SARS

So there I am, in the shower at the gym, when the other guy (A) in the shower starts talking to someone who just walks into the locker room (B).

B: How’re you doing?
A:Fine, a little tired. We were looking at the SARS virus at work on Fri—
[BIG SNEEZE]–a, on Friday.

B:[pauses] Was it dead?
A:Well, it was in a dish under the microscope. It’s pretty easy to kill a virus — just take it out of the body.

Meanwhile, I’m silently freaking the fuck out. You just can’t say you were working with SARS and then sneeze, whether it was dead or not. I don’t understand biology enough to know not to freak out. Of course, I don’t really believe I’m suddenly going to get really sick, but I was certainly none too impressed with A sneezing right next to me, after having worked with the thing. Of course, I didn’t let anyone know I was freaking out. I finished my shower (soaping extra-thoroughly), got out, got dressed and came to work as usual.

Meanwhile, my folks, both hospital workers in Toronto, apparently have to have their temperature taken to go to work in the morning. If it’s up, Quarantine! Visitors are not allowed into the hospitals, which must suck, and generally people are totally overreacting, much like I nearly did today.

Welcome to the post-antibiotic age, kids!