I went to the lung clinic because my asthma has been rough this summer and I had to go to emergency at the same hospital as my clinic, so they advised me to go. My appointment began most pleasantly—a beautiful young intern was working with my pulmonologist, Dr. Darscheid.
When I sat down, she asked me: "How was the surgery?" I said: "Wrong file, I'm Chris." That's how I found out a specialist I went to recommended the surgery that is somehow supposed to improve my breathing.
The rest of the appointment was routine. Part of it involved doubling my intake of my inhaler which means I will go through each puffer twice as fast and my then current puffer was almost empty. So the next day, I went to the pharmacy to get a refill. They said they couldn't give me one because my prescription was expired. So I walked to Dr. Darscheid's office. He is only there, one day a week.
Back to the pharmacy and they complete a form and fax it to my GP.
Two days later, with no medicine left in my puffer and the weekend pending, I called the pharmacy to find out that my GP had not yet approved the prescription. I call the GP. They can't renew it until the GP talks with the pulmonologist. Meanwhile, anxiety makes the asthma worse. SO I go back to the pharmacy hoping they will provide me with an emergency supply, and they do. I almost wept with relief.
Why didn't that happen at the fist visit to the pharmacy? Friday I go to see my GP so that he can give me a new prescription. We have a fabulous system but given my experience I wonder how single people of limited capacity cope with so bureaucratic and prone to break-down our system is.
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