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Well, I wanted to tell you how it went. I was the one at the bridge, who was scheduled to see the "suboxone" doctor here in Chattanooga this morning at 10:30.
The incompetent receptionist gave me the wrong freeway exit, to begin with. But made it on time. And you know what she said to me when I told her, "I'm Tonnie, we spoke yesterday?"
You won't believe this. She says,
"Ummm. . . I didn't really know what that drug you wanted even was, really...."
She asked me to sit down and to leave my purse in this little cubby. She asked if I wanted anything and I asked for a glass of water. She asked if I'd rather have a Coke and I said that sounded great. So she sits me at this little table and pushes a piece of paper in front of me and wants me to sign a "consent to treat" form. I look expectantly for my Coke, which I thought was a nice offer on a hot day. She said, "We have to clear some things up first." Man, I knew I ought to bend right over 'cause ladies and gentlemen there was gonna be a royal screwing going down tonight.
And I say, "I asked you specifically for suboxone treatment, explained that I was having trouble finding a doctor to prescribe it in town. You told me you understood, and I'd have my first dose 20 minutes after I arrived."
She says, "Ma'am, I can't do ANYTHING until you sign this. . . "
And I go, "Is this even a doctor's office? It looks like a little villiage!"
And she says, "Ma'am if you don't sign the consent form...."
So I said I wanted my purse back and told her she had no idea how much hope I'd had. . . sat up all night long, reading about suboxone and hoping for some help, my legs jumping and my hope building - my family was saying this was my LAST chance. I asked her again for my purse.
She calls in some nurse who wants to take my blood pressure and I'm like, "Do you or don't you use subutex? This lady promised me you did, and I drove all the way from Ooltewah - what kind of place IS this?"
"We're an in-patient 28-day detox center. . "
I'm looking for that purse now, and my last lortab was inside. Thinking about that bridge and wanting to take this excuse-of-a-receptionist over the side with me.
The nurse kept saying, "hear me out. . . "
I said, "Okay, just wondering, what do you use to detox?"
And she says, "We use a wonderful narcotic called "Darvocet" and for your comfort, some "Ativan" at night.
And I say, "What do you think I am? I know what Darvocet is and Ativan is - I could buy that myself! I've been through 12-step, christian scientology, spiritual cleansing and three in-patient detox centers. . . and you're offering me DARVOCET to get off 160-220 oxycontins per day?"
Then I said the dreaded, "I was on a f******ng bridge last night and YOU were my ONLY hope. My husband gave me ONE MORE CHANCE and that chance was this hokey camp and a darvocet?"
So the nurse, she says, "Tonnie, you've just said you want to hurt yourself; you signed the consent form, so I have to, as a professional. . . "
And I say, "Wrong. I didn't sign - I told you I know my business, as well. I want my purse and if you think I'm paying for an evaluation, you're more crazy than I ever was."
She actually said, "I'll get the Director, "Hey, Ross!"
I told the receptionist, "You said to me, you said, 'Suboxone is exactly what the doctor will prescribe for you.' You DIDN'T misunderstand, you knew what you were doing!"
Man, I found the cubby, took my purse, and cried all the way home (sucking on my last 10mg of course.)
My husband was pissed. He said, "But you said this was "the thing" you wanted!"
I got a grip, and thought "My God, what do I do now?"
Well, I found a doctor in a town called Louden, TN (one and a half hour drive) who prescribes suboxone. How much or for how long, I don't know. Every other doctor within 100 miles had their 30 people quota. My appointment is for July 11, a week from Monday.
My husband says he can't afford to buy me oxy or lortab off the streets, and my doctors kind of found out about each other and booted me out very unceremoniously and it was all very embarrassing. Tomorrow is day five of my new job and it's gonna be hell. I mean hell.
I just - man, I can't do anything right! In this job, you have to act so "perky/friendly" which I'm NOT when not using (but WAS when I worked the last 5 days - I had oxys then!) My husband was glad to tell me that he had "no cash" for any off-the-street pills. I told him I knew that, but not to tell me again; I just can't take knowing I won't get anything the next day - I'd lose those three wonderful hours of sleep that comes down as it is.
God's just gonna have to come on down and shine on me tomorrow, because my friends, if I make it through that day it will be a miracle.
Only those who have felt truly hopeless will understand the pain I am in. And will know how much I'd appreciate your response.
Thanks for listening, and "God bless us every one."
Your Friend,

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