Showing posts with label flu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flu. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Catch-Up.

Random fact of the day: In my world where everything has horrible germs on it, and I can't touch anything, I like to delude myself that germs cannot live on paper or cloth. Sometimes it's all that gets me through in life. I try to force myself to not wash my hands after touching papers that people have handed me, or to die a thousand deaths at sorting through some clothes someone donated to me (OK OK I STILL HAVE TO WASH AFTER THAT SECOND PART). But knowing that germs are everywhere, I still like to pretend they're not on fabric or paper. It gets me by, thinking those are safer to touch than, say, doorknobs and toilet flushers and restaurant menus and EVERYTHING ELSE IN THIS GODFORSAKEN WORLD. I like to think paper and cloth/fabric can't harbor germs. Even though I know I'm wrong. But let me enjoy my fantasy world.



This holds true except for USPS mail. After I open my mail I wash my hands with a quickness. Because, that's shit's been from New Jersey to Texas to Portland to Seattle and touched by millions of bum-bum germs and I can't have that.

But since you can't soak books in bleach before reading (yea though I've given this much thought and have attempted to perfect a scenario in which this is plausible), I have to take my chances and just bite the bullet and go for it and OMG TOUCH THINGS SOMETIMES.



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In other news, Maya is back in Pre-K, and she's taking swimming lessons the same day, so our Mondays and Thursdays are really super busy. Stresses me out, the getting up early and the wrangling two kids just to get Maya home from school (unbuckling the giant heavy baby from her mystery carseat contraption just to take her inside for 340 second to pick up my big girl, the load everyone up, sani some hands, then go home and have Maya take off her shoes, strip down to her nudey pants--



--and wash her hands and wash my hands and use hand-sani again, and clean the baby and clean the lunchbox and just generally disinfect. Coming home from anywhere it far more complicated and stressful than packing up to go OUT, even though going out means loading up the entire house and the proverbial kitchen sink. Because coming home means there has to be a system in place whereby the kids' shoes are off and clothes are off and hands and clothes are cleaned immed before they touch anything. It's touch to wrangle--it's hard with just two kids--how do OCDers with more kids handle it?

Plus, Maya is a major nail-biter and always has her fingers in her mouth. I've trained her well not to touch her eyes or nose, but she bites her nails on the constant. Her fingers are always in the mouth. This makes kitty angry.



 So surely cold and flu germs are having a party in there, all up in her mouth from her grody nails. Good times.

As for swim class, it's driving my nuts. Maya has a good time just bobbing about in the ass soup bum-bum chowder water, but there's got to be more than taking one turn every 6 kids just to take one around a very small swimming zone, with no real instruction (the instructors just carry the kids through the water basically). I look at it like, it's a chance to get poor stifled Maya out of the house and do something that she enjoys, but I can't help wish we were getting our money's worth. They also scam us on time--classes are half an hour but we're lucky to get 20 minutes of time out of it, split among a whole bunch of kids. You can only spend so much tie going over "What's a pool rule?" (where the kids have no idea what he's even asking) or being asked "How do we use a paddle board, to we sit on it? Do we ride it like a horse? Nooooo!" before the kids are finally asked to jump in. And he doesn't teach kids to jump far without help (he underestimates their bravery), or to bob underwater, or other important things. I want some technique taught, and I'm not finding it. Oh well. We'll give it a few more tries before deciding whether to continue.






Either way, having Pre-K and swim on the same day is stressful to the max. I am a person who does not like to have anything on my schedule, anything looming in the future, appointments, dates with friends, doctors, etc. I look at my schedule and see flu shot vax appointments, routine vax appointments, play dates, coffee with a good friend, school, swim, and an upcoming birthday to plan, and I get really overwhelmed. I know I should be able to take this day by day, moment by moment, but I get so caught up in the overwhelmitude.

