“I claim not to have controlled events, but
confess plainly that events have controlled me.”
He was almost eighteen; a tall, muscular, articulate boy who felt ready to leap into manhood. His mother brought him in because he needed a checkup before his coach allowed him to play football. He was a bit miffed that the rules had made him miss his first practice.
He had no symptoms. Well, maybe a cold the past few days. His throat felt sore. He was on no medicine; he did not smoke; he had not used illegal drugs.
I asked him to sit on the exam table. As soon as he opened his mouth I felt concerned. He had thrush all over; something we only see in people who have recently taken antibiotics or whose immune systems are compromised. Within five minutes I could see that this young man…
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