Friday, February 22, 2013   The Matron cannot resist a cherub,
particularly one she herself produced.  Consider the angel
above.   Sigh.  So it might not be hard to imagine how the
mother fretted over the physical decline of this child.   Virus,
strep, flu.  You name the creepy crud and it crawled into him.
 Merrick went through each illness straight to the next,
wracking up more visits to Urgent Care in six weeks than an
entire lifetime.    Yes, the Matron chafed at the time and
energy involved in all those doctor visits for "it's a virus"
largely but as time went on, she became Concerned.  Every time
she looked at that child, she knew something was wrong.   His
face?  Pale.  Bright eyes?  Vanished, replaced by depressed
little droops of bags and skin.  The boundless energy?   Gone.
 Instead, the boy who runs, shoots, volleys and tumbles fell
onto the couch and never wanted to get up.  Merrick:  "I feel
lazy.  I don't know another word for my main symptom."    The
mother began to suspect her child was depres