I remember my quarantine experience vividly, although I was just a small kid in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. My mother was diagnosed with diphtheria, an infectious upper respiratory disease. The town police chief, Vin Hall, came to the house one day with a large red poster, a hammer and nails. He nailed the poster to the front door... Quarantined, it read. I guess it really meant isolation since we couldn’t leave for a few days, as I recall.