I just feel like I'm not equipped to deal with daily life. I mean, daily life means getting up early, getting breakfast going, packing lunches, taking the kids to school or playdates, trying to squeeze in the baby's nap, running errands, picking up Maya from school, usually making a Starbucks run for her for a kids' hot chocolate (because she's spoiled like that), and oh yes, cleaning this endless pit of a house that I cannot stay on top of. For someone who panics easily, it's tough to want to do anything or go anywhere, but when I give into that, that's just perpetuates the evil cycle of isolation and loneliness and depression. Then I just stay at home more or want to cancel every appointment on the book or whatever.

I fully expected life to get a little more assbutt difficult after Maya started Pre-K, and I'm trying to take it in stride, but the very moment that Maya comes home with the stomach flu or rotavirus H1N1, my first instinct will be to withdraw her from school again. Which I can't. It's not an option this time. Kid's gotta go to school. Mama has to suck it up.

So I guess we're in for it. A year or two of sick ALL the time,


Gotta put in my big-girl panties and buck up. But it's just so hard. I live with constant stress that eats away at my at night and makes me wake up at 4 am thinking 23749023709432 thoughts, none of which I can really control, but all of which upset me anyway. I'm a work in progress, but I sure as shit hope to see some progress soon.




Friday, September 14, 2012

Fun Friendly Phobic Fact Friday.

"Science Is Fun and Useful"
by Jo







This is one of the most kickass videos I've ever seen. (1) Because this guy is awesome; (2) because the wisdom he imparts is true and important re: the viruses with the highest-known fatality rates; and (3) because this guy is awesome.

So let's do watch.



(Totally can't get it to embed AARRRRGGGHH)


Let's just start with his opening line, "There's a lot of stuff out there that's trying to kill us, right now, and today, I'm gonna talk about the ones that are the best at it. The Five Deadliest Infectious Diseases in the World."

The 10 minute 23 second video is worth your while; however, if you're all tl;dr? and you don't feel like watching the entire thing? Then let me just summarize, BumBumStyle:


  • The Spanish Flu (1917-1918) was a notorious infectious disease, also known as...wait for it...H1N1. It killed more than 30 million people worldwide. ( Now you may recall that in 2009 there was also mass hysteria over a resurgence of the pandemic H1N1, a.k.a. Swine Flu to the point that you could not find face masks or hand sani in any drugstore anywhere.) Anyway, the first outbreak had a case fatality rate of 20%, and apparently, 20% (!!) is so minor in the grand scheme of things that it's not even worth talking about. Bygones. Let's move on, shall we?



  • Let's take Nipah, which has an average case fatality rate of about 50% (other online sources claim up to 75%). It seems that around 1999, pig farmers started coming down with respiratory issues, and inflammation of the brain that caused hallucinations, along with seizures (and should you wonder, no, "not the good kind of seizures," according to SciShow). What.




Outbreaks continued in India and Bangladesh, the disease mainly spread by bats, at which point and in which place the death rate became around 100 mother fucking percent. Are you hearing me. 100%. 

And what's worse, you suddenly didn't need a got-damn bat or pig or a batpig or a pigbat to give you Nipah, you get could get it human-to-human. And then you'd fucking die. Dead. Deceased. Of a miserable death.


Pigbat!!


In 2001, in Siliguri, India, there were cases of Nipah where 75% of cases were traced back to people who had merely visited the local hospital. Just by being there. In that building. Just by, say, strolling in to give a loved one some pink carnations and a "Get Well Soon" Mylar balloon. Maybe a Peace Lily or two.



"Get well soon! I hope you recover from your Nipah! As if!"

Perhaps best of all, according to the WHO, there is no treatment or vaccine available for either humans or animals. Which might explain why up to 100% of the people infected die dead.
So that is of little interest to you. After all, you do not live in Siliguri, India. So let's talk about H5N1 (commonly known as Bird Flu). 




  • H5N1 didn't used to be easily transmissible to humans, but then scientists went and got all 10-year-old-boy on us and asked, "What would happen if I did this? Let's see if I can do this!! Let me dick around with something! What would happen if I did that? Let's fukkin' blow shit up, man!111@@!"

Apparently, this tinkering made flu transmissible to ferrets, which have (for some reason) the same immune system as humans. Which sucks because this newly and easily transmissible Bird Flu kills at least 54% of people who get it. For fuck's SAKE, ferrets?? Good times. 
There is a government vaccine available for H5N1, but it has apparently been stockpiled and is not available to the public. Good times.

