Now the swine need to worry
Just as we get the name for our newest pandemic on the lips of all and sundry, and then find that name changed, the pigs have decided to claim what is rightfully theirs. Somewhere in the wilds of Alberta (we aren’t being told where, in respect for the patients’ anonynity) a small herd of pigs are ill. They caught the H1N1 A (pronounced hi-nee-a, I think) from a human that had gone wandering somewhere south of El Paso. Almost ironic, since we were calling this the “swine flu” when there were no piggies with curly tails involved. On the other hand, maybe the pigs were referring to it as “human flu”. Now, both infected parties must adjust to the new reality.
I’ve received bulletins from my son’s school, from my employer, from the local government. All and sundry are worried. For my part, I’ve laid in some stocks of rice and broth powder. We can live for days, huddled near the barbecue, should public sanity and sanitary cross wires, shutting down the civilized world. I guess we should stock up on coffee at the same time. That way, we can remain alert and malnourished. Which is more dangerous: the flu or scurvy?
The media is keeping score. At any given time, CNN or CBC or LCN or TVA or any of the other acrostics have visuals ready for the rest of us. We’ve seen maps and graphs and shots of queued people wearing those masks favoured by dentists. From what I can find out by a moment of research, the paper mask is efficient at keeping the germs in, not out. That way, once someone in the house falls ill, they have a ready supply of antigens (the better to heal oneself).
