So, I went to the doctor today. For my hand.
Let me back that up.
It lessened the discomfort for sure, but ace bandages irritate the hell out of my skin. Pain is preferable to wanting to claw my skin off, I’ve discovered.
So, in search of a splint I went out and turned up empty handed. I found the splint I thought I needed (assuming I have a hairline fracture) online. Why, why, why can’t any of these stores carry it?
Fine, I’ll go to the urgent care, get an x-ray, and hopefully get a splint. They’ll have splints, right?
I stopped by the first urgent care in our town.
“We don’t take Aetna insurance. But you can pay out of pocket, if you want,” the lady at the front desk told me.
So I went to the other urgent care. And they aren’t open on Wednesdays.
I called my husband. “Are you happy? I tried going to not only one doctor, but two! And it was a waste of time!”
After a bit of back and forth, he convinced me to go to the urgent care about an hour away. He then pointed out that I could wait to see my primary care doc tomorrow after I griped about the time, but I was like whatever. I was determined to get shit handled today.
So I drove up there, signed in, and was given this:
I smirked when the lady up front handed me this. Surely they weren’t calling people back by numbers, like the freaking DMV?
Surely, I was wrong.
“Yellow #2, you’re up!” a nurse called, and a person with a yellow card that had the number two on it stood up. White was for a doctor visit, yellow was a nurse visit, and pink was emergency.
So I waited a little while and the voice came “…18!” I assume she said “white” and I just didn’t hear it. After I went back, I let the nurse know what was up and then the doctor came back.
“Wow! Those knuckles are really pink!” she said while examining them, referring to the second and third fingers (or first and second, I can’t remember if the thumb counts as one), plus noted some swelling.
I did the x-ray and had to do basically gang signs for the technician, which I pointed out. The technician wasn’t amused.
The doctor came back shortly thereafter. “Good news, no break! I don’t know what’s wrong with your hand, but maybe it’s a deep bruise?” she asked.
“Maybe a hairline fracture that didn’t show up?” I counter questioned.
“Probably!” she said very perkily. “Don’t worry about it though, I’ll give you some Tramadol and it’ll be fine in a few days.”
“Would a splint possibly help?” I asked, knowing it would. I had done my reading.
“Um…it could, but you don’t have to use one.” In other words, I wouldn’t be getting a decent splint from there. “Just take the pain medication, and you’ll feel fine!”
All righty, then.