Tom’s back was hurting throughout the day, and by late afternoon he could barely move. He isn’t one to complain much (or admit to being in pain) so I could tell it was serious when he was wincing and gritting his teeth. (He originally hurt his back during a workout earlier in the week, and it got progressively worse.)
I told him I’d much rather go to the ER at dinnertime than having him wait and decide he wants to go at 3am…so we waited for the boy to get up from his nap (only about 15 minutes), fed him, and we were on our way shortly after 6. Of course, I had packed a crapload of stuff, assuming we’d be waiting in the ER forever (all I know from past experiences). Imagine my surprise when I dropped Tom off—and by the time I had parked (about 40′ away), loaded the baby, and walked inside, he was already being triaged!
After the entrance info was taken care of, we only had to wait about two minutes for him to be called in to see the doctor! I couldn’t go with him because I had the baby, so I waited for him. Owen did really well—I only had to push him around the waiting room a few times to keep him happy! Then Tom texted me from across the hospital, giving me status updates!
I wasn’t really watching the clock, but was amazed at how quickly everything was happening! Then he was texting the diagnosis (“Ligament injury they said it is swollen”) and then he said he was done and just waiting for drugs!
All in all, we were in and out in just about an hour. AN HOUR!! We got there about 6:15ish and were walking out about 7:20! AMAZING! (I guess that new multi-million dollar Emergency Center Expansion was worthwhile after all!)
The sad part? They can’t fill prescriptions there, so we had to find a 24-hour pharmacy (since it was 7:30 on a Sunday night)! Our normal Walgreens isn’t 24-hour, and we wanted to keep all our scripts there, so we had to drive to Royal Oak. It’s only a few extra miles, but around here that takes some time. So, it took us longer to drive there, wait, and drive home than it did for the entire ER visit!
Tom was loving the drugs (Vicodin and Percoset). He was eventually feeling REALLY good (pain, what pain?) and I made him an ice pack when we got home. I asked if he was going to stay home and of course, he wasn’t. (You know the drill, the recruiting office will go up in flames if he isn’t there, LOL.) He did promise that if the pain got unbearable he’d come home.
Ironically, it was almost six months to the day of the last time we were at the hospital—for the birth of the boy!