This guy has spent a good deal of times in rooms like this one getting checked out for various illnesses. But every few months is a check up and let me tell you, despite appearances here to the contrary, it’s not any easier when he is feeling well to come and let the doctor have a look at him. My frequent attempts to distract him and make him laugh - including this successful “madre mía!” which always brings a grin - didn’t arrest the consistent chorus of “all done” he started chanting as soon as we left the waiting area. The worst was yet to come, Diego bawling and red-faced as the Doctor first checked him ears and then gave him his Hep A inoculation. And yet still the worst was to come - a finger-stick lead test that probably permanently made the boy hate band-aids and the sight of his own blood. Diego’s mom told me it was tough taking him to the doctor, but I went in cavalier anyhow. I came out shaken and feeling very, very sorry for a little boy who hates being touched by strangers exactly for reasons reinforced by this visit. I’m thankful for the patience of his doctor and nurses, but wow, am I ever glad we have a full year to go before heading back again.
