A guest at Checkers, an upscale downtown hotel, had the flu with a 103 fever. I washed my hands before examining her; afterwards I washed again and included my stethoscope. I’ve had the flu shot, but I still worry about catching it. This happened in 1977 and I remember it as the worst illness of my life until I became old.
At my age, no one considers me threatening. As I started the engine, one of the women tapped on my window and asked for a lift. I drove her to the Bonaventure, six blocks away. She had been drinking but was coherent and grateful for the favor.