The swine flu, apparently
Sarah
I’m writing this from the torpor of the swine flu.
That’s right. The swine flu. Be glad the internets are between us.
If you are like most people—and here, I will give you the benefit of the doubt—you will now ask how I know it’s the swine flu. See these symptoms? I have those.
To be fair, as far as I can tell, my fever only lasted one day. And even then, it was only arguably a fever, scoring in at a 99.4 (which my med school friends tell me really isn’t particularly feverish, even though my body temperature the rest of the week has hovered around 96.9-97.7). Still, for that one night—Saturday night—when the idea of being touched and the idea of not being touched both made me cry, it was bad enough. My eyes hurt, my neck hurt, my chest hurt. I had chills, my head was hot, and I sneezed and coughed and wracked and wished that I were disembodied, that I were vacant, that I wasn’t.
Thank goodness for Nyquil.
And for women. Because while I was descending into the abyss of trendy disease, I was also reuniting with four of my favorite, favorite women on the whole planet. Three of my California friends and I flew to Rochester to visit Reija and feel the beauty of an upstate New York autumn. How I love these women. We crashed on Reija’s bed, watched her try on her wedding earrings, talked about our various love interests (yes, including mine), made biscuits and salad and butternut squash soup, and talked about being women, about being professionals, about motherhood and on and off ramps and gender differences. And that was only Friday night.
Three of us and a fourth, unrelated visitor slept in Reija’s front room. I was one of those four, which meant I spent all night praying (even in my dreams, I hoped) that my germs would somehow magically stay near me, not spread around me, not infect the people I love.
Because it turns out, I was a danger to them.
I do not often think of myself as a danger to anyone but me. I recognize that I have the power to harm. And do, with more regularity than I like to confront. I try to be good but sometimes I criticize, I discourage, I withhold. These are dangerous behaviors. They do not lift and build.
But I do not think of myself as being danger. As being unable to remove from myself the capacity to harm those around me, unable to divorce myself from the risks I impose on everyone else. I wonder if this is what it felt like to be an Untouchable. Or a Bible-era leper.
There I was, sitting on a plane full of unsuspecting souls, sucking on cough drops, clutching tissues, and praying that I wouldn’t cough or sneeze or have to wipe my nose so the people around me wouldn’t give me nasty looks, wouldn’t request that I move away from them, wouldn’t stand up and yell, “Get off the plane, SICKIE! You’re going to infect us ALL!!”
I was really hoping that wouldn’t happen.
And it didn’t. My rowmate forgave me my sniffles. Never once glanced at me when I coughed. And the women I spent all weekend with—they still hugged me when we parted. Karren even kissed my cheek before she headed to the airport. “You just showered,” she said. “I think I’ll be safe.”
And hopefully, today, when Manfriend comes home from his weekend away (he’s been in Boston, participating in a rousing, weekend church-fest focused on missionary work and loving God; he was stoked; he is that kind of man), he’ll forgive me for being dangerous to him too.
Manfriend, come home. I’m sick. I’m hot. I’m danger. But I’ll do what I can to be safe to you.
20 comments
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November 2, 2009 at 2:01 am
lisapiorczynski
Wish I could’ve been there to discuss the on and off ramps and gender differences. Sounds pretty fantastic. Swine flu and all. Count me in next time, Sarah.
November 2, 2009 at 8:47 am
sar
Now you can get your swine ’09 t-shirt.
November 2, 2009 at 11:00 am
Slone
Your post demonstrates the usefulness of a mask. We just came from Halloween, where masks are associated with fun and a mockery of darker spirits. On any other day, we mostly think the person wearing a mask belongs either on a stage, in surgery, or behind bars. But Dr. Mengele and Hannibal Lecter were and are not the only ones to duck behind one. The Lone Ranger does his deeds with one. There’s the obvious batman. My favorite has always been the Green Lantern – though he doesn’t always wear a mask, just a different suit. Even Santa Claus wears a mask of sorts. Not only does he wear the red suit, the gloves, the white beard, and the hat, Santa depends on those who believe in him to act for the benefit of others. I love and fear the fact that disguise can be used to deceive and destroy or to protect and heal; even to liberate. Like you, I have not always respected or even believed the power I have to do harm; a power sometimes beyond my control. I can, however, learn to use a mask. To rob a bank or to leave a bag of groceries on the neighbor’s porch, just under the mailbox. Or leave toys for children under a tree. Or, as in your case, keep germs from the person sitting next to me on the plane. Masks may frighten, they may feel silly; but sometimes a mask is the thing, you know.
