Three years ago, I was five months into life with my first kid, starting a new part-time gig, and smack in the midst of perfecting a book proposal. I was overworked, overtired, and completely overwhelmed. And then I got sick. Not stuffy nose and sore throat kind of sick, but lie-down-on-the-floor-because-the-room-spinning-and-I-forgot-my-name sick. That’s when I realized that I didn’t have a doctor. Well, at least not one I could call at a moment’s notice.
Desperate and miserable, I remembered a friend telling me about the CVS Minute Clinic (available in 24 states and D.C.) and, fever rising, I drove directly to the nearest location and promptly passed out in the pharmacy (true). After I regained consciousness, downed a Coke, and stretched out on the exam room’s foldout table, I was tended to by not one, but two nurse practitioners. They determined the cause of my collapse (a blood-pressure drop due to some cold medication); they diagnosed me with double ear infections and a bad upper respiratory infection. Then they called my Dad (my husband was an hour away at a work meeting) to come pick me up. Prescriptions in hand, I climbed into the car and was driven home. The next day I received a call on my cell phone from the clinic making sure that I hadn’t had any more fainting spells. A week later, I received a handwritten note in the mail from the nurse practitioners, thanking me for coming in and making sure that I was feeling better. More »