As I hurry along the spa’s corridors, I try to hold my breath: “Don’t cough again, don’t cough again!” I goad myself. My chest rises and I let out a wheeze, swiftly followed by a cough. I’m doubling over now, legs crossed. The bathroom’s not too far, I think and wheeze, and lunge towards its door with my body now in some kind of weird acrobatic contortion. Is it too late? Continuing hurriedly along the corridor regardless of what’s happening, my cheeks flush as I feel a gushing flow trickle