Bill's Musings

Last Sunday, around 2 p.m., I got hungry. Not too hungry, mind you. Not hungry enough to eat, say, a hot beef sandwich or something.  No, more like a good old bowl of cereal. I’m a Captain Crunch fan. An Alphabits fan. Cereal with meaning. I mix these with a little bit of Special K so that it’s ‘healthy’ for you. And so, I walk into the kitchen, pour myself a bowl, mix it just right. I got out my favourite spoon. Then, I top it off with some good old 1% milk.

Well, I would have. The carton was empty. So was the other carton in the fridge. Hmmm. Well. No cereal then. How about some leftover wings from Saturday night? Nope. The bowl is still in the fridge, but it’s empty. I end up frying a can of potatoes.

Walking around the house, something just doesn’t feel right. I didn’t feel right. So, I wrote down all my symptoms, and since I had a doctor’s appointment the next day, I figured he’s help me find out what was wrong.

We went through a battery of tests. Bood tests. Urine samples. Turn your head and cough tests. Everything that we could think of. After the results were in, he called me back for a consultation. He sat me down, looking all serious. I was beginning to worry. Then he let me have the news.

‘Bill’, he started. ‘This is more serious than we thought. I’ve looked over all the results, and talked it over with my colleagues, and we’re certain of our diagnosis.’ I was, needless to say, quite nervous. My life began to flash before my eyes. I saw a little chubby boy wearing orange velour pants. I saw this same boy get a puck in the package while playing goalie. I saw myself grow up, become a father, a husband, a business man….and so on. I asked him ‘Just give it to me straight, Doc!’

He told me. “Bill. You have what we call ‘teenagers’”. I was floored.

How did this happen? I mean, I watch what I eat, more or less. I try to exercise (I play pool).  I do as much good as I can. I hold doors open for little old ladies and pretty much anyone else that walks through a door. I see my parents regularly. I pet my dogs and sneak them treats. In short, I’ve done everything I could to prevent just such an occurrence, but BAM, there it is…..teenagers!

On the drive back, I went through the 9 stages of denial (or is it 14? Whichever, I just know that my mascara was running when I pulled into the driveway). When Anne got home, I was curled up in the fetal position, listening to my Donny Osmond mixed tape. I was a wreck.

But, my wife is an educator, and a great sounding board. She has helped countless people through hard times. She got me up, got me showered, and we did what most people do when confronted with something overwhelming, something out of the blue: we ‘Googled’ it.

This was a mistake. Anne then realized that she had ‘teenagers’ too. We had a dual-diagnosis. Not one, but two teenagers. As far as I know, it’s unheard of. We’re the first case in North America. Europe doesn’t count because they’re like rabbits over there. We had to deal with this on our own, because, like I said, it’s unheard of.

And so, those of you out there who are thinking of having kids, remember! Teenagers can happen to you, if you aren’t careful!