This has been a week of rampant interpersonal asshattery, none of which I'll get into here. Suffice to say, it has been a week of asshattery.
The thing that just broke my everything this afternoon?
A letter from my neurologist, saying he'll be unable to continue as my neurologist. And that I can call his office if I require further information.
Which I do.
So this is because I missed my January appointment. Which I did because it was to discuss the EEG I was supposed to get in December. Which I didn't get because I had a skin-level staph infection, making walking into a hospital a bad idea. That alone would not have done it, but I've missed two other appointments over the years.
So there was almost-tearful pleading. Because this is the first neurologist I've had who's actually listened to me. Hell, I'm so traumatized by my experiences with my first two neurologists that I'm writing a book about the experience. So on top of my already piled-upon week, the prospect of the search for another neuro who will let me be on just the meds that allow me to mostly function sent me straight back to bed.
Doctor had already left the office, but he'll call me back tomorrow. So. I am deeply hoping that this can be resolved. Because I have enough madness with the rheumatologist.