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. I
suffered the flu in 1977, and I remember it as the worst illness of my life
until I became elderly.
I finished around
midnight. Returning to my car, I passed two young women arguing bitterly on the
sidewalk. One insisted on walking to their hotel, the other objected because
she was wearing high heels.
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.
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