These kinds of memories always surface by way of an innocent mistake. These are the ones she keeps deep down, in the dark places. They come to her triggered by an honest comment, typically made by a stranger.
"Have you ever had pneumonia before?" the doctor asked. "Your lungs seem pretty strong with exception of that one spot."
It took three whole months and a week to rid herself of that infection. It plagued her, made her weak. It ruined parts of her body that would take another six months to heal. She had shivered, feverish, beneath foreign blankets, waiting for medics who never came and ultimately, was given a placebo for the pain.
She never realized how deep the infection ran, how it clouded her eyes, submerged her mind beneath a film of meloncholy and malaise. Who knew it took so long to recover?
When she learned to breathe again, she still had the scars. And now, talking to the doctor, she realizes, they only show up in X-ray. This is good.
"I've had it once before," she replied. "But it seems you can barely tell as the spot is so small on that image."
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