exactly with all the sensations that I have ever felt.
I remember going to the British Museum one day to read up the treatment for some slight ailment of which I had a touch — hay fever, I fancy it was. I got down the book, and read all I came to read; and then, in an unthinking moment, I idly turned the leaves, and began to indolently study diseases, generally.
I forget which was the first distemper I plunged into — some fearful, devastating scourge I know — and, before I had glanced half down the list of „premonitory symptoms“, it was borne in upon me that I had fairly got it.
I sat for a while, frozen with horror; and then, in the listlessness of despair, I again turned over the pages.
I came to typhoid fever — read the symptoms — discovered that I had typhoid fever, must have had it for months without knowing it — wondered what else I had got; turned up St. Vitus‘s Dance — found, as I expected, that I had that too, — began to get interested in my case, and determined to sift it to the bottom, and so started alphabetically — read up ague, and learnt that I was sickening for it, and that the acute stage would commence in about another fortnight.
Bright‘s disease, I was relieved to find, I had only in a modified form, and, so far as that was concerned, I might live for years. Cholera I had, with severe complications; and diphteria I seemed to have been born with.
Strona:Jerome K. Jerome - Trzej ludzie w jednej łodzi.djvu/14
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