It’s the influenza

That’s the diagnosis from my Dr.. He’s actually quite young, I have even wondered if I could have given birth to him, but those were his actual words.

I had visions of wooden sidewalks and dusty streets with dung laying about hither and yon. Sully was riding to the reservation to fetch Dr. Quinn because it’s the influenza. Beds line the walls of the town hall where the afflicted are quarantined.

It is good to be in the 21st century with narcotics to deal with the burning barking cough, and steroids to take care of the asthma. I am in my own home, about to get in my own bed. And doing ever so much better than I was 24 hours ago.

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