In January, DG had a follow-up appointment. Well, follow-up isn't the right word. Once a year, he sees a GP (general practitioner, for those not up on the hip, hospital lingo). Once a month, he sees the anti-coag clinic (that's anti-coagulation, for people on blood thinners). So, in January, he saw his doctor and that doctor prescribed Baclofen.
Baclofen is a muscle relaxer and anti-spastic. But we didn't know that at the time. A few weeks go by and DG tells me that he hasn't received his Baclofen. Of course, he didn't say that at the time. What he said was: "I didn't get this drug I'm supposed to get." Which was DG-speak for "call and figure this out with as minimal information as possible..."
The pharmacist at the VA looked it up and said that all his drugs were current and if he didn't have something, just wait, it was probably en route. And then I forgot about it.
Hey, what can I say? I had a lot of crap going on in my own life. In case I haven't crammed it down your throats as well, I've got Fibromyalgia, which is a lovely, debilitating disorder that causes a lot of pain. But I digress.
Today, DG went up to the VA hospital and saw the seizure people. The clinic has its own goofy name (and by "clinic", I mean in the hospital, its not a free-standing place) and they see people who have seizure issues. DG started having seizures about six months after the stroke (the day before my twenty-sixth birthday, in fact). They tried to wean him off seizure meds, but after a short time, he started having them again. So, back on the drugs he goes. And now he sees the seizure clinic once a year (unless there's a problem, of course).
Now, DG doesn't care what clinic he sees. He goes to the appointment, gets seen, says everything is fine, even if it isn't. He slipped on the ice a couple of years ago and quite possibly broke a rib or two. He landed on his paralyzed arm (he was wearing a puffy winter coat). Anyway, he was at the hospital for another reason and I really don't remember why I was with him, other than to make him go to Urgent Care for his ribs. The doctor looked at his ribs- bruised, visibly swollen, it hurt to even raise his arm- and that's the doctor raising his arm for him, since DG can't raise his arm. X-rays showed no fracture, so the doctor called it a "bone bruise" and sent him on his way with a bottle of Vicodin, some anti-inflammatories, and instructions on using ice and heat.
In the truck for the drive home he said, "Wow. How hard do you have to hit a bone to bruise it?"
I replied: "You know how hard you have to hit it to break it?" When he nodded I added, "A little less than that."
He wasn't amused.
So, today, he comes back from his appointment with a note. The note tells me nothing- its just a doctor's name, a phone number and the word Baclofen. In DG speak, which took about three minutes to get out, I was told I had to call the doctor at that number, inform them that the order for the drugs had been written but never put into the computer. And apparently, doctors can't just put in other doctors' requests all willy-nilly.
While I was on hold, I showed DG my daily photo submission on Flickr. Apparently, he doesn't think I'm artsy and doesn't believe I was naked in the photo I took of myself. I was trying not to say stuff while on hold, because at the moment you blurt out: "Of course I was naked in that photo, that's my ASS right there!" the person you're waiting for gets on the phone. Here's the photo in question if you feel like clicking. If you're on my Facebook list, then you've already seen it.
I got the medicine order all sorted with a receptionist. I asked if he knew what Baclofen was for and he stated that he did not (he was merely a data entry/receptionist person). I said I'd Google it. And while I was on hold while Mr. Receptionist did what he had to do, I found Baclofen.
Its a muscle relaxer and antispastic. That's right. Apparently, the Disabled Guy is a Spaz. And he takes medicine for it.