Living our lives is like writing into an unfinished book. Every day, we turn a page and stare into a blank space, and whatever we do that day, gets written in it. Momentous and memorable events, deserves a chapter of their own, and the book is never finished, even in our death it is continued by the ones we left behind. For me, this new page in my book started with a bullet point.
Coming home from work, I was greeted by my somewhat ill at ease son. That was a somewhat refreshing development, as kids these days are very “can do anything on their own” if you know what I mean, especially teenagers, who rather prefer, and would be very happy, if you just leave them alone.
He started by asking me if I knew anything about pimples under the skin. Deducing from his demeanor and sensing he has it, I answered in the affirmative. Why, what do you want to know about it? I added. He then started narrating his problem.
He said it started about three days ago, he felt a bump in his back and generally just ignored it thinking it was just an insect bite or something. Another day passed and the bump started to hurt a little, and until about yesterday, it swelled into a much larger bump that also came with intense pain. Upon consulting with his friends, I was the last resort I guess; he was told it was only a pimple, but an “underground one” at that.
So he started doing what typical teenagers do with pimples, he kept poking it, saying it will eventually rear its head, and then he will be able to pick at it. He first applied toothpaste on it, a popular belief, and let it stand overnight. I don’t know how he slept with toothpaste on his back, but in the morning, the surface atop the pimple was hard, he said. He somehow then scratched at it, unmindful of his pimple back there, and drew blood. The already maturing pimple being scratched developed a bloody skin tear. He said he tried his best treating the wound, but the position it was in, which was at his back, made it very hard to thoroughly clean it. And now he had fever and his lymph nodes are also swelling too.
So basically, what he meant from asking me if I know something about pimples, really means “Dad I have an infection and I need to go to the hospital”. It takes so much experience to be able to decipher what these teenagers really want to say. I’m at a lost as to why don’t they just say it straightforwardly? What if it was a life or death situation, then we’ll all be screwed.
That escalated quickly though, first I came home, then a little talk, and now were heading to the hospital posthaste. I am a little bit flabbergasted at the recent turn of events, but also very thankful that I did get the chance to help my son, as it is the only thing important here.
Its times like these that you will remember fondly in the future.