Now and then, at the sulfur baths, I meet a perfect specimen of health and vitality who was given up by the doctors years ago. They all tell the same story; they forgot their ailments, they ignored them, they found something to do — something of a serviceable nature — which made them forget themselves.
One day Joseph Lister was summoned to assist a wealthy lord with a fishbone that had lodged at the back of his throat. After Lister had skillfully removed the obstruction, the grateful patient asked him what he was owed. "My lord," Lister suggested, "suppose we settle for half of what you would be willing to give me if the bone were still lodged in your throat.