thought it prudent to refer him to a psychiatrist. He had
explained to Alex, as gently as he could, that the tests he
had performed had found no physical basis for his
complaints. Alex had grudgingly attended one session with
the therapist, then had stubbornly refused to go back, flatly
stating that he wasn't crazy.
Dr. Usher sighed. "While I appreciate your
difficulty, Eleanor, there's little I can do if Alex won't see
the psychiatrist. He still comes to appointments with me,
but frankly I think he's resentful that I suggested therapy.
He thinks I don't take him seriously, which couldn't be
further from the truth. It's just that I believe the problem
is in his mind rather than his body."
Eleanor looked hopefully at the older man. "Isn't it
possible that he's right, Doctor? I mean, couldn't there be
something wrong with his skin, some sort of rare disorder
maybe?"
Dr. Usher removed his glasses and gently rubbed
the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming on.
"Eleanor, we've been through that. We've run every
diagnostic test; he's seen a leading dermatologist. There's
nothing physically amiss with Alex. His skin isn't the
issue.” He leaned forward in the chair. "What Alex is
suffering from isn't all that rare. There's a fancy psychiatric
term for it-- a 'somatic delusion', wherein patients believe,
contrary to all rational evidence, that they have a physical
ailment."
"Isn't that called being a hypochondriac?" Eleanor
inquired dubiously.
Usher shook his head. "People with
hypochondriasis suffer from a neurotic condition which
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