"Well, I hear a little bit of wheezing," the nurse says kindly as I pull my shirt down. "But if my stethoscope had been in the wrong place I would have missed it."
Later, after I finish yoga, feeling a little guilty for having stayed home from work, I'm seized by a coughing fit that rattles and thrashes around in my chest like a clothes dryer full of wet rags. I spit into a paper towel, and examine the sizable yellow globs collected there with some interest.
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One year ago: Dishwasher Epiphany
Two years ago: Near Miss
Three years ago: Wars and Rumors of Wars
Four years ago: Dressing Up and Annoying the Neighbors
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