Sunday, November 15, 2009

Woe Is Me

I took Collin to the doctor's on Thursday. He was diagnosed with a severe case of Hypochondria. It really didn't surprise me, all the signs and symptoms were there. The need for a cast when his new shoes hurt his feet, the ache in his leg caused by inhaling, the pain in his neck only when the dog barked, and the sudden bouts of nausea when it came time to eat his veggies. I never had genetic counseling when I was pregnant but I'm certain this gene is carried by the men on his father's side. Should I get him a medical ID bracelet?

I tried everything to make him understand the seriousness of faking an illness. I explained how it scares his father and me when he crawls on the floor moaning and hyperventilating until dessert is served. I even told him the story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf. But he looked at me funny and said "wolves don't live 'round here". It was a lost cause.

So I packed him and his crayon-written laundry list of ailments up and headed to the doctor. And after an hour of sitting among truly ill children coughing all over us we talked to the doc. I told her my suspicions very cryptically and let her exam him. Thankfully she found him to be healthy. But she was wise enough to know that he needed to have some course of action to follow. She told him that he could wrap his foot with a bandage and prop it on a pillow at night. He was ecstatic! He felt validated and I suspect somewhat "special".

As soon as we got home I had to wrap the foot. He asked me to start the wrap a little higher on his leg so that he could show the kids at school by raising his pant leg. When I was done he sat on the edge of the bed admiring his foot. He sat up a little taller, puffed out his chest and said, "this bandage makes me feel like a man!" A man?! I'm guessing he wants a shaving kit and power tools for Christmas?

I thought for certain that this bandage was going to be part of his identity for years to come much like Michael Jackson's glove. However, when he came home from school the next day he said that the s weren't really impressed with his bum foot. And later that night he reported that his foot felt better and he didn't need the bandage any longer. Hallelujah, you are healed! ...until he gets the flu from sitting in the germ infested doctor's office.


  1. It's all making sense! When I talked to him on the phone the other day, he told me he had a broken foot and had to have a cast. When he showed up at the door a few minutes later walking normally, I was a bit confused. (He should have held out a little longer. I would have brought a plate of cookies for the poor boy!)

    P.S. Love the part about feeling like a real "man" all bandaged up!

  2. As the mother of the husband and the grandmom of the son I have to agree it is genetic-on the paternal side!