Wednesday, August 12, 2015

True Life: I'm a Walking Accident

When my parents were helping me move down to South Carolina I half jokingly pointed out every urgent care center and every hospital we drove by.  I say half jokingly because anyone who has known me longer than a week can probably tell you that I'm a magnet for injury; I've been put into casts twice, have knee surgery just as many times and spend a good chunk of my yearly salary on first aid related items (this is only a slight exaggeration, band-aids and gauze can get really expensive).

That being said, anyone who knows me would be surprised to hear that it took me almost a month in South Carolina before having to drag my ass to the urgent care center.  Remember that spill I took early on Sunday morning? That little (it wasn't little) fall had me in the urgent care not once, but twice in the last 3 days.

You would think that after countless cuts, scrapes, sprains, broken bones and bruises that I can handle a few flesh wounds, turns out I was working with faulty information because when I went into urgent care on Monday after work I was told that I was using too much Neosporin and it was causing my wounds to not heal.  They put me on an antibiotic, cleaned it up for me and sent me on my merry way.  All good things.

Until it wasn't so good anymore. I spent Tuesday limping around, my foot swollen and a little red, my ankle tender to the touch, then I woke up today after sleeping with it elevated and found it still swollen and red.

That's how I ended up spending 2 hours at the urgent care this afternoon.
Step 1: Get a tetanus shot because my last one was in 2007 (whoops, I should have gotten that on Monday)
Step 2: Have a nurse practitioner poke and prod by foot and ankle trying to find where it hurts (hint: everywhere)
Step 3: X-Rays because they think it might be broken (it's not, thank god)
Step 4: Get blood taken because they're worried (I'm worried too) that the antibiotic isn't working and that I'm going to have to get my food cut off (okay, so they didn't think that last part only I did but don't you dare judge me I could have been dying).
Step 5: Find out that the blood work is good and that my ankle is definitely sprained and that I should avoid too much pressure for the next few days.

Needless to say I was kicking myself for not bringing crutches down here with me, but there's nothing I can do about that now.

But here's the thing, spending all that time in the urgent care made me realize something, I really am an adult now, at least in the independence aspect of it.  I had to go pick up my own prescription, I had to make my own appointment (yes urgent care takes appointments) and I have to get better all on my own.  Sure, I can call my mom and tell her what's happening everyday but she can't fix it for me anymore.  Adulting for the win (not really).

My word of the day today is unbridled, uncontrolled or untrained.

I won't say that I have an unbridled joy for adulthood but I do have an unbridled gratitude for the staff at the Immediate Care Center on East Main Street in Spartanburg, South Carolina.  That team of nurses, nurse practitioners and doctors work like a well oiled machine and I can honestly say that it's the best immediate care center that I've been to (I know these things, I was a frequent flyer in Buffalo as both patient and driver).

I want to end with one last thing, the caregivers at the center I went to really go out of their way to take care of the patients both physically but also emotionally.  They should serve as a model of health communication done right.  10/10 would go to again (let'shonest, knowingwing my track record I'll be back by December but hey fingers crossed, maybe I'll finally grow into my limbs).

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