I am not sure who the guilty party was; it could have been a local Vicar, a friend or a member of my family. An attachment was sent to me over the internet from someone I trusted, so I tried to open it. But failed. Shortly afterwards, the computer crashed and no digital kiss of life would revive it. Its pulse was weak, so I took it round to the high dependency wing of the local computer shop, where it was put on life-support. It had caught some lethal virus that was doing the rounds, for which there was no known cure.
Over the next few days, I was allowed to look at it during visiting hours. It was wired up to a lot of machines scanning its brain and infusing programmes. The proprietor spoke in hushed whispers about prospects, but advised me to prepare myself for the worst.
And then I got an urgent phone call. Would I come round? I arrived expecting the worst; but was told that the patient had made a remarkable recovery and could go home.
I took it home to find that, physically, it was in good shape. However, it had lost its entire memory. It had no recollection of anything that happened before the arrival of the virus. So the next few days were spent restoring its memory and reprogramming it.
No lasting damage was done, although some time was lost. I went round to the Business Computer Shop to acquire a product manufactured by Dr McAfee, which gives protection against virus infection in future. Gingerly, the medicine was applied and there was no allergy, no rejection and we are back on stream. Indeed, this article has been composed on the convalescent machine.