The first of February, a month that Bucky termed "death month" years ago because so many people died in February one year.  This first day of this month Mayor Koch died.  I met Mayor Koch several years ago while on an IBM bus trip to the city.  Well, I didn't actually meet him, he spit on me.  We were at a food festival that we just happened upon in one of the parks, very busy atmosphere, everyone enjoying ethic type foods.  A group of men passed by, one eating and spitting all over the place, and Timmy pointed him out as Mayor Koch.  "Yeah," I said as I wiped off my shirt, "he just slopped all over me."  So much for the Mayor.

Timmy has been sick all week, an inner ear ailment maybe, dizziness and nausea on standing so he spent three days laying flat in bed, the only way he felt ok, laying flat. Sabra looked up his ailment on the internet and deemed it an inner ear problem, or a brain tumor, take your pick.  Apparently, there is a new kind of phobia going around, people using the internet to look up their symptoms and coming down and going to their doctors with hypocondriatic illnesses learned on line.  I can see where that might be a problem.  I only used the internet once.  It was years ago and my belly button was inflamed and sore.  Looking up the symptoms I gasped as I read of three different possible cancers, feminine type concerns and intestinal juices being emitted through the naval.  Nervously, I examined myself for more symptoms and saw that it was too tight pants in too hot weather.  Loose pants, and the cancers all went away. 

Timmy uses the nature programs on TV to diagnose his illnesses.  For this one, he used a wolf that had a broken leg and laid in an entrance to a small cave for two weeks, semi protected from coyotes, until his leg healed, and he headed for a stream, drank water and was fine from then on.  So Timmy stayed in bed (his cave), didn't eat for days, and today he is on his feet, his voice still shaky from whatever he had.  Maybe on the nature channel he can learn what to do about that. One day of death month down, twenty seven more to go.