A Short History Of Presidential Illness

The first, say, 15 Presidents were all so much sicker than your modern brain can imagine. All of them were on the verge of collapse at all times, and their assholes were dirty, and there was nothing to do if they got pink-eye. Vaccines also didn’t exist, so they were susceptible to all sorts of foulness including–and it pains me to report this–slave-based diseases. You could catch drapetomania!

Millard Fillmore was a straight-up leper. Shit fell off him all the time. A guy named Mousy Halbrooke followed him around gathering up fingers and kneecaps and whatever. After hours, Millard’s wife would do it, and she resented it. “Here’s your fucking nose, Milly. That’s what you get from fucking whores.” I don’t know if leprosy is communicable via whore-fucking, but Mrs. Fillmore sure thought so.

You know about Herbert Hoover, but did you ever hear of Hector Hoover? That was Herbert’s semi-sentient twin who grew out of his shoulder. There was a well-defined head, and two nubbins that might have been arms, and also a dick. Hector used his nubbins mostly to play with his dick, and he whispered to Herbert in a secret language. The press was aware of this, and had in fact interviewed Hector several times, but they didn’t tell the public because it was a different time.

Grover Cleveland was hit by trains on two non-consecutive occasions, and no one ever heard about it.

Leon Czolgosz’s bullet was the best thing to happen to William McKinley. The 25th President was riddled with disease: spongified fingerlings, brain pustules, ear hemorrhoids, heterosexual tendencies, dingal fungus, and massive problems with his gooch. He also thought he was an Irish Setter named, ironically, Mousy Halbrooke. Crazy ol’ Leon was putting Billy out of his misery, way I see it.

Eisenhower died five times. Full-on brain death. They buried him once, but Ike was a fighter, and so he got out of the coffin and threw clods of dirt at John Foster Dulles for a while. The press was aware of all five death, but never reported it because it was a different time. Also, they were scared of Ike.

Kennedy was jacked-up on speedballs. Every old photo of him you’ve ever seen, every newsreel appearance: high as nine kites. Look up Dr. Jacobson. Here, I’ll do it for you. JFK was vibratingly high at all times, which is maybe why he thought he could invade Cuba all by himself.

Reagan also died five times. “Ike’s not gonna beat me, Mommy,” the Gipper would often say to Nancy, who was gobbling his eagle at the time, as was her wont. And then he’d die.

Both Bushes were werewolfs. The Secret Service would lock them in the bunker during full moons. As befits a patrician family, they ate very few interns. Barely any, really.

Obama had scurvy. “EAT AN ORANGE, GODDAMMIT!” Michelle would beg him. But he wouldn’t, and so all his teeth fell out and ran across the room. The press knew, but never told anyone because it was a different time, and also they were afraid of being bitten by Obama’s now-noncorporeal teeth.