Yes, that’s right—thanks to my new status as a lowly Medicaid patient, it looks like I’m going to have to get all my mental health care from the county. To say I’m sick about it is an understatement; Dr. Awesomesauce has seen me through crisis after crisis and been my port in the storm that is my life with bipolar disorder. Whatever will I do without him?
From what the paperwork says, I can appeal by talking to the powers that be, and of course I will because I’ve been working with the man for three years and needed some pretty intensive management for most of that time. I’m also in the middle of a Social Security disability case and don’t want to change horses in mid-stream. Maybe it will be enough to tip the scales in my favor and maybe not, but it’s the only chance I have of hanging onto my doctor.
Of course, I could stay with him if I could afford to pay for sessions myself, but if that were the case we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. So unless I can convince the bureaucrats of the necessity of maintaining the status quo, I’m SOL. And that makes me incredibly sad.
Everyone who reads this blog know what Dr. A has meant to me. He literally saved my life last fall, and I can’t even imagine it without his guidance, wisdom, humor, and nagging. I wonder how I’ll fare without a regular psychiatrist who knows me like he does. I’m pretty high-maintenance and my treatment is tricky. It’s taken three years and a zillion adjustments to get to where I am now—dear God, what if they want to mess with my meds?
I think what I’ll do is keep my appointment in May; there needs to be good-byes and a sense of closure. In the meantime I’m going to try to get used to the idea of handling yet another major upheaval in my life; I guess I got too long of a break from the festivities and have to suffer for it. Crap.