I’ve been trying to stay optimistic about all this swine flu stuff, but it hasn’t been easy. The media is screaming about how everyone in Mexico City is terrified. People who live here admit to being terrified. Deep down, I’m a little scared too.
It’s weird how all this has evolved. Friday I didn’t care. Saturday I went out, bought paint, took pictures of people in face masks, went to lunch… and then I got a scratchy throat. I curled up under a blanket and gulped an E-Boost, and searched the Internet on whether everyone with swine flu actually dies. Couldn’t find the answer so I asked Crayton, “Am I going to die from the swine flu? I mean, I know we’re all going to die eventually, but am I….?” He sighed. “You’re not going to die from the swine flu.”
Yesterday I felt much better, so I went to the gym. Part of me wondered whether I was signing my death sentence by using a possibly-infected elliptical machine. (Whatever, I’m going back today, pigs be damned.) Now I’m starting to think: Is it really bad that I don’t have a face mask? Soldiers haven’t handed them out in my neighborhood. I figured every pharmacy would be out, too, so I haven’t asked. But without a face mask am I… exposing myself?
The yogic side of me says it’s completely useless to be scared, because that wastes energy and doesn’t accomplish anything. It’s crazy to worry about something you can’t see or smell or hear. More than that, it creates stress, and that lowers the immune system, making way for a big ol’ swine to barge in and lounge on the veiny sofas of your bloodstream.
Today, I am ignoring my fear. I’m going to finish painting my living room, go to the grocery store, write, and make orange bread pudding from an old cookbook of my grandmother’s. I’m not going to get scared that the city seems much quieter today than on a usual Monday, and that I didn’t hear the guy yelling “GAAAS!” this morning (I think that’s what he yells), and that no one is honking their horns.
Maybe I will ask the grocery-store pharmacy for a tapabocas. Just to cover all my bases. But I am NOT going to obsessively read the news. That just makes everything worse.
I hear you on the sore throat thing. Life in high-altitude, dirty-air Mexico City means frequent throat irritation, especially this time of year, when there’s also lots of tree pollen and dust.
I’ve stopped using Facebook, since it was only making me anxious (especially about my own ambivalence — I’d log on and be like “oh wow, everyone is freaking out, but not me. Am I stupid?”)
I’m undecided on the gym. I went on Friday, before the panic had peaked. Gyms are notorious for harboring germs (more of the bacterial and fungal varieties, though).