anthrax this

ah me, ah my. it looks as though we need to brace ourselves for "anthrax scare: the sequel."

apparently, postal employees at an outpost in tacoma, washington reported traces of mysterious white powder on some of the mail, and promptly freaked out. now, tests have been done, and apparently there are no signs of biotoxins involved.

be that as it may, they promptly freaked out.

i give us two weeks before there's nationwide mass hysteria over it. just like there was with the anthrax.

fucking hell, this country is becoming more and more like some sort of fucked up post-apocalyptic pulp paperback every second.

a word of advice: if you're having trouble breathing, it's PROBABLY NOT ANTHRAX. and it's PROBABLY NOT SARS. you are PROBABLY NOT DYING, whatever the media would choose to have you believe. this world is not, repeat not sinking in disease to nearly the degree that the hungry demands of the paper-printers would have you believe. speaking from experience.

an anecdote: flashback, halloween eve, two years ago. height of the first anthrax scare. miss shivery starts to feel a little grim mid-day, sitting at her desk a few scant blocks from the smoking hole that was the world trade center. gets kind of pale and has a pain in her chest. now, because this was at the point in her career where she still gave a shit, she didn't go home until her friend the aussie walked by her desk and said:

"my god, shivers--you look absolutely awful. go home!"

after a bit of coaxing, miss shivery did. she staggered home and promptly passed out. missing all of the halloween festivities. alas.

she wakes up the next morning, and feels as though there's something sitting on her chest that is both large and metallic. her left lung feels as though it's not working at all, and her right suffers acute, stabbing pains on each inhalation. she has a fever of 103.

so, she calls the office. telling them her symptoms and that she's going to sleep a little more, she'll try and be in later. hangs up phone, out cold again.

ten minutes later, the phone rings. it's the aussie.

"um...shivers...not to alarm you or anything, but, um...we've been looking up the symptoms for anthrax on the internet, just, you know. because. the state department returned some mail and stuff, and...ah...GO TO THE HOSPITAL. GO TO THE HOSPITAL NOW AND GET TESTED. GOGOGOGOGOGOGO!"

to which shivery says:"um...okay."

so, as soon as she can breathe enough to move, she stands up, gets dressed, and walks fifteen blocks to the local hospital. walks. because she's an idiot. or delirious with sick, nobody knows.

she gets stuck waiting in the emergency room for about six hours, everyone she's ever met is completely freaked out, convinced that she has anthrax, because she has all the symptoms.

six hours later, she's released with an anthrax-free bill of health and the admonition to stop breathing powdered glass. to which she says: right.

the moral of the story: just because you have the symptoms of the disease of the week doesn't mean you actually have it. so relax. go to your doctor before you turn your world upside down.