Thanksgiving night, I lose my balance (give me a break, my center of gravity is a little off these…read moredays!), topple, and essentially jam the hell out of the thumb on my right hand.
Ow. Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW.
My husband, a firefighter/paramedic, took one look at my thumb and noticed my obvious lack of range of motion, and decreed an x-ray was in my future. Sigh. An x-ray. At, like, 8 PM on Thanksgiving? An ER visit. Really? I wasn't feeling it. Like, at all.
The pain was pretty intense (and trust me, my tolerance is higher than most) so I packed up and headed to Ingalls despite my reservation about urgent aid-like places. From the moment I arrived until the moment I left, the visit was smooth sailing. Color me impressed.
Registration was a breeze (even though I'm right handed and my writing was, well, a little sloppy, to say the least). The nurses were great, the x-ray tech was fabulous (she double gowned me--something I greatly appreciated as I was 28 weeks pregnant at the time), the ER doc was gentle and proficient and explained everything very, very thoroughly. While the x-ray was clean (YAY for no broken bones!), the odds of a torn ligament were very, very high. The nurses braced me up and the doctor sent me off with a referral for an ortho in the area for an MRI if I wasn't entirely pain-free in a reasonable amount of time. Start to finish as far as time spent at said urgent aid facility? Roughly one hour. ONE HOUR, people. I was anticipating three times as long. Coupled with the amazing staff, quality of care received, cleanliness, etc.? I am a fan indeed.
Ingalls Urgent Aid Family Care Center, you are full of win, my friend.