Of the four infectious diseases I had acquired the only one I recognized was the typhoid. Being misdiagnosed multiple times allowed the illness to progress beyond what I could have anticipated. I could hardly move my limbs now. Sweat pooled in the bed all around me. Trying to remain still, I suppressed my breath so as to not disturb the puddles; they felt freezing with the slightest movement. Most troubling was this new pain in the spine. Was it meningitis? I wondered. It had been a fulfilling 35 years and I accepted my fate without any fear--it seemed easier in a foreign land.
One afternoon during recovery I noticed the made bed from the living room. It looked different now, it was beautiful.