Ok, maybe I don't really do the "fretful mom" thing. If the cat scratches Munch and she comes running to me, I don't give her, "Oh, you poor baby!" I tell her, "Go wash it with soap and water, and stop picking on the cat."
I got to spend this evening in the hospital emergency room with Gin. She fell down the stairs and twisted her ankle. Personally, I thought it was an overreaction. We spent two hours there. (Surprisingly brief, I know.) She got an x-ray and an air cast and has to get crutches. Why? - because they're not going to say, "You're fine. It's a little owie. It'll go away." However, by the time we got home, she was walking around on that air cast like it was nothing. Seriously, there wasn't even any swelling.
I took a much harder spill down those stairs a month or so ago, but I dealt with an achy hip for several days, watched the massive bruise change colors over the course of a week or so and moved on. Life comes with these little bumps - you have to learn to get over them. Besides, most of the time, the human body recovers just fine all by itself. It was made that way.
So she gets out of a week of gym - that's two gym classes - and some extra attention at school. I get the bill.
(Don't get me wrong - if something is serious, I take it seriously. This wasn't.)