After several hours of phone tag between me, doctors, and pharmacies yesterday, I got a prescription for the magical, snortable clotting agent that I conveniently left at home. The retail price is $700 for 12 doses. That’s insanity. Do you know how many big cup Reese’s I could get for $700? About 700. That’s a way better deal. If it weren’t for insurance, I’d just have to let myself bleed to death. It was still almost a $100 copay. Drug costs are ridiculous. I threw a bunch of money away as a kid by “hiding” Prozac in the trash rather than taking it. Should an 11 year old even be prescribed Prozac? I don’t think so, and I obviously didn’t think so then either.
My parents are having their fifth shouting match of the day (not even noon yet!), but this time I refuse to run interference. We’ll see how long it takes for something to get thrown/broken. Ah, it takes me back. It’s like watching a lion and a hyena attempting to coexist in the same cage.
I received a text from my husband. Amazing! He lives! He’s so stressed out, he started vaping nicotine juice. Whaaaaat? I vaped for a bit, but stopped when I started hacking. And then there was the pneumonia. I don’t care what’s in it, it shouldn’t be inhaled. He swears he ‘felt calmer’ when he was around me while I vaped. Similar to him going through nicotine withdrawal right along with me when I quit smoking the first time 8 years ago. So, I turned him into an alcoholic, and now he’s a nicotine addict like me. His Mom is going to kill me, because everything that’s wrong with him is my fault, right?
He also wants me to stay here until the 15th so he can pick me up after graduation. “I’ll want to talk to you after having to deal with all of this BS.” Sorry kid, but that doesn’t sell the idea to me any more than having to spend an additional two weeks here. Besides that, he can’t afford my hourly rate for therapizing. He’s being very persistent. I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want me to be alone, or if he likes to feel like he’s rescuing me from my insane parents. Probably a combination of the two, and an expressed desire to talk my ear off for 7 hours on the ride home. It’s either that or 7 hours in the car with my parents…. buuut, getting out of Ohio sooner makes that 7 hours in hell worth it.
I’m feeling a bit selfish because I’m not flying down to Florida for his graduation, and I’m also not meeting him in WV for his cousin’s graduation. The least I can do is tough it out for another 15 days and suffer another shitty truck ride with him, but I don’t wanna. In fact, I’d like to be knocked out right now, then awakened when it’s all over. Like a colonoscopy. It’s about as pleasant. I’d rather have a colonoscopy than spend more time here. Whoa.