My daughter, Indy, had a hard fall at the playground over the weekend. I could tell her shoulder was in pain and couldn’t wait for a regular pediatrician appointment on Monday. And that meant we had to turn to a solution that filled me with dread: urgent care. That’s because Indy is autistic, and places like an urgent care office can be a total minefield. She doesn’t do well in new environments, with new care providers — she gets really scared — and on top of that, these places are sure to cause sensory overload.

Knowing how difficult this visit would inevitably be for Indy, we couldn’t just pop into the nearest clinic. We needed to find a practice with providers who are experienced in working with young kids, preferably kids on the spectrum, and who can be very patient, which isn’t always easy in a chaotic environment like urgent care.

My husband and I did some quick Google searching and found three urgent cares nearby. But we didn’t feel confident that they’d be right for our situation. Based on past doctor visits with Indy, we knew we needed, at the absolute minimum, a clinic with a dedicated pediatrician.

We combed through reviews of clinics to see if there were any red flags and found pediatric urgent care office with X-ray equipment about 30 minutes away. Before heading that way, I called the office to ensure they were prepared for Indy’s visit.

Knowing Indy’s triggers and knowing she’d likely get very overwhelmed with getting her chest and shoulder scanned with an X-ray machine, my husband and I agreed this was a two-parent job. Unfortunately, this happened on a Saturday, which meant our 8-year-old was home too. We had no emergency childcare, so we had no choice but to bring our older daughter along, knowing we’d have to cram all four of us into an exam room.

We have built a good dynamic where we can tag team during high-stress situations. We’ve learned patience is non-negotiable, and it’s tough to stay patient when your kid is screaming and thrashing because they don’t want to do something and you are trying to have a conversation with a doctor. My older kid is also aware of her sister’s triggers and cues, and thankfully, we have found a way to all work together to support Indy.

I’m happy and relieved to say that when the doctor came in to do the exam, he was so patient and kind. Seeing how great he was with her, we were glad we’d made the calls to find an appropriate doctor, even though it meant driving distance. He ordered an X-ray of her clavicle.

I was stressed because I didn’t know how to convince Indy to sit for the images. X-ray rooms are dark, and the lights are very bright and intimidating.

Indy was not enthused about it, and the usual narrative of “It’s so cool, you’ll get to see your bones!” did not put her at ease, because she somehow took that to mean the machine would turn her into a skeleton. In hindsight, this response is so cute, but the resulting meltdown was anything but.

It took 20 minutes for the X-ray techs and me to get Indy calmed down enough to get three pictures of her collarbone. For every position they wanted her in, I had to demonstrate first, assuring her, “Look, all you have to do is stand just like this!” and “Laying on the table isn’t scary; watch me do it!” Ultimately, they got everything they needed, and the doctor confirmed Indy had a fractured collarbone, but it was neither a quick nor easy process. She’d be in a sling for three weeks, and we’d need to follow up with an orthopedic specialist for more X-rays.

By the end of the visit, I was physically, mentally, and emotionally spent. I was also left with the nagging thoughts of comparison. I don’t think this experience would have been easy for anyone. Still, I can’t deny the envy I feel for parents who can just pop into the nearest urgent care and get their kid an X-ray without feeling like they’re walking in a minefield, trying to avoid an explosion with every step.

I’m grateful for how wonderfully the staff treated Indy, making sure she felt safe and comfortable. The extra steps we took to find a pediatric practice and let them know what to expect before our arrival were definitely worth it. Still, it’s an experience I hope I don’t have to repeat any time soon (or, ideally, ever).

Ashley Ziegler is a freelance writer living outside Raleigh, NC, with her two young daughters and husband. She’s written across a range of topics throughout her career but especially loves covering all things pregnancy, parenting, lifestyle, advocacy, and maternal health.