Phoebe's Diagnosis
(10 years old, post-TJM)

Helga was three lines deep in a melodramatic poem about Arnold's kisses when she heard a knock on the front door. Helga frowned, knowing that with Bob at work and Miriam asleep on the couch, she would have to attend to the situation.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Helga assured the visitor as she approached the door.

"Konichiwa Helga." Phoebe said pleasantly as her friend threw open her front door.

"Pheebs?" Helga questioned.

"I am very sorry to bother you, but I had some pressing concerns to discuss with you Helga." Phoebe softly explained.

"Sure thing." Helga replied in confusion, making her way back upstairs to her bedroom with Phoebe following closely behind.

Upon entering the room Phoebe drew a clipboard from her bag, studying it carefully before speaking.

"Helga, although in ordinary circumstances I would never pry into your personal life, I have documented an astounding level of weird behaviours from you in past weeks. I have organised these behaviours in a chart however I have been unable to come to a logical conclusion.." Phoebe explained, "And thus, I must conclude that I am worried about you."

Helga raised her brow at the poor caring friend before her, reaching out to read through the listed 'symptoms' on Phoebe's clipboard.

"Decreased attention span, increased drowsiness, decreased appetite, increased poetic tendencies.." Helga muttered as she read through the list, "Decreased violence, decreased spit balls, increased unexplainable absences."

"I wouldn't like to assume Helga, but I believe you are deathly sick!" Phoebe announced grimly.

Helga smiled, "I'm not sick Pheebs, I'm fine... I'm better than fine!"

"Helga, you may be suffering from delirium..." Phoebe objected.

"I have been worried about that myself." Helga muttered, moving over to Phoebe and placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "I'd love to tell you what's going on... but I can't."

Phoebe reached for her clipboard immediately, jotting down 'increased wanting to tell me what's going on' and 'decreased ability to tell me what's going on'... pausing for a moment she then wrote down, 'increased secrets'.

Phoebe's eyes flicked over the symptoms again, a twinkle appearing in her eyes as she made markings and equations on the page.

"Oh Helga, I cannot believe I did not solve this earlier!" Phoebe rushed.

"Uh, Pheebs I d-" Helga began to say.

"You're not sick at all Helga, you've simply had... too much ice cream!" Phoebe giggled.

Helga's eyes went wide.

"Oh Helga! I'm so happy." Phoebe squealed, "I'm so sorry to bother you, you must have so many poems to write."

Flipping her hand in apology for her interruption, Phoebe did a few quick bounces of joy before running from Helga's room squealing.