In Which I Screw Up

[moon_custafer]

So, yesterday I went to get some of green_trilobite's meds refilled. (cut for griping about my life)

For those in the U.S., Canada covers major medical, but not prescription medication or dentistry. We're on a provincial program that covers our prescriptions, but the deductible is a few hundred dollars, and it resets every August 1, so right now we're in the part of the year where I have to pay for stuff.

One of green_trilobite's psych meds is *very* expensive, and it brought the bill up to never-mind-what. While I was wondering how long it'd take me to get this new weight off my credit card, I got home and learned the bill for some electrical work we'd had done last week had come to about twice what green_trilobite had thought it would.

We agreed to cancel our dentist appointments next week.

Today I actually told him the amount I'd paid for the pills, and as I did so I thought, well, his doctor's appointment is a couple of weeks from now -- I should've held off and seen if we could get some of the expensive pills as samples, which he's been happy to do in the past. But now it's too late -- the pharmacist has confirmed I can't return the pills - or rather, I can, but legally he'd be required to just throw 'em out; so I doubt I could get the money back, and it would probably be immoral to ask for it back.

So the grievous part is that green_trilobite feels *he's* the one to blame for all this -- because he's on meds. I'm feeling rotten, and at the same time I have to be the human straitjacket to stop him from literally beating himself up over it. He wishes he were dead. He berates the meds, and our GP, and the pills that never really seem to make him any better.

I try to convince him it was my call: "Pretend I splurged on something stupid, but I'll pay it off. Pretend I just went out and bought myself a fur coat, or something."
"But you wouldn't do something like that."
"No, I do stupid things when I'm trying to be clever and responsible."

Then he said we should call off his birthday party on Saturday, because he doesn't deserve it.

"Yes you do, and you need it. I need it. Look, we agreed this is my birthday too, now. And I want a party. and I want you there."

And then five minutes later he's happily chatting on the phone with friends, like nothing happened; nothing to do with anything I said, mind you. I wish I could distract him from his woes effectively and reliably. The best I can do is go "hey look at that cute thing the cat is doing."

Comments

[donald hutton (from livejournal.com)]

I wish to comment in more detail but don't have the time right now (must be off to feed Dee's fluffy kitties before the busses shutdown) but a quick note to say that I think a better title is "In Which I Supply Awesome Levels Of Support To My Spouse".

[redeem147.livejournal.com]

Wish there was a 'like' button.