Oh, doctors, how difficult you make my life. And I have so fucking many of you.
I understand why I'm doing all these things, I really do. I take the pills to keep the crazy, and the insomnia, and the migraines and the cancer at bay. And, sometimes, I'm going to clash with a provider, and I'll have to find a new one. And sometimes people won't call back, and I'll have to go a couple days without some of my meds, and it won't kill me. I kind of believe it's my own fault for not calling sooner, not pushing harder.
I know I'm not a hypochondriac. Or, at least, I believe I'm not one. I don't think I'm a drug seeker either. Sure, ambien's kind of addictive, but it's not like I'm showing up in the ER lying about a mysterious abdominal pain for narcotics.
Blargh.