Now in previous years, I have recounted my travails in both going there, and getting back home. This year I made the flight there and back without incident, and I was somewhat relived that, despite a little turbulence on the flight back, my trip was uneventful.
Or so I thought.
I get back late on Wednesday night. Although I get back in the groove of work the following day, by the weekend I was starting to feel like I was getting a cold. I had just recovered from a Christmastime cold, where, upon congregating at my Mother-In Law's house Christmas Eve, 18 of the 20 participants ended up getting some form of illness, from colds to the flu. In a word, our Christmas Eve went viral.
Nonplussed, I shrugged it off. Obviously I got run down from a few frenetic days of activity. Some vitamin C and a few ibuprofen will fix me up by Monday, I thought.
Then Monday came, and I was worse than ever. Full body ache, a complete lack of energy, a temperature, a cough, and congestion. I was a mess. I slogged my way through the day, and turned in early.
Tuesday morning I was feeling somewhat better, until I received a call from my co-worker.
"Did you hear about the Luxor, where we stayed in Vegas?" she asked.
"No," I respond. "What is going on?"
"Well, it appears that the hotel's water system tested positive for Legionnaire's Disease, which they were only able to determine after someone who stayed there died from it!"
Now the term Legionnaire's Disease brought up some vague recollection from my childhood, when they named this baffling malady on the doomed group who was subjected to bacteria-laden duct works at an East Coast hotel.
"But how does this affect us?"
"Apparently the only way to get exposed is through contact with contaminated water, which may have occurred when we stayed there."
Now my minor coughs and sniffles took on a sinister undertone. My German heritage usually does not lead me to overreact, but this time I decide to err on the side of caution. I set up a doctor's appointment . . . pronto.
By the time I see my doctor two days later, my work had already forwarded a copy of the State of Nevada Department of Public Health bulletin stating that Legionnaire's Disease HAD been detected at the Luxor hotel in January. And that according to the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, there was one related fatality.
Well. Here it is, I thought. I can have everything nicely documented, from hotel stay, to public health bulletin, to doctor's visit, so when I die several weeks hence, my widowed wife will have an air-tight case to sue the Luxor with, and live out her years on the out-of-court settlement.
Such were my thoughts as my doctor enters the exam room.
With his characteristic bedside manner he asks "So, what brings you closer to death today?" and starts laughing as he sits down.
It took longer for my doctor to confirm the proper protocols for documenting a person who had been possibly exposed to Legionnaire's Disease than it took for him to treat me.
"Here is a prescription for an antibiotic. This will kill not only Legionnaire's, but also many things much worse than it," he chuckled.
I guess I can take the lawyer off retainer.
All I know is that if my work has the gall to book us at the Luxor for next year's convention, I'm going! What are the odds that I could get Legionnaire's Disease twice in my life?
According to the line in Vegas, 1000 to 1. They will bet on anything in that town!
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