Rothman: Between bites, buboes and YUHS
In high school I brushed off feeling ill. A hacking cough? It’s just something caught in my throat. Serial sneezing? It’ll pass in a moment. I saw throwing up as a sign of weakness and Advil as a cure-all: If I just take some ibuprofen for those chicken pox, I’ll be better in an hour. This was a safe practice because I had my parents around to attend to my health and convince me that ignoring a bleeding wound was not the best way to make it disappear.
But now, my parents aren’t around to detect a sore throat; they can’t fuss over bruises they can’t see. It makes me nervous that I...
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