Wednesday night at the urgent care is where it's at

I just couldn't stay away. I didn't go over the holidays but last night I found myself at an Urgent Care, waiting to get a chest x-ray. Fun stuff.

That pulled muscle from December? From the chest cold in November? Well, after it got better it got worse. And then this week, way worse. I saw my acupuncturist on Tuesday and she wasn't psyched about my progress. After my treatment, I felt better but then? Then yesterday I strapped on my fast runners and headed out...on a walk. Walking down the block and talking with Angela, I turned the corner, and bam! Lost my breath. Like had to stop talking, stop walking, and stand next to the apartment dumpster, next to the neighbors' gardeners, and try to breath. Hand on my side, hand on my chest. And silly me, once I caught my breath, I kept going.

We walked less than an hour. To Rite-Aid. We walked slowly but we walked up and down a teeny tiny incline which at the time seemed like Everest. We walked less than two miles but it seemed like an Iron Man adventure. I have never felt quite so out of breath. Well, that's not true. Remember the time I found out I was allergic to penicillin the hard way? That might have been worse. Less side pain but worse.

My acupuncturist/fabulous friend who loves me and takes awesome care of me texted shortly after and when I begrudgingly admitted to the walking episode she said it might be time for an x-ray. So I pulled out my shiny new Medi-Cal card and followed the directions for finding an urgent care. I made a call, was directed somewhere else, to a woman who seemed to be new at life, and then found out the urgent care Medi-Cal had directed me to didn't take Medi-Cal. They'll be hearing from me soon, trust me on this one.

So off we went to a private Urgent Care. In a shiny new-ish building that was clean and had a smiling receptionist and that got me seen, x-rayed, and headed home in less than two hours. For a very reasonable fee. The best news?

No punctured lung like we feared. No broken rib like we feared. No pneumonia or infection like we feared. The bad news?

A strained abdominal wall. And the discharge directions? Rest. Yeah. Fabulous.

So today I have moved slowly between my desk chair and the couch. Tomorrow I will do the same. I'll hold off exercising for a while. I'll take more steps around the house, gingerly. I'll will myself to heal. Pray myself to heal. Beg myself to heal.

But mostly? I'm grateful that in the scheme of things, this is just a little extra sprinkle of the bad and really, not horrible. I'll try to remember that in between pain pills.