I apologize to my more sensitive, conservative, conventional, delicate, touchy, guarded, traditional, demure, cautious, disciplined, reserved, innocent and unjaded readers. The title of this post is brash, and rather rude. Those that know me in real life know that I would NEVER actually drop the "F Bomb", and rarely even refer to it. I assure you all, once you read this post, you will understand why this title is 100% appropriate.
During our cross-country RV adventure, I severely sprained my ankle. At least, that was the diagnosis of the hick town ER folk about an hour and a half outside New York City. Keep in mind though, this is the same hospital that did not have have one pair of crutches for people from 5'2" - 5'10". In case you were wondering, that is the height range for the majority of people in America. After splinting my ankle, and ordering me to bear ZERO weight, they sent me back to the campground in a taxi, with a cane. Huh?!?! We got to spend the entire next day going from one medical supply store to another. We finally scored the crutches at the 3rd store. Unfortunately, they could not figure out how to bill them to our insurance. Grrr!!!
Once we made it home, some of the swelling and discoloration seemed to subside. As the time arrived for Will to go back to work, I realized that I needed to be able to drive a car. That's pretty tough in a splint. So we went out in search of a REALLY GOOD brace for my ankle. Our local Sport Chalet had just what I was looking for. It had laces, straps, elastic and velcro. What more could I ask for? Well, that was great for a few days. I could drive the car, and handle the longer walk to the potty and laundry room (it was about 3 steps to the potty in the RV). Unfortunately, the swelling, discoloration, throbbing, weakness, etc., did not subside over the past 2 weeks since we got home.
Now for a quick segue. A few days ago, Will told me that he was having an odd tingly, painful, burning sensation on his stomach. The next day, he told me that the weird feeling had spread to his back. The following day, he told me that it was in a larger area on his stomach and back, and was now traveling down his leg. What?! Well, a few months ago, Will's Dad had shingles, and the symptoms were sounding awfully familiar. I turned to my old friend "Google", and we were both even more convinced that Will, was in fact, dealing with shingles. Not only did every site confirm our suspicions, but they also resoundingly recommended that he get in to see the doctor ASAP. Dang it!
Since we acquired our new knowledge on Friday night, that left us with one reasonable optional for immediate medical care; Urgent Care. Ugh!! Since my ankle has still been an issue, Will thought we should go into the Urgent Care together. That was not my favorite plan with 5 kids in tow, but I had to admit that it did make sense. Fortunately, the Urgent Care was not slammed, and we had a fairly short wait. Our self-diagnosis of Will's shingles was immediately confirmed. Of course, the doctor had the benefit of seeing the rash that had suddenly appeared. He handed will two prescriptions and sent him on his way.
My visit was not quite so cut and dry. I thought I was just going in for a x-ray, but life is rarely that simple at our house. While the nurse was asking the standard questions, and taking my vitals, she discovered I was running a fever. I didn't even feel sick. The doctor agreed that my ankle needed to be x-rayed again, but he was for more interested in my mysterious fever. He looked me over thoroughly, and found no outward reason for me to be running a fever. The next step was peeing in a cup on my way down to the x-ray lab. Rather odd protocol for a sprained ankle, don't you think?! Anyway, the x-rays took F-O-R-E-V-E-R. There was one tech to do all the paperwork, answer the phone, and shoot and develop the x-rays. In the mean time, my 5 children were doing their best to not wiggle right out of their chairs. We did finally have one of the big kids walk up and down the hall with Grace.
Finally, the time came for us to head back upstairs to the Urgent Care. Well, some of us went upstairs. Will opted to take Grace, Justin and Kayla out to the car. The doctor had already seen the x-rays by the time we got there, and determined that I did not have a fracture. His only advice at that point was to take some strong pain pills, and follow up with my primary care doctor so she could refer me to the orthopedic doctor. Of course, there was still the matter of the fever to discuss. It turns out that the pee test was exactly what I needed to do. I had a UTI, and left the doctor's office with a prescription for antibiotics. I would have never guessed that I would end up getting no care for my ankle that day, but instead, end up leaving with meds for a completely different condition. So, like I said at the beginning of this post...WTF?
I wrote this way back when, but just realized I never posted it. It's interesting to read how frustrated I was feeling then. Now that we have had a bazillion other things go on, this doesn't seem nearly as bad as it did at the time. Thank goodness I didn't write on the blog for a while. I can only guess what other titles I might have come up with. ((blush))