---

And I quote: "Now Hank, you're saying I'm not a Malaysian bat-handler and I've already stocked my pantry with enough Skittles and Diet Sierra Mist to get me through the Bird Flu pandemic."

So in other words, I'm golden, right? Read on, friends, read on.


  • In 1967, Germany started testing polio vaccines on monkeys from Uganda. Suddenly the scientists came down with wicked fevers, vomiting, diarrhea, massive internal bleeding, and circulatory failure. Good times.

Corellation: Messing with monkey parts = contracting killer diseases. Quit poking around monkey parts, you zoophile.


After further investifuckingation, they eventually isolated the virus known as Marburg Hemorrhagic Fever.



In one year alone, 23% of the scientists exposed died. It shows up everywhere from Africa to the United States, where it kills more than 80%. EIGHTY. PER. CENT. Scientists say that Marburg Hemmorhagic Fever is "the #1 virus you most want to mother fucking got damn avoid," if I may paraphrase. Let's try to do that, people. Start by washing your damn dirty hands and then not messing with monkey parts. But I mean, there is more than one good reason never to mess with monkey parts. For one, that's a hell of a lot of bum-bum germs.


So even if you live in the USA, never handle bats, and have thousands of Snickers and gallons of Orange Crush available in your storm shelter, you are not safe from terrifying diseases.


  • A cousin of Marburg Fever is the Zaire Ebola virus (a.k.a. ZEBOV). It is the second most deadly disease in the world and causes everything from vomiting to fever to failure of blood vessels, which causes bleeding under the skin (groce).  ZEBOV has a mortality rate of 83%, and in the early 2000s, it killed more than 90% of the people infected. That's a shit of a lot, people.

  • As a sidenote, what do these all viruses (virii?) have in common?
All of these viruses are Zoonotic ("transmitted to humans from animals"). Especially from bats. Fuck you, bats. I hate you in the face.



For these and other reasons, let's just avoid adopting your local neighborhood Battus Vampirus, even though it may be precious and have a cute little snout and you want to name it Edward.



Back to our regularly scheduled program about shit what will kill you.


So, after reading about ZEBOV, you're probably wondering, what disease is deadlier than 90% fatal?? This may surprise you, my peeps.

The deadliest disease in the world is not influenza, is not typhoid, is not dysentery,






...but is rabies, with case fatality rate of, oh, you know, whatever, about 100%. Bygones.

What? Like, Spiffy my sweet little Labradoodle can kill my ass? Or rather, what: like, sweet little Cujo can go from this



to this



and I won't have a chance in heaven once symptoms present?

You're saying that man's best friend can harbor the greatest plague known to humanity? Even though there's a vaccine and shit?

Yes, there is a vaccine, but once you've been diagnosed with the symptoms of the disease, you face almost certain death. There is a case fatality rate of p. much 100%.

According to Science Guy, there have been fewer than 10 recorded cases EVER IN THE HISTORY EVER OF THE ENTIRE WORLD EVER of people who have EVER been diagnosed with rabies and who have EVER lived to tell about it. Ever.

Apparently it's a terrible way to go: Early flu-like symptoms, then it targets your central nervous system, and you become agitated, delirious, and have seizures. Then you will experience paralysis, especially of the throat and jaw, making it difficult to swallow liquids (which is why patients avoid water and which is why rabies is known as hydrophobia). Ma! He's got The Hydrophobe!!

Old Yeller,
Come back Yeller,


Best doggone dog in the West.


With rabies, your pulse and blood pressure will vary wildly, and along with other v. unpleasant symptoms like acute pain and mania, then you will experience coma and heart failure respiratory failure and death. 100% of the time.

And although bats have caused all kinds of other really, really bad shit (see above), they usually get a bad rap when it comes to rabies.  Everyone is all, "OMG OMG IT'S A BAT it's going to get stuck in my hair and bite me and I will get the rabies! OMG BATS!" But actually, about 97% of cases in humans come from dog bites. Out, out damn Spot!

