Grappling with the mysteries of the human body

Posted by admin on Mar 8, 2006 in Community | 0 comments

Chris Nash

It was a Monday morning; wet and rainy outside.

How appropriate.

I remember waking up, confused, and the first thing I thought to myself was, How old am I? Regrettably, the answer was twenty-one. Not six… not eighty-six… twenty-one.

I slinked out of my bed, ashamed of myself, and glanced at the clock. 9:15. Luckily, Jay was still in class.

I sat on the end of my bed and put my head in my hands, realizing just how hopeless my situation actually was. I didn’t know what to do; I didn’t know where to begin. I was alone.

I had peed the bed for the first time in years and all I wanted to do was cry.

* * *

Christmas break began only a few days later, so I did what any wounded child would do–I ran home to my mommy. Of course, “running home” involved a four hour plane ride back to Toronto, so I had plenty of time to stew over my dilemma.

The whole ordeal made me think back to a puberty-based book I once saw in a library. The cover showed a pre-teenaged boy gawking down at his body, baffled and upset. The book was entitled “What’s Happening to Me?”

As the plane descended toward the runway of Pearson airport (named after Canada’s sexiest prime minister) I found a kinship with the desperate boy from the cover of that stupid book. Much like him, I gawked downward, beyond the seat buckle, and asked myself: What’s happening to me?

* * *

I arrived home and found that I was nervous to go to bed at night, since I had no idea what had triggered the nocturnal downpour a week earlier. Could it have been something I ate? Was I drinking too many liquids? I was perplexed and afraid.

Unsure of my next plan of action, I contemplated the teachings of two scholars. William Congreve, an English playwright, once said that “fear comes from uncertainty. When we are absolutely certain… we are impervious to fear.” On the other hand, Dale Carnegie, a public speaker, once said to “do the thing you fear and keep on doing it.”

Hmmm…

I decided to follow Congreve’s advice, to be certain. After all, it’s my body–I sure would love to be in control. So I set up an appointment with a Dr. P. Finley (photo withheld by request) to get to the bottom of what I prayed would not be an ongoing problem.

* * *

My meeting with Dr. Finley started on an awkward note. I can assure you this, dear reader: there is nothing more disconcerting than visiting your doctor and watching him laugh uncontrollably at your ailments.

“Have you considered investing in Depends?” he asked me, trying to stifle his laughter. I looked at the floor, awkwardly. What’s happening to me?
After exchanging a few more jokes and pleasantries, Dr. Finley and I got down to business. He fired question after question, and I answered them all with precision and honesty. I felt like a lab monkey who was being forced to play whack-a-mole. “Yes, it’s an isolated incident (whack)… No, it doesn’t burn when I pee (whack).” I was in the zone and I was doing very well.

“Well, you could have had a minor seizure during the night,” he suggested, “Or it’s possible that you were in such a deep sleep that that your body simply went into a state of extreme relaxation.” Dr. Finley doubted that the problem would occur again, but he instructed me to report to him if it did.
Thankfully, it hasn’t.

I was glad to finally have some answers, but I still needed closure on one issue before I left. “Dr. Finley,” I asked, “How many people my age have come to you with a situation like this?” I had my fingers crossed that his answer would be in the thousands.

He gazed up at the ceiling and thought for a brief moment. Looking back at me he responded that in his 13 years of medical practice, a grand total of zero 20-somethings were experiencing what I had gone through.

*Sigh* All alone.

“This sort of thing usually happens up until nine years of age, and it may continue when you’re old and confused,” he said, pausing. “But at your age it’s unusual.” There was another brief pause and then we both laughed long and hard.

I guess laughter truly is the best medicine because Dr. Finley sent me from the interview feeling much better about myself. Of course, before I could leave he offered one last suggestion. “If you’re feeling self-conscious, you could always start a trend of yellow ‘pee’ wristbands,” he shrugged, “They worked for Lance Armstrong.”