Just back from a rather elongated spell of sickness. My body is a real mystery: I can run 7 kilometers in the evening and get so sick in the morning that I can hardly sit straight without exhausting myself.
I went to see the doctor, doctor who I have come to believe is my only messiah, and when I told him that I cannot even sit his face got the expression of being very worried. His expression of being worried got me worried that if doctor is worried then it must be something horrible and I should also be worried. But, like I told you, he is my messiah. He gave me this bottle of medicine that could force everyone in a kilometer's radius to stop breathing if kept opened for more than few seconds, but it saved me just when I could see the smokes.