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This ends your science lesson for the day and your very extensive Fun Friendly Phobic Fact Friday.

Love,
Jo

Sunday, March 11, 2012

DOL OCD OMG WTF FML.

So the other day I headed in to the Department of Licensing, for to renew my license. I was two weeks too late, but whatever.



First, I had to find the son of a bitch. It was hidden in a little hellhole of a strip mall. Signs would be nice, people. Signs stating "DOL! YOU FOUND IT! ENTER HYAR! GET YER NEW LICENSE RIGHT HYAR! STEP RIGHT UP! POPCORN PEANUTS CANDIED APPLES DOL, STEP RIGHT UP!"

Or at least a storefront sign reading, "Licensing." But whatever.

Anyway, after breaking two small sweats and U-turning all over creation, I found it. Then I had to find the fucking door. I'm not even kidding. I have never experienced this particular phenomenon before: Can't find the entrance. Can't find the right door. Are you serious? Is this real life?



Honest to God. I think I found myself entering one door only to exit another, then backtrack and enter the previous door and then suddenly find myself on the sidewalk. Took a turn round the corner, saw another door, and entered it, found myself in Taco Bell, then repeated the process only to find myself twelve sizes too large.


Honestly. WHAT THE FUCK. God help me I just want to stand in line for two hours so that I can lie about my weight, agree to donate my corneas, and be off. But whatever.

So I finally found my way awkwardly in, then had to ask like seven random pedestrians what the hell I was supposed to do from there. I was like, "O hai, you motherfucker, um, what's this partic'alar line for?" and "I need to renew my license, do you have any idea where I'm supposed to Christing go?" and "Where's the end of this here got-damn line??" (At which point I was told I had just totally cut and was in fact at the front of the line. But whatever.)

Then I tried to use the "renew online" computer option that was straight the shit out of the Paleolithic era. It has a mouse ball, ffs. A mouse ball. I entered my legal name, my birth date, my eye color, and the last four digits of my SS #. All right out in the open n shit. Meanwhilst, I was all paranoid that someone was watching me and gleaning my info so as to impersonate me later and steal my life and credit and eventually become me, SWF-style.



Oh, and ALSO I was freaking the fuck out over the germs. OH GOD THE GERMS. The rollerball, the keyboard, the enter-key, the filthy hordes, the masses...just...the...all of it...touching things...breathing air...I wanted to die. But whatever.

To top it off, once I'd defouled my pristine fingers and had attempted to renew online, it told me I was not eligible. Well FUCK YOU MISTER FUCKING 1997 ROLLERBALL INTRANETS. GOD. Now I have E. Coli and semen on my hands and no updated driver's license to show for it. Fuck you and the fucking manure-covered horse you rode in on.



Finally I found the right line, and waited for a bit, only to tell a greyed, aged, spent, disilllusioned gent, "I'm here to renew my license?"

He was all, *stamp* *click* *print* "Here you go." I was number R730.

And thus, I waited. Oh how I waited. I waited, then waited some more.

It was 12:27 pm.

I had previously scheduled an appointment with my therapist, my favorite little slight, gentle-voiced, darling Indian lad, Dr. P, at 3 pm in Bellevue, at least 45 American minutes away from my current locale. I thought I was golden.

Then I waited.

-----------

I continued waiting.

Now, I know that any visit to the DOL turns into an HOURS-long ordeal. But I was going at noontime on a weekday. Surely that counts for something?

Turns out it doesn't. I waited. How I waited.

Meanwhile, there was assault to my every sense, from every direction. As I had found myself a seat among the unwashed masses, I thought I had chosen wisely. Then, not four minutes later, a couple made their way to the seats in front of me. I watched with disinterested interest, then observed the woman to cough. And cough. And cough. Oh how she coughed. She coughed. I was all, "Shit on a shingle. I cain't win."

The I started observing the people around me.

To the right: An ancient white-cropped lady, with lovely delicate features, but with a dry hack.

To the left: A largely man wearing red tights, which would not stop sneezing. O GOD.