November 2, 2009 at 11:04 am
rvs
I saw Manfriend this weekend at the conference – I thought it was him but didn’t see you. That was confusing. Sounds like you had an excellent time. I hope you feel better soon!
November 2, 2009 at 11:57 am
sarahlolson
Lisa, will do. We would love to have you. And next time, I’ll try to be disease-free. Heaven/immune systems willing.
sar, do they have those? that could be awesome!
Slone, wow. Thanks for pulling out a substantive comment–especially when my post seems to have silenced (or not solicited) comments from other people. And you’re right–masks can be liberating. Healing. Which is important to remember because, let’s be honest, I’m not really a fan. The Phantom. Zorro. Any person who hides who they are to do something else–shady. But if who you are is DANGEROUS and what you’re wanting to do is NOT HARM PEOPLE, well, then, a mask is the way to go. Maybe that should have been my costume on Saturday. See? I could get into Halloween.
rvs, you did?? I’m delighted. Do you know him? Did you say something to him? That would be have been great. Oh man. I love our small world.
My heart goes out to any of the rest of you who are sick today too. I wish we could unite in some conference hall somewhere, full of beds and couches and blankets and the homemade crockpot chicken soup with (unpeeled) carrots, potatoes, and celery I cooked up last week. We could watch Baby Mama. Or The Office. Or the pilot episode of Arrested Development. Or Wild Hearts Can’t Be Broken. Haven’t seen that in a while. It could be comforting.
Which of you sickies (and brave/strong healthy people) are with me?
November 2, 2009 at 12:07 pm
kristen
The swine flu, two weeks ago I was laughing at all the news coverage. Then the day I got home from having my third baby my other two had fevers and now for 10 days we have had the H1N1 germs floating around our house. Stop the Madness, no one is laughing anymore!
November 2, 2009 at 12:17 pm
rvs
No – I didn’t know Manfriend apart from knowing you (through your brother Peter) and so I didn’t feel entirely comfortable saying hello. (“Hi, I’m an Apron Stage blog reader and wanted to check and see if you were Sarah’s Manfriend. No, I don’t actually know her per se, more her brother, but I didn’t even know they were related, and, um, wasn’t Elder Ballard’s talk great?”).
BUT, I am happy to report that he asked Elder Ballard an excellent question during the Q+A part (and was the first) – “How did you [Elder Ballard] deal with things that you realized you needed to change in your life?” To which Elder Ballard said that he reviewed his life over and over, and looked for ways to improve. Elder Ballard said quite a bit more (I just typed up my notes from the weekend, with 7 pages worth) but Manfriend seemed very friendly from what I could see. You have an excellent Manfriend.
November 2, 2009 at 12:32 pm
abbie white
Oh dear. I’m sorry. Maybe this lower your fever…
We saw Sister Paul when we were in Boston this weekend! We didn’t get to talk to her, but I finally saw her and Forrest tried to talk to her while he was in the hall with Audrie. No dice.
I thought of you. I really need to see you soon. I would even risk getting the swine.
November 2, 2009 at 3:01 pm
AnnaBeth
We were visiting with friends this weekend, too. My 3 year old was sick Saturday night just like you. As soon as he threw up my friend looked at me with terror in her eyes and said, “You better not have brought us the swine flu.”
My response, “If he has it I hope I did. If I have to go through it then so do all of you.”
You are a much better friend/person than me.
Turns out her husband gave him lots and lots of candy whilst we took a potty break after trick-or-treating. At least she and I (friends this past 20+ years) got to do something we’d never done before: clean up puke.
November 2, 2009 at 3:43 pm
Merinda
We laughed about the swine flu too. Especially my husband. He said, “Do you know how many people die from the regular flu every year?” But then I went out of town for the weekend to meet a new baby in our family and left two of my kids with him. Within an hour of my leaving, one kid had an aching back, a high fever, and a cough.
