When I was 15, I ran into serious trouble with my health -- and again at 17. Doctors gave it all kinds of names: rheumatic carditis, rheumatoid arthritis, and so on. Two doctors called it rheumatic fever -- but without proving it. It was only when I was 48, and admitted to Intensive Care, that a specialist identified the bug -- a resistant strain of Streptococcus. This morning I went to see the dentist for something simple. He gave me a quadruple dose of penicillin, to take an hour before he started (one capsule pictured). He said this morning: "You could have been killed" -- referring to my admission to Intensive Care -- which followed a dentist appointment, with him. OBSERVATION: Rheumatic fever killed Mozart. There are a third of a million fatalities a year, although it can be well treated now.