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-Signs, Portents, and the Weather-
Brooklyn teen hospitalized with Ebola-like symptoms
2014-10-13
[NYPOST] A teen who had recently returned home to Brooklyn following a trip to Sudan was rushed to the hospital with Ebola-like symptoms on Friday night, authorities said.

The 14-year old boy fell unconscious with a fiery fever in the Bergen Beach apartment he shared with his family around 6:30 p.m. after a two-week trip to the Sudan in North Africa, officials said.

The teen was rushed to nearby Brookdale Hospital just before 7:30 p.m., when he was isolated and quarantined by hospital staff as doctors began tests to determine whether the teen has Ebola or not.

Sources told The Post the boy may have lied on a sheet all travelers are required to fill out following trips to infected regions.
Posted by:Fred

#9  It was me.
Posted by: Fred   2014-10-13 21:20  

#8  It was Ethel Bobby. I think.
Posted by: Shipman   2014-10-13 19:58  

#7  Wait a minute, TW! I did some research and concluded the Fred Pruitt who wrote the book is not Rantburg's Fred.

Fred?
Posted by: Bobby   2014-10-13 19:46  

#6  Herb Untervehr9087, I far prefer to get my culture fix here than at serious lit'rary sites. You would perhaps not be surprised to know how many Rantburgers are amateur or professional writers, though I was. Mr. Pruitt is all sorts of national treasure, whose own novel, advertised in the right margin of the front page, is in my opinion absolutely charming.
Posted by: trailing wife   2014-10-13 13:27  

#5  2sealys, trailing wife, and other Rantburg readers, I knew a few of you would get it. What is so delightful to me is the pleasant, colorful and some times irreverent comments, which fill these pages from day to day. Each comments plays on the "classics" like Shakespeare, Descartes, Voltaire and others too numerous to mention. Yes, I agree "our language has drifted off, far into the ditch. And now, we crash." Lets try to remind ourselves, we don't have to crash, lets rid ourselves of the "language trash" which has become dominant in English over the last 50 years or so. We have a nice venue, all because of the generosity of "Rantburg Fred", who has provided a forum for "civil, well reasoned discourse".
Posted by: Herb Untervehr9087   2014-10-13 13:12  

#4  Or... To eb(ola) or not to eb, etc.

What was the lad doing for two weeks in Sudan, that he felt he needed to lie about it on the re-entry sheet?
Posted by: trailing wife   2014-10-13 10:11  

#3  Thank you, HerbU9807. Self reminder: reread more Shakespeare...our language has drifted off, far into the ditch. And now, we crash.
Posted by: 2sealys   2014-10-13 08:59  

#2  Sudan means it is on it's way to North Africa, where it is only a short boat trip to Europe.

Not good at all.
Posted by: phil_b   2014-10-13 00:42  

#1  To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.–Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember’d.
Posted by: Herb Untervehr9087   2014-10-13 00:14  

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