To the far right: A sweating, bereddened person which kept snorting down their phlegm and coughing up crud.

To the far-left: A small child of about three who had the world's worst croupy cough. Bark. Bark. Bark.

In addition, I observed many a person wearing purple dreadlocks, or wearing what was clearly last week's ensemble, or wearing electric-blue skinnypants and an orange faux-hawk, or wearing size XXXXXXL, saggy, befouled yellow sweatpants. But whatever. No judgment here. Carry on.

Anyway. I literally spent the vast majority of the time trying not to breathe. Do you know how hard that is? You sense that someone to your left has a terrible cold, so you turn to the right, lower your eyes, and halt your breathing when they cough. Or you know that someone to your right should be at home in bed, eating chicken soup, consulting their pharmacologist, and they're sneezing every 1.5 minutes, and you are cursing your very God, asking Him Why Have You Forsaken Me, and you are questioning your very will to live, but you've already committed 45 minutes to this shit, so you have to stay?

It's hard out here for a germaphobe.


Bygones.

As 2:15 pm came ever closer, I started to think, "This was all a waste. I exposed myself to the dregs of society just to have to pack up and leave before ever earning my silly fucking temporary paper license, cuz I gots to leave like NOW."

But I stuck it out.

Part of the time, my attention was occupied by a twosome whom I had previously thought was "a couple," but who turned out to be mother & son. The mother didn't look a day over 24, and neither did her son. I was all, Wuh fuh?? But this man called her Mom. Now, unless this was the world's sickest who's-your-mommy relationship, she had indeed birthed him from her strawberry-blonde loins. I was fascinated. Except that they Kept Fucking COUGHING. God DAMMIT. Is no one, nowhere, healthy at any given moment?? JFC.

Finally, at 2:19 pm, although I had to leave at 2:15 pm, my number was called. I made my way nonchalantly up to desk #7, even though I knew all eyes were on me, as all my eyes had been on everyone before me. I kept thinking, "Does my ass look big? Do my new highlights look brassy? Shit. They're all judging me, as I once judged them for having The Common Cold or pants a size too small. FML."

Then as I approached desk #7, I realized there were more horrors in my future. In order to renew my license, I had to Press My Very Fucking Forehead against they "Eye Test Machine," letting the woman at the desk know whether the flashing lights were inside the box, outside the box, or on both sides. I had to let her know what the letters were, left to right. I had to let her know what colors I saw. All this required that I press my very brain on a germified, coldified, fluified, face-oil-ified nasty forehead presser. I attempted to zoom throught that shit ASAP. I was all, "RIGHT!LEFT!RIGHT!BOTH!E, G, F, Z!OUTSIDE!INSIDE!!FOR GODSAKES GREEN! RED! MOTHERFUCKING BLUE!!!!!11111111!!"

Finally I was granted my license renewal--not that anything has CHANGED, you motherfuckers, except my goddamn weight, yes, I know I am not 125 U.S.LBS anymore, sheeee-it, I've grown two kids in my belly, and I am still 5'4", and my middle initial is still E., and my eyes are still blue, my hair is still brown, except I got some kickass blonde highlights last week, BUT I DIGRESS...

Anyway. I got outta there at 2:19 pm, giving me 39-41 minutes to make my hour-long drive to make my appointment with Dr. P.

The Lord JC Hisownself was wif me. He was all, I'm your man. Because, I made it to the appointment on time.



Then I proceeded to cry my eyes out in Dr. P's office, telling him how much I suck as a mom, how often I want to smack the taste out of Maya's mouth, and how I constantly want to fucking beat the shit out of my kids all because I want some peace and quiet to read some blogs and catch up on LiveJournal.

Dr. P. upped my dose.

God bless you, Dr. P.


Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Hand Sani Roundup.

I thought it might be interesting to show you the amount and placement of the various, miscellaneous, assorted, and sundry hand-sanitizing items scattered about my homestead. Note that this does not include other disinfecting items such as Comet, bleach, Clorox wipes, Lysol sprays (although these items may make a guest appearance), or other such cleansers--this is mainly contained to hand sanitizers. I just wanted to document how they appear in every nook and cranny of my abode.

