A Fungus Among Us

-OR- Why We are Switching Family Doctors

So I have a wrestler (the Cubscout).  Since wrestling began, I have been fairly anal about germs as Coach gave us a big speech about showering and whatnot as ringworm is a possibility when little sweaty boys go onto a mat after they have walked on a floor where regular shoes have been.  We were so careful, but apparently not careful enough because Monday after practice, the Cub came home and he had three red spots on his shoulder, two on his back and one on his ear.  I went immediately into full-on freak out mode.  Luckily we had Lotrimin on hand (although if you have it in your house, someone hasn't been so lucky in the past).  I slathered the spots with the medicine then Googled the heck out of ringworm.  The next day, I made a Dr. appointment with our family Doc.  The Cub has always seen him.  He is great and has always taken a hands off approach by recommending non-medical interventions when possible.  But here's what happened...

We got to the appointment a little early (after I careened from my school to the school of the monkeys in the next town over where we live in order to make it to the appointment on time.  I am very thankful I didn't have to produce my license/proof of insurance, because that would have been expensive).  We got to the office in time, waited for a few minutes, then went back to be seen.  One hour and forty minutes later the Dr. walked in.  He didn't chat up the Cub at all.  In fact, he didn't even talk to him at all.  I told him, "I think the Cub has ringworm."  He took a look and said, "That's not it and left the room."  He returned shortly with a dermatology book.  He diagnosed the Cub with a somewhat rare skin disorder and recommended seeing a dermatologist (who does not accept insurance).  I said, "His wrestling partner has ringworm."  He was insistent that ringworm was not it and proceeded to find the page with the skin condition he was saying.  He flopped the book open and now the Cub has seen his first female full-frontal nudity (covered in boils).  The Cub's eyes got as big as saucers before he covered them and looked at the ceiling.  The Dr. said to me the Cub wouldn't be able to wrestle for at least four weeks.  At this point the Cub was holding back tears because he loves wrestling so, so much (and probably his retinas were burning as well).

We left the Dr.'s office.  I went to my mom's house and she thought that it was probably ringworm, too.  Then, I called the head wrestling Mom (Mom  to the coach, grandma to two team members, keeper of all paperwork and advice giver to all).  She said, "What?" when I told her.  Then she said, "Is it circles?  Then it's ringworm.  Go to Dr. Y and take the wrestling release form with you."  So another copay later, we have a release to wrestle tomorrow and a diagnosis of ringworm (Dr. Y walked in and said, "So you're a wrestler Cubscout?  How's that going?  First place last weekend?  Looks like you got into some ringworm.  Do you have a paper for me to fill out?")  The whole appointment and quick trip to the grocery took less time than the entire fiasco the day before.

The only good thing that may have come of this is that the Cub may be too scared to ever look at a girl without her clothes (for fear that all girls have boils all over themselves).