My nephew's trip to the doctor

My 9-year-old nephew spent Monday morning consulting a pediatric neurologist, who examined him and his MRI and proclaimed that his headaches are migraines. This is a relief, since I have both migraines and an active imagination and was terrifying myself with visions of much more serious maladies.

The trick from here on out is to convince him to pop a pill, no matter where he is, at the first sign of headache pain. For my little nephew is at heart a man of action who waits until the very last moment to interrupt whatever he's doing to pee. It's going to be hard for him to stop his fun to look for a water fountain and swallow a pill.

I'm grateful that we have a final diagnosis on the headaches and that it is, all things considered, a positive one. I'm also grateful that he had no idea how bad it could be -- his biggest concern about spending the morning with a neurologist was whether it would cause him to miss art class. As he gravely said to me recently as he presented with a magnet he painted himself, he loves his art.