Lost for words

The Micrognome is only rarely lost for words, but the Centenary of Tropical Medicine meeting was obviously an exception.

The first symptoms were, ironically, a loss of marksmanship. So the MicroGnome’s spirits sank as he flew about as far as you can go in Australia to get there for the Tropical Medicine Masterclass. Just in time, not only for the start of the class (public apology to all participants for not having time to properly meet and greet the stellar cast) but also in the nick of time to belt out the first talk before his voice disappeared down the plug hole. Its temporary replacement was an odd squeak in place of every two out of three words.

By the next day the MicroGnome was utterly incapable of audible utterance. His principle means of imparting Gnomic wisdom had faded to a pale whisper, resembling the Godfather on dark chocolate. So he was forced to shut up and listen – best thing he’s done in a long time. He was treated to a parade of expertise from leading authorities on snake bite, travel associated infections, arboviruses, Q fever and emerging nutritional diseases.

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