Adventures in Urgent Care

Last night, as the evening wore on, I could feel myself slipping from the icky "I think I have a cold" into the "Ugh. I am really sick." So I dutifully took NyQuil, slid into bed at the earliest possible moment, and snoozed most of the night away (less the few times I had to wake up to blow my nose because it was so full of grossness that it worked its way through NyQuil induced sleep. Yeah, I know, gross.)

This morning, upon trying to call out to the kiddo that mommy was coming, I realized that I had no voice. Zero. Zip. Zilch. And also? I couldn't really breathe. And my throat hurt. And my ears. And I was sick.

Of course, this would be the day I was going to meet my friend Michelle for lunch so the kiddos could play and we could hang out. Seeing as I would like to keep her as my friend, I canceled. (Plus, I really wasn't going to be much of an active participant in any conversation unless she just wanted to watch my mouth move and guess at what I might be saying. Who knows, that might've been fun.) This is an incredible bummer not only because I enjoy getting a chance to see her, but she was bringing me her latest book. Signed, even! *le sigh*

Anyway, I decided to try and do the responsible adult thing and go to the doctor. My doctor's office was full all day - and honestly, I'm not sure I would've been thrilled to go there anyway, because anytime you go there, you wait. And wait. And wait. I'm pretty sure you could die in the waiting room and it would take them six hours to notice. So, I decided to hit up the urgent care that my sister raves about.

(Yes, raves. Which I know is silly - because really, who raves about an urgent care? Now you know the answer: My sister.)

So, I bundled up the kiddo and my sister came and took me down to the urgent care. Then she and the kiddo were going to go to Wal-Mart and then come back and get me. I was pretty psyched because there was no one in the waiting room. So I signed in and sat down. And then they called my name.

"Ma'am? We don't take your insurance."

"Um. Ok."

"You can self pay if you like. It's $75."

"Sure, I'll do that."

"Except our credit card machine isn't working. Do you have cash?"

At which point I rolled my eyes, thanked them for their time, and called my sister. Handily, they had not yet made it to Wal-Mart and had stopped instead at the little play park at the end of the shopping center. So I dragged myself down there and we tried to call my doctor again to see if there was any chance of getting in.

They put us on hold.

For five minutes.

Then we hung up.

So, my sister had the brilliant idea to try the minute clinic at CVS. Of course! SO...we toodled off that direction and she and the kiddo waited in the car and I said, "I'll be back as fast as I can." I made my way back to the Minute Clinic only to find that my words were quite prophetic, because it was 11:31 and the clinic doctor was on their mandatory 2 hour lunch break. Did I want to wait or come back? And so I was back to the car almost before I left.

I told my sister to just take me home and I would suck it up. She said, no, no, there were other urgent cares nearby. And I grumbled and fastened my seat belt. She did strange and magical things on her iPhone (I don't have an iPhone, so I just have to be jealous of hers) and called another nearby-ish clinic, ascertained that they did, in fact, take my insurance, and we were off.

This time as I got out I said, "I'll try to be back quickly, but not so quickly that it means they didn't see me."

It was another happy day though, because yet again there was no one in the waiting room. So I coughed my way through the paperwork and in short order was taken back where I was poked and swabbed and made to breathe into a tube so that a cartoon fireman on the computer would have a large (they hoped) quantity of water gush forth from his hose and put out the cartoon fire based on my lung capacity. The nurse said, "Wow. No one ever gets the fire all the way out the first time." So at least I know I have good lungs.

The doctor was nice. Though he called me "dear" and that always annoys me. Tim sometimes calls me dear, but only when he's ticked off. And it's in this snotty tone of voice. So now I pretty much hate being called dear, even if it's in a nice tone of voice by a doctor who is most likely younger than I am.

At the end of the day, they determined I have bronchitis (which really just means some unspecified slight wheezing and sinus crud), gave me a z-pack and an on site breathing treatment (which has left me feeling incredibly jittery) (oh, and I got to make the fireman put the fire out again after the breathing treatment...only they forgot to turn on his water so he just stood there looking forlorn) and sent me on my way. They did a rapid strep test as well as a swab that they'll send off. They didn't say anything about the rapid test, so I'm guessing it was fine. And it feels like they left part of the swab in my throat, no matter how much water I drink. Bleh.

Then my sister fed me and the kiddo and took us home. I've put the little one to bed (though I hear him rustling about) and am about to go do the same with myself. Because although I feel like I could crawl out of my skin, I'm also rather tired.

Going to 3 doctors in one day will do that to you, I guess.