Ethan glanced down at his jeans and cursed under his breath. The wet patch was small, barely noticeable, but to him, it felt like a neon sign flashing "Embarrassing!" across his lap. Quickly, he pulled his hoodie off the back of his chair and tied it around his waist, hoping no one in the crowded cafeteria had seen it.
This was becoming a daily struggle. A few weeks ago, Ethan thought it was just a fluke—a little leftover dribble after using the bathroom. But then it kept happening, turning into a persistent problem that left him on edge. Every time he stood up or walked through the hallways at school, he was terrified someone might notice.
"Why can't I just be normal?" he muttered under his breath as he shuffled to the trash can, tossing his barely-touched lunch tray.
At home, things weren't much better. His little sister, Emma, had a knack for spotting anything unusual, and Ethan knew if she caught on, she'd never let him hear the end of it. So, he kept it a secret, rushing to change clothes or hiding behind strategically placed backpacks and hoodies. But even his best efforts didn't stop his mom from noticing.
"Ethan, honey, is everything okay?" she asked one evening as they sat at the dinner table. "I've seen you rush to the bathroom a lot lately."
"It's fine, Mom," Ethan mumbled, stabbing at his peas.
But she wasn't buying it. A few days later, she cornered him in his room, her face a mix of concern and determination.
"Ethan, I think we need to see the doctor," she said gently. "If something's going on, we can figure it out together."
Ethan's stomach flipped. The thought of explaining his problem to a doctor—or worse, having them tell him it was something serious—made his skin crawl. But his mom was insistent, and a week later, he found himself sitting in the brightly lit exam room, wishing he were anywhere else.
The doctor, a kind man with a reassuring smile, listened carefully as Ethan described his problem. "It sounds like post-void dribbling," he said finally, scribbling notes in Ethan's chart. "It's more common than you might think, especially in boys your age. Your muscles are still developing, and sometimes they don't fully close off after you're done urinating."
Ethan felt a flicker of relief. At least it wasn't something serious.
"So, what do I do about it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"We'll start with some simple exercises," the doctor said, handing Ethan a sheet of paper. "These will help strengthen your pelvic floor muscles. It'll take some time, but you should see improvement."
Back at home, Ethan dutifully began the exercises. Squeeze, hold, release. Repeat. Over and over, just like the instructions said. But as the days turned into weeks, the results weren't coming fast enough.
"Why isn't this working?" he grumbled one evening, tossing the exercise sheet onto his desk in frustration. He flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Summer break was almost over, and the thought of starting eighth grade with this problem still haunting him made his chest tighten.
And then there was the road trip. His mom had been planning it for weeks—a family getaway before school started. Normally, Ethan would've been excited, but now the idea of being stuck in a car with Emma and his little brother Ben for hours filled him with dread. What if he had an accident? What if they noticed?
Ethan sighed and buried his face in his pillow. He just wanted to be a normal kid, not the one who had to worry about wet spots on his jeans. But for now, normal felt frustratingly out of reach.
YOU ARE READING
Ethan's Troubles
Short StoryEthan, a 13-year-old boy, struggles with post-void dribbling, a minor but embarrassing medical issue that leaves small wet patches on his pants. Despite reassurance from the doctor and practicing exercises to fix it, the problem persists, making him...