It's been a craptastic 24 hours. Since I was about 10, I've had athlete's foot on and off. I didn't realize what it was (it rarely itched) until I was 25 and it spread to my toenails. As far as I know, I've never given it to anyone close to me. And yet I worry, oh how I worry. To the point that two promising relationships bit the dust over the last 5 years because I spent so much time angsting about my damn toenail (only one remains infected).
In a flash of (OCD inspired) brilliance, I decided on Friday that I MUST bite the bullet and take the oral medication that mostly gets rid of toenail fungus. Like, right that instant. Like, I couldn't wait to work within my medical system, I must visit urgent care. Where I encountered numerous people with coughs and fevers, and my very very favorite, the teenager whose mom walked behind her with a large kitchen pot, should she need to vomit.
The first urgent care facility (where I paid cash) gave me a prescription, but I got home and realized it wasn't the most recommended treatment. So I went to another (at least covered by my insurance). No dice, they directed me back to my primary care provider. So at this point, I've spent $200 and 6 hours and have accomplished only a light coating of germs.
Cut to today, where call the first provider back and insist that they change the prescription. At first they refuse, but I whine so profusely, they give in. The prescription is a generic and costs only $6! I skipped the whole part where I dragged my poor dad (a retired physician with my health plan) into the mix. Oh, and my run in with online medical consults. At one point, my dad said, "can you stop and consider for a moment that this isn't an emergency, and that you really can wait until Monday?" I said, "NO!" I feel rotten just thinking about that. I knew it wasn't true, but it felt SO IMPORTANT at that moment to get it resolved.
So, yeah, maybe not as far along as I sometimes feel.
On the plus side, as I always do, when I get disgusted at myself for doing these things, I up the exposure ante. In the last 24 hours, I used the restroom at a medical facility, as well as a grocery store frequented by homeless people. In neither case did I use a paper towel to open the door. At the store, I proceeded to buy groceries, and ate some snacks while sitting in the car. I really really want to beat the fear of the public restroom, since it's so limiting to social activities.
So there you have it. After a mere $260 and 10 hours, I have 45 pills that just may destroy my liver. Perfect.
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