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Show 242 Horses "If you hear hoofbeats, don't think zebras," he is reciting, eyebrows raised in jest. I have a zebra disease, however, and I am used to thinking zebras. Large herds of them. Dr. Chappie's partner is taking care of my pump today. He is sure that the problem I am presenting is commonplace. I hate to disappoint. Being commonplace would be nice, though. For once. He has just refilled the pump but it is reading "error" back to the computer. I am immediately concerned that the pump is broken and would need replacement - with the inevitable long hospital stay - but he is referring me to horses, not zebras. "Let's wait a minute then read it again," he is saying, looking out the window at the snow falling. I have no problem with that idea and assume that he will leave my room to another patient's but he sits back down instead and begins discussing the quotidian. It is nice to bask in the non-critical for awhile: football, the local university, last summer's movie now out on video. I had been cold from having been in our barely-heated van for the trip up, from having sat in a cold |