[δεκαοκτώ]
It seems as if a third of the damn population is ill this month. To the point that the two smallish words 'waiting room' now begin to fill me with dread, contempt, and an urge to curse fluently at anyone who aims them in my direction. Lucky for us all that the dire cases seem to be tapering off, and that medicine simply is what it is here. You can all receive treatment, not simply a prognosis.
For the longest time humanity believed that sickness was brought on by an imbalance of substances known as humors-- as far back as Egypt, in my memory. Nothing funny about them, of course. Blood, black bile, yellow bile and phlegm. Too much of one, get rid of it. Bleed them out, induce vomiting, sweating or diarrhea. It wasn't entirely without merit, the idea of using citrus juices and honey to cure a cold was and is ideal, but humorism normally did more harm than good, and of course the majority of them for centuries were loathe to listen to the suggestion that perhaps those methods were a little primitive. Well, until Hippokrates started finally listening to me. Most of his work sadly did not survive the break between the medical school at Kos and the one in Shalimar some few hundred years later. Idiots.
He was a bit of a stubborn ass, went bald early. But a professional, always a professional. Honest, sangfroid and far too understanding. Bad qualities in a salesman, good in a physician. And he never bit his damn fingernails.
Promise, we need to talk about working out our schedules.
The rest of you, get well. And try not to breathe on one another, for Asklepios' sake.
One week.
[ooc: Robin's started getting things ready in the apartment for Niko to come home. he sent Tony a gift basket. one week is the number of days since Robin has coupled with someone in the City. he's nearing a cracking point.]
For the longest time humanity believed that sickness was brought on by an imbalance of substances known as humors-- as far back as Egypt, in my memory. Nothing funny about them, of course. Blood, black bile, yellow bile and phlegm. Too much of one, get rid of it. Bleed them out, induce vomiting, sweating or diarrhea. It wasn't entirely without merit, the idea of using citrus juices and honey to cure a cold was and is ideal, but humorism normally did more harm than good, and of course the majority of them for centuries were loathe to listen to the suggestion that perhaps those methods were a little primitive. Well, until Hippokrates started finally listening to me. Most of his work sadly did not survive the break between the medical school at Kos and the one in Shalimar some few hundred years later. Idiots.
He was a bit of a stubborn ass, went bald early. But a professional, always a professional. Honest, sangfroid and far too understanding. Bad qualities in a salesman, good in a physician. And he never bit his damn fingernails.
Promise, we need to talk about working out our schedules.
The rest of you, get well. And try not to breathe on one another, for Asklepios' sake.
One week.
[ooc: Robin's started getting things ready in the apartment for Niko to come home. he sent Tony a gift basket. one week is the number of days since Robin has coupled with someone in the City. he's nearing a cracking point.]
