So I go up to the clinic today, armed with a folder full of scientific studies showing the benefits of LDN for people with ulcerative colitis. I'm going to try to talk the doctor into giving me a prescription. (I have the dosages, side-effects, counter-indications, compounding recipe, and even a compounding pharmacy ready to process my prescription.) I wait for an hour. (Very fast for this clinic!)
Dr. Clinic Guy askes me why I'm there. I remind him that he was supposed to refer me to the hospital for a scope and that it had been several weeks and I hadn't heard anything. He checks my file. He sees a note from the hospital: "We regret to inform you that, owing to the high volume of people requesting a referral, we are not able to provide you with a referral at this time." (<-- Pretty much verbatim.) The hospital has flat-out refused to see me. Such is the state of the health-industrial complex in glorious Canuckistan!
Dr. Clinic Guy is kind of embarrassed about this. Fortunately, the hospital has passed the hot potato to my old gastro and there's a second letter: "We regret to inform you that [Dr. Previous Gastro] is retired. [Dr. New Gastro] will be taking over his former patients." Okay, so not a total bust. Someone's holding the potato. But the letter is from over a week ago and nobody has told me anything yet; probably because they're still waiting for Dr. New Gastro to contact them.
That out of the way, I inform Dr. Clinic Guy that I'm in a lot of discomfort and would like a prescription for the inflammation/pain while I wait for my scope. He tells me, "That's not my specialty. I have no idea what to prescribe you." This might seem like a bad thing, but no. The fool has walked right into my trap! I seize my chance:
"Well," says I, "it just so happens I've been doing some research and I'd like to try this drug I've been hearing good things about..." I pull out my folder.
Instantly, Dr. Clinic Guy is vigorously shaking his head and backing away from me, like I've just produced a live cobra. "No. Nope. I can't do it. Sorry." He won't even let me talk. He doesn't want to hear about Crazy Internet Drug. I think he's actually sweating as he visualizes the ensuing complications: a dead patient, a lawsuit from my aggrieved parents, a lost medical license, staring down the barrel of a Jack Daniel's as he sits, homeless and unloved, outside an Asian Food Mart. So no dice on the LDN. But at least I tried. He directs me to an urgent care clinic all the way across town, but I doubt they'll be any more receptive than he is. The hot potato passes once again.
Anyway, I leave. I go to the library, my second home. Not 45 minutes after I've left the clinic, I get a call from Dr. New Gastro's receptionist. She sounds like she's out of breath. She's very apologetic and asks me if I'm available for an appointment over a month from now. I tell her I'll have to check my schedule, but I'll try to pencil it in. (I don't say that. I say yes.) So I'm pretty sure Dr. Clinic Guy has called them and put some pressure on them because he's afraid I'll come back with some other harebrained scheme and he's just so, so done with me. So my trek has not been a complete waste of time.
-- In Other News --
Yes, I'm being very proactive. I'm not sure if I mentioned that I was turned away for MH issues at the clinic. They don't assist in that capacity there and didn't know where to direct me. Fortunately, I found a support site online and emailed them, asking specifically how I could get an appointment with a therapist if I don't have a GP and can't get a referral. They replied with a form email with a list of links and (I **** you not) every one of the links requires a referral from a GP. Either their reading comprehension is near zero, they didn't read my email at all, or they have trolls manning the inbox.
But, undeterred, I go back to the site. This time, I open a direct chat with one of their no doubt highly trained "facilitators" (facile-a-taters?) I explain my situation a second time. Fortunately, this person is actually helpful. Mr. Facile-a-Tater provides me with a link to what appears to be a clinic for people with MH issues that accepts walk-in patients. So perhaps not all is lost on the MH front, either! I still have to contact them and find out if I can just walk in without an appointment, and how it all works, but at least I'm making progress. At this rate, I might even live to see the New Year!
For forty-seven years I've put up with it now. I must stop Christmas from coming ... but how?