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Ah yes -- the old-fashioned "sanitarium"! Eugene O'Neill was sent to them for his TB -- he'd sleep in a deck chair, bundled with blankets in the cold air.

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My father took the outdoor "rest cure" at Trudeau Sanatorium in the early 50's, before I was born. As he described it, the experience was just like "The Magic Mountain" minus the philosophical symbolism, but with all the relentless boredom. I inherited a handmade silver ring from one of his art and crafts activities, and he passed on a love for music kindled during his stay. Lucky for both of us, antibiotics killed his TB before the sanatorium did him in.

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