This was a really bad morning. It started by me having to go to the Dr. to have my TB test read for the Sheriff's Office (SO). It was fine, I took the results to the SO and was told at that time that my file had been closed by psych. But I thought you said I passed my psych I inquired. Well, the psych Dr. advised that you did not disclose to him that you were on Prozac, which you did disclose on you medical report. **Sidebar, why would I tell one Dr. and not the other** Oh no, I protested I told him that was on on Sarafem (that's Prozac for those who don't know; apparently the shrink was one who didn't). No said the Detective. The Dr. said he asked you twice and you never disclosed it, but I will call him when he gets in at 9:30.
So at this point in our little story, I get back to my car, burst into tear and start to hyperventilate in the parking lot. I then drive home in this condition and wake up husband (who should get a medal by the way) in a hysterical fit. He thought I had run someone over with my car. I'm crying and still hyperventilating and he's trying to calm me down to get the story. Needless to say work was not an option.
This all occurred at 8:00am, by 10:15, the Det. called me back saying that No the Dr. was sure I didn't tell him. He took notes and indicates that I told him I was on Claritin, Allegra (two allergy pills...Hmmmm)and some other stuff that has no meaning here. To which I replied, I would never say I was on Claritin, because I'm not, I said Sarafem. But the Det, still says Sorry, I don't think he is going to change his mind.
At 10:30 the Det. calls me back and says that the Dr. want me to call him. I do and he explains that I have been the victim of a misunderstanding. When I told him I was on Sarafem, he did not know what that was and assumed I was mispronouncing Claritin. But he has since learned that Sarafem is another name for Prozac and has passed me, so sorry.
My file was reopened.
Are you fucking kidding me? Your a psychologist who prescribes meds. If you didn't know what it was, perhaps, I don't know ask me. Don't assume that I am so stupid I don't know how to pronounce the medications I'm one. Shit I told you I had a Master's degree and am close to a Doctorate. I mean at least he admitted he made a mistake, but in the mean time I'm a hysterical, crazy person practicing the words, "Do you want fries with that?"
Just for the record, I don't blame the detective for any of this, and suspect that the reason I got to talk to the shrink was because of him calling the Dr. back after the 10:15 conversation. Still I have a headache from the adrenalin and the crying. I just want this to be over and get an official job offer.