Illness

I have realized who I am. I am the American Indian. As a white girl with blonde hair, this is probably not obvious to you so I will tell you why. I get every odd disease that passes through my building. Be it the childhood coxsackie virus* or your common cold, I get them all. I am immune to nothing, although I have roamed the plains…er…coastal citites of the northeast for lo these many years.

I am sick because I am now in contact with foreigners. And by “foreigners” I mean “people with small children who consort with other small children”. As with the cliques that many groups of people create, this one is bound by similar interests. In this case, it is is low-grade airborne illnesses (among, I imagine, other things). They congregate at daycares, like the ships the Europeans came over on, and they share their scurvy and what not and bring it out into the fresh air of the urban office environment where unsuspecting natives like myself take them in. If it doesn’t kill us, it drives us to fire water and so we are eliminated. It’s an old and sad tale of oppression. It is a noble mantle though and I will bear it with pride. From bed, often, but with pride nonetheless.

*Aka “hoof and mouth disease“