Remember my post a couple of days ago about Jammy's first day of camp? To recap, he woke up with pains in his legs and didn't want to start summer camp. I diagnosed nervousness, gave him some
mints medicine and let the excitement of camp work its magic on him. I was feeling all wise and smug and Mary Poppins and all, happy that I got him to forget his pain.
Boy, when you're wrong, you're wrong. He woke up the next day with even more pain, unable to walk normally, hobbling around like a ninety-year old cowboy. I kept asking him to point and flex his toes, convinced that he probably just had some kind of bad strain. But I took him to the doctor anyway, because what 6-year old wakes up one day unable to walk?
Turns out, a 6-year old with benign acute childhood myositis. The symptoms fit like JLo's Versace outfit -- he had just gotten over a viral illness, had stiffness in his calves and pain while walking or flexing his feet. Which is exactly what I was forcing him to do in order to "walk away the pain". Oops. Hello, mommy guilt, you are here to stay, aren't you?
So much for placebo pills. Next time I'll leave the faith healing to the shamans.
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