Sunday, March 18, 2012

In which I do the walk of shame out of the ER.

Alternate titles:
It wouldn't be spring break if I was healthy -or- I can't let my dog be the only one receiving unnecessary emergency medical treatment. 

Oh, y'all.
Y'all, Y'all, Y'all.

If I said it has been a long day, I would be lying, because y''s been a long-ass Sunday afternoon. It should also be noted that I just took a muscle relaxer for the first time ever, so should I start blubbering like Molly Ringwald's sister, you'll understand.But don't you worry, because I will not hit delete and will hit publish so this should be fun for all.

And the Sixteen Candles reference? You're welcome.

So, as I've explained to two ER nurses, an ER doctor, my mother, and possibly the Target pharmacist filling my prescription, I did something unspeakable to my back today and ended up in the ER. The problem is that I don't quite know what I did to my back.

Now some of you readers saw me this morning at church and I did not appear to need a visit to the ER, and when I was standing in church singing and my back was a little uncomfortable, I simply thought I needed to change shoes as my cowboy boots are not very spinally supportive.

So, I went to lunch and then began to head home, with a little bit of soreness in my back. By the time I went to leave my car and go into my apartment, it hurt a lot and I had to hobble in to the apartment and go straight to the drawer containing the Advil and try to refrain from taking all of it.

Then, I went to heat up the heating pad and call The Aunt, my resident medical director, and everything came apart. I was standing in the kitchen leaning over the kitchen sink, and my back just started hurting so bad every which way that I moved. I was trying to talk to The Aunt and fell to my knees crying. Now I have a pretty high tolerance for pain and a slim to zero freak out reference and I could not get up off of my kitchen floor because of the pain that was causing me to cry big alligator tears. My medical director advised me to get this taken care of immediately, so I called The Mom to come and get me and take me to the ER.

After trying to determine which place to go (Rapid Med = $30 copay and 2.5 hour wait or ER = 5x the copay and no wait), we went to the local brand new hospital's ER. There are a couple of free-standing ERs in the area, but if I'm paying a whole bunch of money, I'm calling in the big guns: hospital ER.

At this point, it's about an hour after I took the Advil, and while I'm still in pain, I'm not crying anymore and I am walking around, be it ever so slowly. They admitted me, telling me I did all the right things with the Advil and the ice and such, and sent me to a room to change into the pur-tee-ist open-backed gown ever. They gave me a fancy bracelet and hooked me up to the little finger thing to make sure my pulse didn't drop or spike.(Don't I sound like a bona fide doctor in describing this?)

And then after I'd already told my story three different times, they sent in the ER doctor and I got to tell it again. (By the way, I can already tell the relaxers are kicking in because I'm adding random words and letters to this story. I'll stop deleting them now, but know why I don't make sense...)

The doctor did a neuro assessment and made sure my feelings were still present in my toes and legs and such, and then said it was probably a pulled muscle or pinched nerve and she would give me a prescription and I could go home.

Seriously? That's it?

Yes, an hour later I paid the $150 for them to tell me I had a pulled muscle and for a prescription for a muscle relaxer.

And I walked the walk of shame out of there.

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