There he sits, over there near the window. He looks a bit pale and not full of vim and vinegar as they say. We had some tests done last week and the doctor wants to run some more next week. In the meantime, he tells us to humor the boy and give him what he wants. Don’t force him to eat anything he doesn’t want to eat and try to keep him as calm as possible. They don’t know what the problem is, but they know that he needs to be cared for and we plan to do just that. After all, we love him and want him to be happy. If only we could find out what is wrong with him. We ask, but all he does is mumble and play with that damned iPhone, telling us he needs to keep up with what’s going on with his friends. Sometimes I just wish we could snatch that thing and throw it in the garbage. But I suspect he would be right in there after it! Sick or not sick, he always has that thing in his hand and pretty much ignores us. But we love him and the doctor say to do what he wants so we will continue to humor him.
The patient, of course, is America’s child. And he is not physically sick, but whatever the problem is we aren’t going to solve it by humoring him.