During the many times I was homeless, I never got sick. Not anything. Not a cold, certainly not a flu. Nothing.
When I got into housing, I’d get sick within weeks. I have had some amazing diseases, including a case of pneumonia that almost killed me, a mouth disease that prevented me from eating for two weeks (I dropped 20 pounds) and a lovely skin disease I like to call “that time I molted.” I also lost weight from that, just because I couldn’t enjoy eating while my skin peeled off.
My doctors at the time of the last two couldn’t definitively diagnose either one.
Read more in the Mar. 11-17, 2020 issue.