Overexposed picture of Genaya in the Melbourne Aquarium.
When we returned to Adelaide, we discovered that there had been a Legionnaire's Disease infestation in the air conditioning cooling towers atop the building housing the aquarium, and everyone who had visited during the easter period was supposed to immediately visit their doctor for tests, especially if they were exhibiting cold or flu symptoms.
Of course, since I wore shorts in Victorian autumn weather, I had a cold when I got home.
Did I bother to go to the doctor? Don't be silly, I'm male, and men just don't do that kind of thing. We'll see a surgeon if a piece of angle-iron has pierced our legs, but only if it's stuck so solidly that it prevents us from riding a horse or having sex or something like that. Lacking any similar injuries, of course I'm bloody-well not going to see the doctor.
Women, on the other hand, will seek urgent medical attention for matters as trivial as a splinter in their little finger (don't laugh, I've watched it happen, and it's not a pretty sight!). They must think medical insurance claim forms grow on trees or something.
Genaya went running off to the doc as soon as she heard about the disease, and eagerly awaited the results of her test. "Mark, you have a runny nose, aren't you going to get tested?" Yeah, whatever.
I didn't die, anyway.
|
