ne day, long after the harvest was in...
"tack... tack... tack" was the first thing he heard. It was morning and he knew he must arise. In spite of the illness, he had come to a point of trying to adjust to a regular schedule. So, just as he'd done every morning, for the better part of the past three years, he arose and went straight to the window. With all the optimism of the inner child which he'd never outgrown, he paused there at the window sill and closed his eyes. Then, he threw open the shutters and inhaled a long dose of the fresh air coming straight for him. "Maybe...!" he thought, "Perhaps today..?" And with that he slowly opened his eyes and looked up. "Alas, no!" he sighed aloud to no one, shaking his head. The cloud persisted and along with it, the gloom of the community.
Up until this time, for the most part, life in Morgdom had returned to the day to day humdrum of activity that was common of any such community. The cavernous divide that was caused by the 'Survey, which was NOT a study of the DOP' was overshadowed by other events. Even so, the anxious didst await the 'results' of the 'study' and spoke of it only amongst themselves saying, "A good study it will be, indeed..! The old ones will soon see their folly and rejoice in the science along side us..!"
... and the old ones didst hold their breath in anticipation of said 'results'.
Many of the slayers of the dragon known as "the DOP", were busy at work. But at the same time, the dragons had begun to develop alliances with neighboring townships and even cities, whereby their own beliefs could be 'posted'. The battle of words which ensued became so intense, it was thereinafter referred to as "The War of The Boards". And it was a war that neither side seemed to be able to win.
Nonetheless, before long the dragon had found many ways to put forth his dogma and rhetoric. And the slaying just intensified, because dragons do what dragons do and slayers....? Well, slayers slay. Morgdom, even in it's 'many fragmented' state, was still a mighty force when it came to dealing with the dragon. Young knights and damsels donned their armour, raised their lances and sharpened their broadswords. They were known to take on the dragon even it's own lair. Old ones did their best at teaching all how best to avoid the snares of the DOP.
Simultaneously, the word was being spread far and wide about the insidious illness and the lack of respect being afforded the residents of Morgdom. Banners and flags which didst promote the "No DOP" word, were flown in courts across the land. Councils were held and scrolls were published on both sides of the issue and the battle of words and ideals raged on. And then, as if propelled by some wind with an icy alliance to Winter; as if a harbinger or foreboding, came word... "tack... tack... tack"
He was about to close the shutters when his eyes were drawn downward to the square below his chambers. "Quite the bustle of activity for such a gloomy day," he noted. A crowd of people had assembled at the 'board', and there, didst attempt to read something being 'posted' by the town crier.
When he had put away his hammer, the crier turned to see the gathering crowd and though initially startled, he composed himself and didst announce, in the loudest voice he couldst muster: "Message from the fair young academician of the Uga, is now available for viewing!" And with that, he picked up his tool pouch and exited the podium. None too soon, as the gathering throng didst swarm to the 'news'.
Even from his window high above the square, it was fairly obvious that the 'news' was not being well received. "Ahhh...!" he thought to himself, "so today is the day..!" He watched with interest as most, if not all, of the town regulars stood and quietly read the document tacked to the top of the 'board'. Some left shaking their heads, some had to be comforted as they walked away and others became quite animated in their response to the 'post'.
As he closed the shutters he caught himself wishing once again that he could help each and every one of them. After all, he was a Knight in the Order of the Medi, and they were known for their ability to cure any of the ailments. "Medi, heal thyself!" he chuckled quietly, wishing that old adage had some meaning in this new madness. But the truth was that he was just as ill and just as abandoned as anyone else in the land of Morgdom, having been struck down by the illness himself.
Adding insult to injury, the illness was even ignored by the majority of his own Medi Court. Of course, the Medi are not your standard fare of 'blood-letters' as one might be familiar with (a decent barber can handle that task..!), nor one of those 'saw bones and tourniquette' type of 'surgeons' (perhaps better described as 'butchers') who wouldst salivate at chopping off an extremity at the first sign of a wart...! No, indeed, here was a man educated in the very arts of that which makes the human form operate. He had attended many of the great institutes of higher learning and, yes, one of those just happened to be the Uga. Ergo, as events unfolded, our Medi didst listen intently and read with fervor everything about the argument of the 'Survey, which was not a study of the DOP'.
He donned his cloak and prepared to visit the 'board' and read for himself what the fair young academician had sent to the Morgdom community. As he made his way down the rough hewn stone staircase to the street below, he recalled his days in the Land of Lanta.
He missed his life's work of healing and teaching and worried that he wouldst never be well enough to return to his duties as a practicing Medi Knight. Ever hopeful, he put to the side his own worries and fears, knowing that somehow, in some way and on some day wouldst come answers to the questions all of Morgdom raised. Perhaps the response from the young academician could help him know what, if anything, he couldst do. Quickly he made his way across the square to read the new 'post'.
He reached the 'board' and read the following:
"I am writing to inform everyone that I have an article about Delusory parasitosis coming out next week ...
I wanted to be the first to tell you the news regarding this publication because of the sensitivity I know you all have and bad experiences with researchers and medical professionals.
I want to be as upfront as possible and not seem like I m pulling any wool over anyones eyes or anything like that. Your suffering and skin situations are my priority, your safety, wellbeing and quality of life as well. And I do not think any of you are 'crazy'.."
I had submitted three articles, one delineating alternative reasons a person may have itchies and crawlies in which I included Morgellons. The Delusory Parasitosis article was the only one selected for publication, or not lost, misplaced or used as a tissue. This may be because it was one of the very first I submitted and the other have yet to be reviewed, but honestly I dont know.
The Medi read the post no less than three times, then turned and began a contemplative stroll around Morgdom square. Hands clasped behind him, he kept going over and over in his head, the now memorized message from the young academician. Indeed this particular knight was a very curious fellow, in that he wouldst hear and key in on phrases that might somehow escape the rest of us. He decided, after several complete rounds of the square, that he was quite interested in those other two, unpublished papers. Remember..? There were three, in total, and one was a study on the very disease that all of Morgdom wanted researched. That one study, the Medi knew, should be shared. And shared especially with those who had participated in the survey. He knew that he had to ask the fair young academician to post the study. After all, it WAS a study on "unidentified skin parasites" and, as he had been told repeatedly, was NOT a study of the DOP.
So after rushing back to his chambers, as fast as his chronically fatigued frame wouldst allow, he composed and sent a note to the young academician which read, in part:
"we want to post any research which is pertinent to Morgellons. Your research is certainly pertinent, regardless of your personal bias or conclusions. I respectfully request that you share the results of your survey with us .... I would also ask that you allow us to review and post all three of the articles you have written ... Even if not accepted for publication, I believe your research results and conclusions should be made public."
And then... the Medi waited... and waited... and waited.
