Thanks for asking

‘What is wrong with you?’
A simple question asked by a small, simple child.
I smile to myself at the horror on his mother’s face. With a quick aside to let her know that all is well, I choose my words carefully.
‘Some of the parts of my body don’t work very well. My tummy and my lungs don’t do what they’re meant to do and so I have to take tablets.’
The little boy’s eyes open wider. Perhaps in amazement, perhaps in understanding, perhaps because he enjoys shocking his mother. I guess I’ll never know.
‘And the tablets will make you better?’
I smile again, this time a slightly sadder smile. Oh, to have the faith of a child.
‘They’ll help. They help my body to work properly.’
‘So you’ll be ok then?’
Yes, small child, I’ll be ok. Maybe not in the way you meant. But I’ll be ok.
Thanks for asking.

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