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I want my mother

I have the ’flu. It seems very single time I fly, I get sick, so I’d like to blame those people carrying germs with whom I was locked into the cabin of a Boeing 737 and those who followed me around in various airports for the 18 hours it took me to get from Vancouver to home in Nova Scotia.

But if we examine the facts, the truth would have something to do with the lack of sleep during the long journey—and the germs got to pounce on me when my back was turned and my guard was down.

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