So he was stuck at home for the whole weekend with one sick child and one restless child. I was stuck with the dilemma of whether to actually hold and cuddle that cute new baby I had come all that way to meet, knowing that I might be infected too. In the end, I held him and cuddled him, after much hand-washing. And his momma didn’t even freak out on me.
Nobody else got the flu. But in a way that made me sad, because it means that I wasn’t hugging and cuddling my nine-year-old much in the days leading up to his illness. Every time I read about that awful world of a pandemic and what to do (don’t shake anyone’s hand, stay home as much as possible, etc.) it makes me sad for the world. Sad that we might have to live like that, and sad that so many of us already do. That’s why my mantra with germs is “the more the merrier.” How else are you gonna build up your immune system?
November 2, 2009 at 6:20 pm
Margie
Great, KT is coming home and sleeping in the room next to me. You better not have made her danger to me! I may have to disown you as my double-third cousin….
November 3, 2009 at 1:48 pm
mikelle
Maybe Slone is onto something with the mask here? I went to China earlier this year, and they wouldn’t let us off the plane until two fellows in head to toe hazmat suits and masks had boarded and taken every single person’s temperature. Our friendly flight attendant told us that they would quarantine anyone who was suspect for a week. (I guess they learned from the whole SARS episode and are taking NO chances with swine flu.) Anyway, I noticed during our visit that a fair amount of people wore masks out in public (at the airport, on the subway, etc.) I don’t know if it was because they were sick or because they didn’t want to get anyone else’s germs, but people seemed far less self-conscious about it there than they do here. I don’t think I have EVER seen someone wear a mask here… even in the doctor’s office where they specifically request you wear one if you are contagious with something. Maybe Americans would feel less inhibited if they could wear ANY kind of mask!
November 3, 2009 at 3:32 pm
Louise Plummer
Look, how pretty the swine flu is. Lovely green circles.
I’m not getting it. I have made up my mind, and I’m not getting it.
November 3, 2009 at 3:46 pm
Slone
Ooh, Mikelle, do I detect an unfilled niche in the market? Designer masks anyone? Not the halloween kind that cover the whole face, more in line with what Michael Jackson used to wear. We could do masks embroidered with beads or lace or some kind of bling. We could do lettering and little blurbs more interesting than a t-shirt. “iGlove NY” or “The bug stops here” or “Schnitt happens.” We could get Bergdorfs and JCPenny to start a line. Get Oprah and Martha to wear one on their show and you’ve got a hit.
November 3, 2009 at 3:51 pm
lisapiorczynski
Slone,
China beat us to it during the SARS outbreak. Check it out:
http://shalbert.blogspot.com/2008/03/black-lung-fashion-masks-and-mcdonalds.html
November 3, 2009 at 11:30 pm
Angelique
I wear a mask daily at work (I work in operating rooms) and would loooooove a high-fashion mask!
Sarah, I totally get the strangeness of feeling like you’re a danger to others – I rarely consider myself harmful or dangerous – I go out of my way to be as innocuous as possible but sometimes you just can’t help the danger you expose people to
I was in a car accident this summer that involved me sliding across a wet road on a stormy night – fortunately there were no oncoming cars and no pedestrians on the shoulder (which is where my car eventually got lodged) – I don’t think I would have been able to drive again if I had hurt someone else
November 4, 2009 at 12:26 pm
Manfriend
I knew what you were when I picked you up.
November 5, 2009 at 1:41 pm
Jerry
Sarah,
(1) your ability to capture me into a subject that I just really don’t care about never ceases to amaze me.
(2) Good thing swine flu isn’t much more than an average flu, or I would be really mad. A PLANE?! You were on a plane when you had the swine flu? That is not kind, nor courteous.
(3) Let us all draw the analogy, that I think you were already trying to suggest, between physical swine flu and spiritual swine flu. Some people have a spiritual sickness and think that it doesn’t affect other people. Sin whether directly or indirectly will negatively affect those around you, no matter how much you think it won’t. Don’t assume that your friends and neighbors are immune to your spiritual swine flu. In other words, don’t do drugs kids. done. Argument: done.
November 8, 2009 at 3:36 am
stace
How do controversial vaccinations figure into your metaphor? I ask because I just got mine. Not metaphorically. With a needle.
November 9, 2009 at 8:22 am
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