I've been to the Danbury Hospital Emergency Room more than any human should have to endure.  As a family, we've tested their skills in a variety of ways and have found them often competent. But a girl could bleed to death waiting for treatment.  Or worse, a mom could be trapped trying to manage three kids, one injured, one starving, another bored in a waiting room that isn't comfortable or clean. Try asking "How long is the wait?" They'll act like you're challenging them with a great mystery of life that no one can answer, like when will Sarah Palin shut up?

On Wednesday, the Adventurer (age 11) took a bad fall. She slipped on the wet pavement at WMS running full speed to catch the bus.  When I picked her up at the bus stop, she could barely walk. Her knee was swelling; she couldn't put her weight on it or straighten her leg.

So, we iced it, I consulted Doc Google, then called the real doctor, who said we should go to the ER or Urgent Care to get treated. She informed me that Urgent Care does x-rays and sets bones if needed.

I arrived at Urgent Care of Brookfield in the pouring rain with three dripping wet kids — one injured, one very hungry and one bored — and now I'm completely spoiled.

The waiting area was spotless and comfortable. The staff was not just polite, they were kind and pleasant. They didn't scowl at me when the girls started screaming at each other, fighting over a DSi game. We waited 10 minutes, if that long. We were brought into a private examination room. The doctor was terrific with my oldest daughter and didn't mind at all when the Princess (age three) swiped his rolling chair to go for a spin and use as a ladder.

I've been to ERs all over the place, because I'm lucky like that. Danbury Hospital's ER isn't the worst, but that's because I've visited hospitals in places like Utica, NY. It certainly isn't the best. We recently had to visit the luxurious Greenwich Hospital. The Butterfly (age seven) lit up upon entering the lobby saying, "It's a beautiful mall!"  

I think Danbury's ER needs work, because I always feel like a lab rat. We're ushered into a little curtained area and no one tells me anything. Then we wait. And wait. We listen to the people next to us being treated, which is disgusting. Someone comes in and pokes me, or asks me a question, or hooks me up to a machine without telling me why, then leaves. They don't bother identifying themselves. I eventually search for a nurse because they forget we're there. It's typically a four hour ordeal.

Anyway, it turns out that the Adventurer sprained her knee and will be just fine, but perhaps not in time to dance in 'Tis the Season this weekend. We were in and out of Urgent Care in less than an hour. What more could a mom ask for? Fresh cookies and coffee in the lobby maybe?

So the next time one of my kids falls out of a tree, off of a horse, rams her head into a kitchen counter at full speed, gets attacked by the opossum that has taken up residence on our deck or just knows she has strep throat at 4 p.m. on Saturday, I'll take her to Urgent Care. 

I suggest you do the same. You can thank me later.