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Monday, November 9, 2015

What's it like to be A.D.D.? Here's one example...

So, funny* story...

My son has been diagnosed with A.D.D., like me. As much as misery loves company, I wouldn't wish this scattered brain on anyone, especially my own offspring. Unfortunately for him, Attention Deficit Disorder has been identified as something you can kind of count on if both your parents had it. (I totally should have thought of that when he was conceived.) (Except that I was 17).

Anyway, the first three months he's been on the medication have been AMAZING. He's a completely different kid in all the right ways. (He was pretty awesome to begin with, to tell the truth. But you guys know that already.)

The trouble is, he has A.D.D.-for-life ME for a mother. I tucked away his prescription in the SAFEST POSSIBLE PLACE so we'd have it when we needed it. I'm sure you've heard me whine before about the controlled substance laws, but in case you're not familiar, this kind of medication is heavily controlled, meaning you need to get a written prescription each and every month from your doctor, which absolutely canNOT be replaced if you happen to lose track of it.

Obviously I lost track of it.

Couldn't find it anywhere. I tore my house apart. Top to bottom, I searched everywhere I could possibly think. I knew where I'd put it, in my super-amazing planner, which I was going to use every single day for SURE, because THIS month I was going to be organized. The planner was used twice and promptly lost.

That's OK, I thought. We'll survive. We went 12 years without it, we can survive a month. 

Three weeks later, I was desperate. His grades were dropping, he couldn't focus on a single task, his little brothers were even irritated. I'd forgotten how difficult it was for him to stay on track. I knew what she'd say, but I called the doc anyway, begging for her to re-write the script. Nope, laws are laws. She couldn't write a new script until the one I had lost was supposed to have run out.

I found the script TWO DAYS before the script was supposed to have run out. Doesn't matter, two days is two days of focused kid + happy mom! I ran straight to the pharmacy, with a very rare bounce in my step.

Pharmacy tech: "Oh, we can't fill this. It's expired."
Me: Luke Skywalker-ish "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
The doctor could write me a new prescription, I'd just have to drive back down to Salt Lake at rush hour to get it. Of course I drove to Salt Lake, picked up the prescription...

and then discovered my insurance had been canceled. This medication is way more than I can afford to pay for without insurance.

I won't bore you with the hoops I had to jump through to get my insurance coverage back. Let's just say it was a fiasco including another 2 weeks of waiting, hoping he and I could stand to live with each other until it was fixed.

Today I was informed my insurance was re-instated. I finally had BOTH components needed to get the prescription filled! I drove to the pharmacy, a little too fast, because YAY!

Aaaaand the prescription is not in my purse. I KNOW I didn't take it out of my purse since I got it from the doctor two weeks before. I was VERY CAREFUL about that! But here was my purse, completely prescription-free. I had a little hissy fit in the pharmacy parking lot, and drove back home, convinced someone was messing with me. Surely this is a trick someone is playing on me. No one would do this to me, would they?

You know how you don't figure something out until you tell someone else the story? I sat down to text Boyfriend about the problem, when I remembered what happened. This morning my sister and I were volunteering at my son's school fundraiser, and she needed something to write on. I pulled out an envelope from my purse and volunteered it for the list she was making. It was, after all, just an empty envelope from yesterday's mail I'd thrown in my bag. (It was not an empty envelope.)

This meant I had left the envelope with the prescription in it at the fund raiser three hours before. We'd left it for the next shift of volunteers to record their sales. I tore over to the school, and retrieved the prescription envelope, with an embarrassingly audible, "OH, THANK GOD!"

This, friends, is what every single day is like in the life of an A.D.D. person. There is always another catastrophe, and usually our own scattered brain is the cause. I'm sure you know someone in your life who struggles with A.D.D., but I promise you, they are more frustrated with it than you are. No, seriously.

All's well that ends well, I suppose, but I'm convinced my heart won't withstand many more years of panic over things I've managed to misplace.



*it's not funny at all

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