Feeling stupid

I'm going to tell you this as if it happened today when in truth it happened last Thursday, although the embarrassment and stupidity I felt still lingers. Thursday morning I had an appointment with my new neurologist, a rather important appointment, thus. I live about 1.3 miles from the doctor's office and had decided to take the bus, a mode of transport I have not yet used in my 42 years of life. I could have driven my husband to work at 4 a.m. (1/2 an hour from here), or borrowed a car from my mother in law, or even asked my best friend to take me, but that all seemed silly, I mean it's only a mile for goodness sakes, and I'm a fairly independent woman, or at least I used to be.
To say I have sleep problems would be saying that the fact I have not slept yet and it is 8 a.m. is normal. This normal occurrence, for me, is especially true the night before a doctor's appointment, as I am always afraid I won't wake up in time. This particular Wednesday night / Thursday morning was no exception. About 5 a.m. I realized I may be having more problems than the normal, and should have taken a xanax earlier. By 7 a.m. I was in full on panic attack mode at the thought of taking the bus. I'm only traveling on the bus roughly 5 minutes, but how do I let the bus driver know when I want to get off? The bus is not like the subway, it doesn't stop at EVERY location. My husband tells me there is a cord to pull. Ok, I can pull a cord, but when do I pull it? He tells me after the previous stop to when I want to get off. How do I know when I'm at the stop prior to the one I want?
Truthfully, I can't believe I'm writing this down, sharing it, putting it out there for the entire world to read. I was in one of the worst panic attacks of my entire life over a bus ride. I couldn't breathe, I started vomiting. I had to call the doctor and reschedule. Like I said I still feel extremely embarrassed, stupid, and even ashamed.
To make matters more absurd, and this may surprise you, I used to be a pilot. A single engine, and multi engine pilot. Not only could I fly, I was licensed to teach OTHERS to fly.
I have an appointment with my regular doctor this Thursday. Trust me when I say I already have my best friend lined up to take me and I also have my husband lined up for a "bus lesson". Yes, a bus lesson. He will take me on the bus, we will ride it to where I need to get off for the doctor's offices, then get back on where I will catch it home. I'm terrified. The funny thing is I was sooooo excited about the bus and the new found freedom I could have (I found the route to the mall and I don't even have to change buses :) ), oh well, maybe someday! (or maybe someday I can convince my husband I do have good enough balance for a pink scooter!!)

Bipolar / Fibromyalgia Roller Coaster

Last Thursday I realized I was out of cymbalta. I knew that I was getting closer and had checked at the medical center with the prescription assistance program to pick up my refill while I was there to see my Dr. Unfortunately the woman, Sheila, who works in that department was out. I assumed her department was closed on Friday and decided I would pick my meds up on Monday. I am lucky enough to get free medication through Lilly Cares. I was under the impression that the medicine was automatically sent to my Dr, or in this case, the prescription assistance department at our medical center so I could just go pick it up. 
Monday morning 9 am I called Sheila in the prescription assistance program at Watson Clinic here in Lakeland. Sheila informed me she doesn't have anything for me, she didn't give me my last supply 4 months ago (funny because that is where we picked it up). So I called the nurse at Dr Estupinan's office. She said I needed to call and speak to Sheila, I explained that I already did. She told me to call her again because the doctor's office is not responsible for prescription assistance, so I called Sheila again who told me I am not her patient, not her responsibility. 
I called Dr Estupinan's office back. Spoke with the nurse again, she said though they do not get involved in prescription assistance normally she would call Sheila. In the meantime she could call me in a prescription to my pharmacy. So, I went to Target, waited 45 minutes for the pharmacist to come back from lunch and sign off on the prescription, and was given a bill for $135. If I had $135 for a month prescription I would not be getting free medication from the manufacturer.
Fri / Saturday I was up for 36 hours and slightly manic. Then slept about 24 hours on and off with the help of xanax. Monday up again another 36 hours. My husband came home to find me sitting in the closet. I don't know why, I started out cleaning it but when he got home I was just sitting there opening and closing the snap on this little purse over and over. Then the shit really hit the fan. Off to Walmart at 2 a.m. to pick up new work boots and gloves for my hubby, he had a hole in his. I picked up some travel size containers and some containers for my chocolate body scrub, plus some fantastic pink tissue paper with polka dots and black gift bags for the bachelorette party. I came home, made the "hangover kit" bags to go in the gift bags and the "barf bags" (for cookie tossin) that go in the hangover kits. Then I put the gift bags together. Made some necklaces for prizes. And, waited for 9 am to run to Joann's to get bobbins for my sewing machine, and to Michael's to get spray glue. 
I finally fell asleep about noon with the help of more xanax. I woke up about 9 pm to a major fibromyalgia flare. EXTREME PAIN AND EXHAUSTION. 
24 hours ago I couldn't stop functioning now I can't move. But, I can't sleep. My insides are bouncing off the walls while my "outside" is on a pain scale of 1 to 10 at least a 9.5. The worst thing is I know as soon as the fibro flare settles down I am going to be manic again, then flare again, then manic again. Is this what hell is like?
You can not simply go off a medication like cymbalta. The nurse won't take responsibility, Sheila won't take responsibility. I am going to call today at 9 am someone better have gotten off their ass or I'm calling my disability lawyer. Maybe they can help. Because I am freakin miserable.