First, the good news.
I have enough methyphenidate for another five days, and may be in the process of resolving another SNAFU with both getting the legally-required authorization properly processed and satisfying the paper-shuffling needs of every organization involved.
The very frustrating news is that something happened this time, which resulted in this household getting a robocall which may or may not have originated with one of the aforementioned organizations.
Back to good news: it’s been a bit over a year and a half since getting this prescription filled involved either a bureaucratic mess or a serious supply issue.
That really is good news. But at the moment, sorting this month’s mess out — trying to, at any rate — has already taken nearly two hours. And, as of early afternoon this Monday, still has not been untangled.
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The need for a legally-required authorization involves methylphenidate being a “controlled substance”, which reflects concerns which have some merit.
I also think that the frustration I’m dealing with this week, although coming from reasonable concerns, is also rooted in sincerely-felt paranoia and panic going back at least to the 1930s.
I’ve talked about the controlled substances act, “Reefer Madness”, “Captain Planet”, and perceptions — and my monthly prescription saga — before:
- “Prescription Quest: Another Month‘s Epic Saga”
(September 9, 2023)
