Basically I've been avoiding Legionnaires Disease my entire life.
I know that sounds like a rather random pursuit--and it is--but let me assure you it's entirely true. I blame on my mother, because I have never known anyone with this affliction, am not personally familiar with any of the affects, nor really know exactly what it is, but I do have an unreasonable fear of theme park misters and water parks. And I swore early on that if I ever became First Lady, the eradication of this disease would be my personal Betty Ford Clinic.
After a lifetime of holding my breath past Splash Mountain and resisting the urge to hurling those stupid spray bottle fans that always seem to mist me in line for a churro by sweating strangers, I have now been exposed to my worst nightmare of dying a slow and painful death in a VFW lodge, and I was no where near a log flume.
Yep, we were in the freaking Aria Hotel in Vegas on the dates in question.
The only possible upside I can find in this situation is that so far Sean nor I haven't experienced any symptoms yet and when I do finally become First Lady my charitable foundation won't seem nearly as hollow now.