“If the last hair in line at the back of your nose had a hand, it could slap you in the brain,” said my son, while industriously smashing down the innards of his baked potato with a fork.
“That’s disgusting,” my daughter said, and demonstrated how she, also, could slap him in the brain.
A brief scuffle ensued. Threats were issued. Conversation continued.
We were talking about swine flu shots. Actually, not the shot, but the Flu Mist, which the literature says is perfectly safe, even if it is a live virus you’re snorting directly into your brain. So to speak.
And it absolutely can’t give you the flu. That’s just wild conspiracy talk. It’s only that the virus (weakened!) can possibly give you many of the symptoms of the swine flu. So it’s the flu virus, that makes you feel, possibly, as if you have the flu, but it’s not. It’s different. (Try to keep up.)
It might also make you lose all control of your legs, in some cases, and also makes you potentially contagious for twenty-one days, fearsomely capable of infecting anyone around you unwise enough to have a weenie immune system, with swine flu.
So getting the Flu Mist absolutely doesn’t give you the swine flu. Just other people.
This is the best I could figure out after consulting with our doctor, the nurse at work, forty-two incredibly alarmist internet sites, and the women on the phone at the county health services office.
The health services office was where we were originally scheduled to bathe our brains in contagion. I hate going there because the bug-flecked fluorescent lighting and peeled paneling in the waiting room send me in to an instantaneous state of despair. It’s institutional angst with a side of can I get syphilis from sitting in this orange plastic chair?
Chair syphilis. Probably they have a pamphlet on that.
So now we’ve skipped out on the mist, and are contemplating the shot, or alternately, just waiting for someone who’s already had the mist (Swine Flu Time Bomb) to infect us and get it over with. The kids are all for living dangerously, of course.
Also the cats have taken up sneezing as a secondary occupation. (Their primary job is tripping the unsuspecting. This involves stretching out into a three foot long cat-strip and lying in wait) They like to sneeze on your face just as you are waking up, which is just their way of saying Good morning! Here’s direct shot of cat-borne virus to the brain! Or worms!
So now that I’m probably a wormy, syphilitic, potential swine flu time bomb, I’m planning to come visit you at your blogs really soon!
I’ll bring the hand sanitizer and the pamphlets.
UPDATE: Breaking Medical News! Apparently a cat in Iowa has just been diagnosed with H1N1. The news this morning advises that anyone with sneezing cats should visit the veterinarian.
Sometimes I scare myself.