A Scary Story

This is a story about a pain in the leg that turned out to be a pain in the butt.

It has three parts because I have a lot to say. This makes this post much like a miniature chapter book... don't feel obligated.

Even if it was life or death. We're cool.

PART I: URGENT CARE
I had a massive cramp in the back of one of my calves on Monday (a couple of Mondays ago). It faded in and out of existence throughout the day like leg cramps often do. I had spent the weekend dancing - and the week before the weekend dancing before the dancing - That is what I do when I panic before I perform. So really, a leg cramp seemed an appropriate complaint from my body.

Until.

Until, right after dinner my leg cramp suddenly "exploded" into this warm feeling that materialized into a HUGE bruiselike mass covering my entire calf muscle right before my eyes.

This was both ugly and inconvenient.

I was not so happy about the ugliness, but worse was the fact that I had to be "concerned just in case", so I must cancel my evening of reality tv and popcorn and go to urgent care.

P.S. I am rarely in need of a doctor, but when I am it is usually after hours or on a holiday.

P.P.S. I notice that other people in need of urgent care at these times usually look and sound much worse than I do, so I am most assuredly placed on the "4-Hour Waiting Plan".

Check in : 8:18 PM
Triage Nurse: 9:30 PM
Doctor: 9:42 PM...

Hmmm.. Not bad. For urgent care. Leg must look scarier than I thought.

I prompt the doctor: (Because as I wait indefinite amounts of time surrounded by frighteningly sick people I think of things like this and feel ever so clever)

"Your line is: 'Looks like you've got quite a bruise there, but nothing serious. You are free to return to your family.'" I like my doctor visits drama-free and am just fine with going home feeling silly about having no affliction whatsoever.

Doctor (amused): "Definitely looks like you've got quite a something there. You are certainly free to go home if you choose... Of course if that is a blood clot you have there, and I am not at liberty to rule that out, the location would put you at high risk of a pulmonary embolism."

Pulmonary Embolism: When a blood clot in the leg breaks apart as you sleep and travels to your lungs, killing you. Or in this case - me.

This doctor thought he was funnier than me.
But actually that was not funny.

Doctor continues: "...The other option is that there was some trauma to the leg over the weekend that resulted in this hematoma (fancy word for big bruise) and you will be tender, but just fine... The latter is most likely, but I recommend we be sure and send you for some testing."

Anti-Climactic if you ask me. This doctor is no fun at all. And he doesn't follow a script well.

Note to self: If you must hurt yourself, please do so in a way that does not resemble anything life threatening. Highly inconvenient.

Check out - 10:15ish. With instructions to go to the hospital for a leg ultrasound.

.

PART II: The ER

10:30ish - Check in. Honestly people, the ER? Whatever.

Only now there was that teensy part of me that the doctor did worry... just a bit. A teensy nagging part that insisted I just get this over with and be sure...

10:45ish - Triage Nurse #2.
11:00ish - Doctor. The clock is getting blurry because I am tired.

I prompt the doctor: (because this went over so well the first time):

"Your line is: 'Better safe than sorry, but this is just a bruise. Time to go home.'"

Doctor: "Everything about this looks like a hematoma, but I don't like the way it came from the cramping inside. Ugh - if this is a clot - what a nightmare!"

Thanks, doc. Very reassuring.

11:15ish - Ride on the gurney to the ultrasound room. The highlight of my evening. Because I am silly like that. And also because Ultimate Fighting Championship was on TV, and the TV was high up with no locatable remote.

11:48 PM- Exact time of results. Yep, a big bad super-sized hematoma (bruise) caused by some muscle trauma suffered most likely from non-stop dancing in heels all weekend. (And the week before.)

PART III: Freedom!

A couple of hundred dollars and three and a half hours later. I didn't feel silly, just tired. And, okay, a wee bit grateful that I could go to sleep without the fear of imminent death.

For those of you who stuck with me through this entire experience I will reward you with this gem of wisdom:

Take care when answering triage questions in the ER:

Example: In ER Language, "I think I may have hurt it dancing" = "I hurt it pole dancing".

Please clarify, and save yourself the awkward (though entertaining) moment when the check-out lady says "Ohhh, you're a BALLROOM dancer. You know...that's not what I was expecting..."

12:10 AM - Check Out.

3 Weeks Later...

Healing nicely, no?
The End.