Pandemic

So the word "Pandemic" is in our everyday vocabulary. Indeed, I cannot seem to make it through the day without hearing about the Swine Flu at least thrice. Now, remember how I am kind of a germaphob anyways... it's fine. But lately all of this talk about H1N1 is stressing me out. Is it bad that now, whenever anyone tells me they are not feeling well, I instinctively lean as far away from them as possible without being too offensive? Is it bad that when someone coughs I want to apply hand sanitizer faster than a speeding bullet? Or if someone tells me that they have been throwing up, it takes every ounce in me not to run from the room? Is that bad? Oh, and I love it how when someone tells you they have been sick you automatically worry about yourself. "Oh snap. How am I feeling? Okay? Sick? Like I have Swine Flu?" It's a problem. 

BYU-Idaho keeps sending out emails each week compelling the students to stay home if they are sick. The professors have been told to be very lenient about people missing class due to Swine Flu... bless them. It seems as if once a day in at least one of my classes my professor announces that a number of our class emailed him, and are sick with the Swine. While this is an awesome precaution, I have my doubts about its effectiveness. This is why: 

The other day at work a man comes in to take his Biology 276 exam. He looks rough. Granted, most people do look rough when they come to the Testing Center of Death, but we give them a break. It's scary here. Yet, this man looked worse than just the regular "I'm-taking-a-test-rough..." He was pale, sweaty, and his eyes were a little bit glazed over with a faint look as if he was going towards some far distant light. No bueno. Then I observed this man a little closer. He was panting, and gasping for breath. Indeed, he had just climbed the stairs of death, and was slightly portly, but I should not have felt like I needed to call 911 to put this man on oxygen. He then approaches me at the printer and is leaning on the counter in an attempt to support his rapidly declining body. Instinctively I cringe away, and hold his test out for him putting as much space in between us as possible. Then he coughs a little, tells me he can't use anything on his test, and saunters into the testing room. I thought I should pray for him, but I washed my hands instead. It was pretty intense, and all I wanted to do was make him go home and go to bed. 

Indeed, I don't know how affective these new precautions will be. It's people like our Biology 276 friend who like to contaminate us all. So take heart, and use Purell. Thank you, and goodnight.