Upon entering the ancestral manse, you'll first see this to your immediate right:


Often, if you are a guest in my home, I will also have an additional spare container of hand sani gel placed on this table that you are faced with, just upon entering. This is a not-so-subtle hint to cleanse your gee-dee hands, but also provides you with a choice: Would you rather wash your hands at the sink, use hand sanitizing wipes, or just use hand sani gel? You decide. I'll at least grant you that. The disinfecting of the hands is otherwise nonnegotiable, unless I'm feeling particularly vulnerable or insecure that day and can't bring myself to ask you to clean your hands. Which is 99% of the time, unless you are acquainted with my OCD. 

Next, only a few steps into the living room, you'll see this, a well-loved container of Germ-X and some baby-friendly wipes on what we call the "lamp table":


Febreeze peeks out behind its stronger and more important siblings. Here we have alcohol-based hand sani for the hardcore germaphobe, plus a more gentle, kid-friendly, earth-friendly, biodegradable benzalkonium-chloride-based antimicrobial wipes. The Germ-X is used liberally by me and the paterfamilias; the Germinator wipes are used more sparingly and on the younger generation, such as when we come home after someone has touched the baby's hands or she has touched a--gasp--restaurant table.

If you take a firm left into the kitchen and take a peek into the undersink cabinets, you will of course be faced with an onslaught of harsh chemicals, but if you merely glance upwards, you'll see this:


This is above the kitchen sink, the sink where we go to wash immediately after coming home; and when we are done washing, we employ a liberal use of this very hand sani. 

To the left of the sink, just hanging out on the stovetop, is a box of Purell wipes. These, I include in my daughter's lunch box when I pack her lunches for preschool.



"Perfect for...Lunch boxes!" Why yes, I think so!

Just next to the kitchen area, in fact where I am sitting at this very second, is the table/my laptop area. To my right you'll find this teency-tincey sani:


A little blurry, but it's a Bath & Body Works "Apple Pie" purse-sized sani. Smells sooooo delicious, and does the job if I decide in the middle of a blog entry that I'm just not sterile enough and I need a burst of chemicals. Hey! Now's as good a time as ever! *hand-sanis*

I also have one of these by my bed.

If you take a stroll down the hall, you'll see my purse, where I have tossed it haphazardly. (Hey, I said I'm a germ freak, not a neat freak.) Inside my purse is the omnipresent bottle of Purell. I have to refill this little guy an awful lot. I use it with alarming regularity.



And should you continue to meander down the hall and need to use the bathroom facilities, this is what you will be faced with, as a guest in our home:


BAM!

"Regular-sized" hand sani provided for size reference. Because we have BIG-ASS HAND SANI in our bathroom. So that you can't miss it. HINT HINT. I also have the following picture taped to the inside of our bathroom door:




Insulting? Perhaps, to those of you who Get It, but you have no idea how many guests and family members we've had to our home who DO. NOT. WASH. their hands after using the bathroom. (From afar, outside the bathroom, you can hear the water run. Or not run, as the case may be.) So we've decided to treat ALL our guests like kindergartners and remind them of the basics of hygiene. Anyway.

Then there's the baby's room. I always wash with soap and water after I change Naomi's diaper, because nothing beats soap and water, but occasionally, I need to finish diapering her or clothing her before I am able to get to a sink. In which case, a gallon dollop of hand sani is nice to have at the ready. So this is in Naomi's room at her changing table:



So that we can X the Germs. 

Next comes the master bedroom and bath.

Here is what you'll find just above my head, on my side of the bed:


Purell for when I'm feeling grody and don't want to get grodiness on my Kindle, and Cetaphil lotion for when my got-damn hands are dried and cracked within an inch of their very lives from overPurelling.

And last but not least, the master bath. Here is what you'll see if you take a wander there:




Or should I say,



Another tub of Sani-Hands. This is the particular tub I usually use when sanitizing my forearms and elbows for when they have rested on the grotesque tables at restaurants.

