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I swallowed a quarter at my grandma's house on my fifth birthday. When I went to the hospital they found a tick head embedded in my neck. I had Rocky Mountain Spotted Tick Fever and if I hadn't gone to the hospital I would have died. A girl around my age who had lived right down the street from my grandma died from it at about the same time. Interestingly enough, they had to sift through my poop until they could verify that the quarter came out and they gave it to my mom when we left. My poop quarter was later stolen. I just found out last year that it was my sister who stole it.
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Good friends we have had, oh, good friends we've lost...along the way. In this great future, you can't forget your past. So dry your tears, I say.
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