(And can I still call the doctor for them? [Spoiler: no])
You’ve packed the twin XL sheets, the 47 granola bars, the emotional support plushie, and your last shred of control.
Now you’re home, trying not to text, “Are you hydrated?” every 45 minutes – and wondering: What happens if they get sick?
Because you know – as sure as the sun rises and freshmen forget to set alarms – they will get sick.
Maybe it’ll be the flu.
Maybe it’ll be “mysterious dorm rash.”
Maybe it’ll be an emotional collapse triggered by running out of clean socks.
Whatever the case, the good news is: campuses have medical services. Real ones. Not just a guy named Steve with Band-Aids and strong opinions.
The Campus Health Center: Your Student’s New BFF
(Whether They Like It or Not)
Think of the campus health center as a cross between a MinuteClinic and a low-budget “Grey’s Anatomy” set – minus the dramatic music, plus more hand sanitizer.
Most health centers offer:
- Routine checkups (aka: “Yes, that’s still a functioning human.”)
- Vaccinations (Flu shots! COVID boosters! The mysterious “You should probably get this just in case” vaccine!)
- Urgent care for minor illnesses (colds, flus, the classic “I Googled it and now I think I have polio” situation)
- Mental health counseling (more on that below – but yes, it’s there and it’s real)
- Basic lab work, some medications, and sometimes even physical therapy (for those very intense frisbee injuries)
What’s not typically included:
- Dermatology, cardiology, or your personal pediatrician whispering “he always reacts well to the bubblegum amoxicillin.”
- Full-on hospital-level emergency care (for that, they’ll refer students to local urgent care or hospitals)
But My Kid Has a Rash, and I Know It’s Strep.
Look, we love your instincts. You’ve got a sixth sense for sore throats, and you can smell a sinus infection through a FaceTime screen.
But the health center staff?
They went to actual medical school.
They’re licensed. Qualified. Equipped.
They may not immediately diagnose “Mom-said-it’s-strep,” but they’ll run a test. Politely. Even if your student walks in holding a Post-it that says, “Call Mom before treatment.”
How Does Insurance Work?
Ah yes, the wonderful world of insurance, where everything is covered until it isn’t.
Here’s the breakdown:
- Many colleges offer a student health insurance plan, which can cover on-campus and off-campus care. It’s often billed with tuition.
- If your student is still on your family plan, check with your provider: Is your child covered in their college town?
- On-campus visits may be included in tuition or offered at low cost.
- → Example: $15 co-pay for a visit vs. $300 for going rogue at a local urgent care and paying cash for a single Band-Aid.
Pro tip: Make sure your student knows how to use their insurance card – and where it is.
(If you just gasped and realized it’s still in your wallet… you’re not alone.)
Don’t Forget Mental Health: Therapy Is Also on Campus
Most schools now offer free or low-cost mental health counseling, with real, trained humans. No dreamcatchers or mood rings involved.
Services often include:
- One-on-one counseling
- Group therapy
- Stress workshops
- Emergency mental health support
Yes, they might resist at first.
Yes, they might say, “I’m fine.”
But just knowing those resources exist? Huge.
Sometimes the “cold” isn’t just physical. And college knows that.
But What If It’s an Emergency?
If something truly serious happens — injury, hospitalization, etc. — the school will reach out. You won’t be left guessing while your kid texts “everything’s chill” with a neck brace on.
Most schools also offer:
- Emergency contact protocols
- On-campus ambulance access or partnerships with local hospitals
- Crisis response teams (for mental health emergencies)
You don’t need to live in fear of a sprained ankle turning into a medical mystery. The campus is prepared. They’ve seen it all: scooter crashes, midnight fevers, and yes — ramen-burn incidents.
Let Go
(Just a Little)
You don’t get to sit in the waiting room anymore. You won’t be asked what their temperature “usually runs.” And no one’s going to text you after the appointment with a summary and juice box emoji.
But that’s okay.
Because your student?
They’re going to figure it out.
They’ll cough, panic, Google, forget to drink water, then go to the health center. They’ll check in, fill out the form wrong twice, and eventually get seen.
And afterward, they might even call and say, “Yeah, it wasn’t that bad.”
Your kid has access to real doctors, nurses, counselors, and care – even if they still think DayQuil is a personality trait.
So take a breath.
Step away from the thermometer.
And maybe just text: “Health centers are open Mon–Fri. You’ve got this. Also… drink some water.”
So trust the system. Trust your kid (even when their judgment is fueled by caffeine and denial).
And know that when things go sideways – whether it’s the flu, a panic attack, or a twisted ankle from interpretive skateboarding – help is right there on campus.
And remember: no one has ever died from a cold and a mild case of homesickness – especially not within walking distance of professional healthcare and a dining hall full of soup.
(Although they might try to claim it when they want sympathy and snacks.)