I recently learned within a couple of hundred years before the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock, a plague swept through the Americas decimating as much as 90% of the indigenous population. By the time those intrepid Europeans arrived the remaining Native Americans tragically proved no match for newly-introduced poxes and fevers.
There used to be a time when my immune system was the stuff of legend. Sure, I'd get the sniffles every now and now - maybe even the flu once every 4 or 5 years - but really nothing seemed to be able to take me down.
And then the kids came along, bringing with them every germ a biological warfare lab could dream up. This weekend Gus had the sniffles. Today I have something akin to laryngitis. Yesterday, he got sick at school. Tomorrow I'll have...I shudder to think.
Let's just say my already great sympathy for the indigenous peoples of the America has taken on a new level of empathy.
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