LITMIR.BIZ

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is something worrying you,’ I said, as I had said previously, and would say again.

      ‘Yes,’ he said quietly.

      ‘Did you have a good morning at school?’

      He didn’t reply but gazed out of his side window, deep in thought.

      ‘What’s your favourite subject?’ I asked, trying to engage him.

      ‘Science,’ he said in a deadpan voice.

I continued talking to him and then I fed a CD of popular children’s songs into the player. Oskar was quiet all the way to the Health Centre and then held my hand as we crossed the car park. I gave his name to the receptionist and said we were there for his medical. She told us to take a seat in the waiting area. The centre ran various clinics for children and adults, including immunizations, well-woman check-ups, blood tests and dentistry. Some of the children were playing with the toys provided, but Oskar just wanted to sit beside me. I picked up one of the children’s story books, but he was too preoccupied to take an interest. I tried talking to him, but he was locked in thought. I reassured him again that the medical was nothing to worry about. Another few minutes passed and then Oskar’s name flashed on the digital display screen together with a recorded voice giving his name and telling us to go to Consulting Room 2. He started and looked at me, petrified. ‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘It’s telling us it’s our turn.’

      I took his hand and we went down a short corridor until we came to a door marked Consulting Room 2.

      I knocked and a female voice called, ‘Come in.’

      As we entered, a young woman doctor seated at a desk swivelled her chair round to greet us. ‘Hello, I’m Doctor Yazdi, and you must be Oskar.’ She smiled pleasantly.

      ‘Yes,’ I replied on Oskar’s behalf, as he’d said nothing.

      ‘And you’re Cathy Glass, his foster carer,’ she said, glancing at her computer screen.

      ‘That’s right.’

      ‘Take a seat, please.’

      We sat in the two chairs at right angles to her desk. She was very nice, but Oskar was frowning harder than ever now and his legs were jumping up and down agitatedly. ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ I told him.

      The doctor smiled. ‘And you’re six?’ she said to him.

      He managed a small nod.

      ‘When did he come to you?’ she asked me.

      ‘Yesterday.’

      ‘Does he have bruises anywhere else apart from his cheek?’ she asked, glancing up. I assumed it was mentioned in the online form Andrew had sent for her to complete.

‘Not as far as I know, but I haven’t seen him undressed.’

      ‘OK. Good boy. Let’s start by having a look in your ears,’ she said to Oskar with a smile. ‘Can you hear all right?’

      He gave a small nod. She took an otoscope from a drawer in her desk and looked in both of Oskar’s ears. He didn’t seem to mind, although I know it can feel a bit unpleasant. ‘They’re fine,’ she said, then typed in the result. She returned the otoscope to the drawer and took a wooden tongue depressor from a sealed packet and then asked Oskar to open his mouth so she could examine his mouth and throat. He did as she asked.

      ‘That’s all fine,’ she said, throwing the depressor in the bin. ‘And his teeth are in good condition.’ I threw Oskar a reassuring smile.

      She then checked his eyes. ‘Do you wear glasses?’ she asked.

      Oskar shook his head.

      ‘Can you read the letters on that chart?’ She pointed to the Snellen eye chart on the wall.

      Oskar stared at her.

      ‘Does he know his letters?’ she asked me.

      ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He’s learning to read.’

      ‘Read the top line for me, please,’ she told him.

      Finally, he did. Slowly, in a small, plaintive voice, he began reading from the top, enough to confirm he could see all right.

      ‘Good boy,’ Dr Yazdi said with another cheerful smile. ‘His immunization programme is up to date,’ she said to me, glancing at the screen.

      ‘Is it? I didn’t know.’

      ‘According to our records it is, although the immunizations weren’t done in this clinic. Now, let’s weigh and measure you,’ she said to Oskar. ‘Can you stand on these scales for me?’

He didn’t move, so I took his hand and helped him onto the scales by the doctor’s desk. ‘His weight is at the lower end of average,’ she said. ‘Does he have a good appetite?’

      ‘From what I’ve seen, yes, but I understand he used to sometimes arrive at school hungry, which was one of the concerns.’

      ‘He could do with putting on a few pounds,’ she said, making a note. ‘Let’s see how tall you are,’ she said to Oskar, and drew him to the height bar. ‘Again, it’s the lower end of average,’ she said. ‘But nothing to worry about. He’ll probably have a growth spurt.’

      I threw Oskar another reassuring smile and he looked back at me, expressionless.

      ‘Now I’d like you to come and sit on the couch so I can listen to your chest,’ Dr Yazdi said.

      Oskar didn’t move, so I took his hand and led him to the couch.

      ‘Can you climb up onto it?’ she asked, pulling out a step stool from beneath.

      Oskar shook his head.

      ‘I’m sure you can, a big boy like you,’ Dr Yazdi encouraged.

      It wasn’t high and could be managed by the average two-year-old, but Oskar stood still, head down, staring at the floor.

      ‘Up you get,’ she said, ‘and sit on the couch for me.’

      I touched his shoulder and reluctantly Oskar did as she asked. Her stethoscope was already looped around her neck. As she went to raise Oskar’s jersey at the front so she could listen to his chest he grabbed it and pulled it back down again.

      ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, concerned.

      He shook his head and clutched his jersey so tightly to him his knuckles were white.

‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ I reassured him.

      ‘I just want to listen to your chest, Oskar,’ Dr Yazdi said. ‘Look, like this.’ She slipped the chestpiece into the front of her blouse and put in the earpieces. ‘I can hear my heart beating. Would you like a listen?’

      A trained paediatrician, she was so patient. She allowed him a listen and then gradually Oskar released his jersey and let her lift it up so she could listen to his chest and then his back. This also gave her the opportunity to check his skin for any more bruising or suspicious marks. I couldn’t see any.

      ‘His heart and lungs are fine,’ she said to me. Then to Oskar, ‘Good boy. Now I want you to lie down so I can feel your tummy. And I’ll have a look at your arms and legs too. Have you been to the toilet today?’

      Oskar didn’t reply, so I said, ‘Yes, he went this morning.’

      ‘Good, and he takes care of his own hygiene?’

      ‘Yes,’ I confirmed.

      ‘Lie flat on your back then,’ she told Oskar, who hadn’t moved. ‘It’s not going to hurt.’ He still didn’t move.

      ‘Lie down, love,’ I said. ‘It’s part of the medical. I’ll

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