what I did. I talked to the phone nurse, who says she's going to call in my prescription for me to pick up tomorrow (Wednesday) and she'll call me back to let me know. So I wait, and a couple of hours later, she calls and says, "Well, the Doctor decided that since your reaction was so severe, we're going to put you on a different cream that you put on once a day. It's called somethingIcan'tremember and it'll be in a box of 24 packets. Can you pick that up tomorrow at the Riverton Wal Mart?" Which I respond with, yes, thanks, blah blah blah.

Wednesday morning, I go to Wal Mart.
Me: My doctor called in a prescription for me yesterday. My name is Tracee Larson
Lady: Okay, just a moment.

Lady: Um, okay. Do you have insurance?
Me: No, I don't.
Lady: Oh, well this is $600 dollars.
Me: Okay. Well, I'm going to have to talk to them. Sorry!
-I turn and walk away so as not to freak out at the poor lady just doing her job-

Awesome. I call the dermatologist office back, and guess what? They're all out to lunch. For a full hour. Once I finally get someone, I'm transferred to the phone nurse, and naturally, I get her voicemail. So I leave a message about how the prescription was $600, and that's not going to work for me so we need to figure something else out. Another couple of hours later, she calls back saying that they don't have a licensed doctor in the office, so she'll have to call me tomorrow. Which is now today.

I called the office earlier today, but no one answered. Go figure. Then to my surprise, the phone nurse calls me back.

Phone Nurse: Is this Tracee?
Me: Yes it is.
PN: Hi this is so-and-so from South Valley Dermatology, and I've talked to one of our doctors, and we've decided to go with a cream that you can apply to your leg 3 times a day. It's all purely samples provided from the manufacturer.
Me: So I won't have to pay anything?
PN: That's right.
Me: Thanks, because I don't have insurance, and I can't afford much more.
PN: I'm so sorry. We keep it here in the office, so is there anyway you could come here and pick it up? The problem is we're going to lunch soon and won't be back until 1:30.
Me: That should be just fine.
PN: Okay, it's kept in the fridge, so we'll have it ready for you.
Me: Okay, thanks.

So, la-de-da-de-da 1:15 rolls around, and I head over. I go in, and ask for the prescription for Tracee Larson, and the girl (who I assume is new can't find it. So I mention that it's in the fridge, and she goes and looks there, and still can't find it. Then a nurse practitioner whatever comes and asks what it's for, and I say my leg. Luckily, she finds it. When she hands it to me, I asked her to just look at my leg really quick, because I just have some questions, which she is fine with. When I roll up my pant leg, guess what reaction I get? "Good heavens girlfriend!" 1- I am not your girlfriend. 2- your office did this to me!

So I ask about scarring, how long it will take to heal, etc. I get the answers I expect. Not the ones I want to hear, but I expect them nonetheless.

So needless to say, at this point I'm satisfied.

But then, and I feel this encompasses my whole experience with this dumb office... When I go out to my car, I jump in and start the car, throw it into reverse just as someone pulls in next to me. Well, I wait patiently for this 50-something lady to get out of the passenger side. She opens the door, and BAM. She hits my jeep with the door. WHAT THE! ARE YOU SERIOUS?! She makes a little "Oh no!" face, and continues on her way. Just leaves. Doesn't even make sure there isn't anything there. No 'I'm so sorry I'm an idiot and can't control the stupid car door' just nothing.

I'm past the point of handling anything more this week. So if you need me, I'll be curled up in bed sleeping until Sunday morning.