My mother was hit with a particularly nasty little spud back in the late 80s. Can't recall the bug’s name, but it left her completely paralyzed from the neck down, including the need for a respirator. I think she needed her heat pumped as well, but I wouldn't swear to it. Can't recall the virus, but none of the doctors at OSU had a clue what the hell it was.

Her family practitioner, Dr. Mitchell, the same guy who delivered me into this world, had the answer. He recognized it immediately -- because his wife had been hit with the same virus a couple decades before. Due to a nearly complete lack of research, this rare bug is utterly incurable. All you could do, he said, was let it run its course. 40 days later, Mom was back to driving the school bus (now it's the Winnebago [w/lil’ black Ford pickup tow-vehicle] with Dad).

Occasionally, my youngest brother will get a big laugh at the monthly breakfast we share by dabbing at Mom's mouth with a napkin, then offering to feed her. I'm surprised she hasn't knocked him out by now. He would have been in his late teens when she was in the hospital. I was in Italy, and informed of the traumatic period late, she was already in the recovery stages.

Dan