The News

I tried to post this earlier, but Blogger was down...

He's fine.

Though I didn't find that out until 4:30 this afternoon-- seems his doctor was "in clinic and swamped all day today."

(Doctors never call you first thing-- it must be some unwritten rule.)

Anyhow, while anxiously awaiting his call, I decide to take the kids to see a movie.

It's the only way I can think of to stay away from the computer-- and to stop trying to will the telephone to ring.

Also -- because Joseph has the day off from school, and none of his friends are around -- I realize I have to get a grip. A distraction for me, and something fun for the kids is definitely in order.

Soooo, I take them to a matinee-- to see Flushed Away.

(Ignoring, of course, the turn-off-your-cell-phone request.)

Thus, at 1:30 this afternoon -- with popcorn, a diet soda, a box of Sno Caps and a (smuggled) reasonably-sized bag of M&Ms in hand -- Joseph, Evan and I take our seats in a nearby movie theater.

I'm doling out Sno Caps to Evan when the commercials begin-- it still irks me that they show these before the previews.

Anyhow, in mid pour I look up to see a close up of Jennifer Aniston wearing a serious expression, telling viewers of someone who "noticed a lump on her child's back." Quick cut to Robin Williams saying something about a child with severe headaches.

I know what's coming.

And there she is-- Marlo Thomas, talking about St. Jude Hospital.

About cancerous tumors.

You've got to be kidding me.

Immediately, I turn to Joseph. His eyes are opened wide and glued to the screen; his mouth, slightly open.

"Honey, I know what you're thinking. That's not the kind of tumor the doctor was talking about. Remember, your doctor said a benign tumor. That means not cancerous-- and that's not even what he thinks is going on. You have a slipped rib--nothing else."

I say these things in a firm voice-- hoping he doesn't detect even a trace of concern.

"Oh," he says, "Yeah, you're right."

Finally, the previews come on-- we talk about the ones the three of us want to see. And then watch the movie . . .

I struggle (unsuccessfully) to relax.

When we return home -- my nerves frayed -- I immediately phone his doctor's office.

An hour later, Dr. E returns my call, telling me that "Joseph's x-ray looked normal-- his rib bones looked just fine."

"Would a mass show up on the x-ray?" I ask.

"No, it wouldn't, but there was no evidence of any deterioration in the bones-- something we'd typically see if there was any sort of abnormal growth. Joseph is presenting, however, with the classic symptoms of slipped rib syndrome."

"Will this just resolve on its own?"

"It may. But there are adults who have this syndrome. They usually discover it because they feel pain when one rib rubs over another."

"Oh."

"But once they know why they're experiencing pain, they're far less concerned about it. This is really a quite benign condition."

Thank. God.

So while I'm not pleased that Joseph has yet another thing-- a potentially painful thing -- I'm relieved that he's okay.