I had a serious work-related back injury a dozen years ago, and every so often it flares up. I had spent several days on my BFF's farm helping her burn brush -- cutting up thicker trunks and hauling them to the fire, splitting firewood, etc. Work I wasn't used to. My back pain flared up and doing all of the usual things didn't help. So I decided to walk it off. Alice wanted to walk through the new Christmas lights display in her small town's park. After about five minutes, the pain was excruciating and, worse, I couldn't walk straight. Alice drove me to urgent care.
They did an exam and X-rays and all the things they usually do in Urgent Care, and then the NP asked me what I wanted for pain. She listed several narcotics and waited for my answer. She was absolutely flabbergasted when I replied "Actually, I thought you'd give me a prescription for Physical Therapy." She recovered quickly and wrote me the script for PT, AND she wrote me for 20 Vicodin tablets and muscle relaxers. After I got dressed again and was walking out of the clinic, I heard a couple of employees saying as I passed, "There's the lady that asked for a PT prescription!"
Later, Alice told me that there's a really big prescription drug problem in her area.