I have the Bubonic Plague. Mrs. Raballard insists it is only a cold, but I know she is mistaken. She is a wonderful wife, and a fantastic mother, however her knowledge of plague symptoms are limited. Sure, she can feel your forehead and guesstimate your temperature with unheralded accuracy.
If by chance, Mrs. Raballard is right, and she usually is, then I am sure I have yellow fever, typhoid, malaria, or diphtheria. What ever I have, I feel icky. I can only hope I have one of the fatal, disfiguring diseases and not common cold. No, I have not lost my mind actually the wish for a horrible disease over the common cold is pure genius. Last time I checked there is not a cure for the common cold; all you can do is suffer until the cold decides you have had enough. Yellow fever, typhoid, malaria, diphtheria and the Bubonic plague all have a cure.
There is a slight hitch in my plan. My internet, magic eight ball, or etch-a-sketch has yet to locate a doctor that practiced medicine between the early twentieth century and medieval age.
To my dismay, I must suffer through my ailment. Unfortunately, I don’t feel yucky enough to miss work. I pretend I have a common cold and shuffle off to work. I informed my supervisor if he was to find me sleeping at my desk he was not to worry. I would actually be in a plague-induced coma; I would never sleep on the job.
I have to go; I just got a hit on my web search for medieval surgeons. It was nice talking to you. If by chance you come back and find me staring intently into my computer screen, there is no need to worry. It is just me searching for my cure. However, is you feel so inclined to worry feel free to call 7-1-1.
What, you have never heard of 7-1-1? It is almost like 9-1-1, with the exception of the need for speed. The EMT’s can take their time, please ask them to stop for donuts. It appears this Merlin guy my search found is some kind of myth. I might be here for awhile.