Also:



Another absolutely *BAM!* GARGANTOR container of hand sani, thanks to Costco or the dollar store. We go though these at a terrifying rate. And finally, next to our GARGANTOR tub of hand sani, you will also find, bafflingly enough, some Hibiclens. You know, in case we plan to perform some home surgery or something. 



And there you have it. All most of the hand sanitizers in my home. The ones I could think of, anyway.

All I have to say is, when bat flu strikes, you'll wish you were a guest in my home.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The Hygiene Hypothesis, P. Much Take Three

So Darlena over at ParenTwin wrote up her rebuttal to my post. My original post, "P. Much," was here, and Dar wrote up a fine fine piece entitled The Hygiene Hypothesis, Take Two (Take Two--OMG--twins--pun intended??).

And now that I've spent two days finger-babbling and belaboring unrelated points, alas I realized that none of what I was writing was the rebuttal-of-a-rebuttal like I had intended. For two reasons, I think: (1) that Darlena didn't really disagree, per se, with the gist of my post and my points on hygiene and why the hypothesis stinks--rather, she just explained that there are certain risks that she's willing to take, whereas I am not; and (2) that it turned into more of an introspection on my part, because of some of Dar's statements.

Crapsicle!! So much for the big war we had planned!

Anyway, I will say this, so I can at least post something to do with the Hygiene Hypothesis: What I hate most about it (and about people's uninformed spouting off about it) is that people take it too far. People wildly misinterpret it. And while I think that even at its true core, the Hygiene Hypothesis is lamesauce and ridicballs, all it basically says is that early exposure to allergens and infectious agents causes fewer incidences of asthma, eczema, and allergies in general. It doesn't say that by catching tons and tons of colds and flu as kids makes you less likely to be sick from them later. Getting a lot of colds in preschool doesn't mean you're not going to be allergic to peanuts, doesn't mean you won't get eczema, and doesn't mean you will get fewer colds later, goddammit.

Not to mention, there are so, so many other issues to take into consideration. Some people think that the increase in childhood asthma could be related to swimming pools, for baby Jesus' sake. Then you have to consider possible over-exposure to certain allergens, and the way children are fed, and where they're from, and endless other contributing factors:

"There are many other hypotheses which aim to explain the increase in allergies in developed nations, many of which are also related to the other. A few other major areas of focus in the literature include infant feeding, over-exposure to certain allergens and exposure to certain pollutants. Infant feeding covers a range of topics which include whether babies are breast fed or not and for how long, when they are introduced to solid foods and the type of these foods, whether they are given cow's milk and even the types of processing that the milk undergoes."

So, you see, there are dozens of hypotheses that aim to figure out why certain conditions like asthma are on the rise. But for some reason, people latched on to Mr. Strachan's Hygiene Hypothesis with an iron grip and refuse to let go, claiming that illness is somehow healthy, people who also refuse to use their noodles and inject a little common sense here and there.

Not to mention, there are studies that come to a completely different conclusion and argue against the Hygiene Hypothesis:

"The 'hygiene hypothesis' postulates that reduced exposure of children to microorganisms and parasites increases the probability that they will develop immunologic disorders including allergic diseases.  It has been used to explain the increased incidence of such diseases and the increase in asthma in developed countries compared to underdeveloped countries.  There is some experimental evidence supporting this hypothesis.  However, the epidemiological data are not uniformly consistent with this hypothesis.  A recent Australian study (Ponsonby et al, International Journal of Epidemiology, 2008, 37, 559–569) showed a reduction in the prevalence of asthma and hay fever without evidence for a decrease in hygiene. Asthma prevalence has also been dropping in other developed countries.  In addition, asthma is more prevalent in poor inner city neighborhoods in the US and these areas are unlikely to be more hygienic than the more affluent areas.  In addition, improved hygiene is not the only environmental difference between developed and underdeveloped more rural countries.  For example, in more developed countries people tend to live in tight buildings which are fabricated from and contain artificial materials which emit chemicals that could possibly facilitate the development of allergies. [Further,] It is in fact well established that poor sanitation practices contribute to high infant and child mortality rates in underdeveloped countries."

Another study also found evidence arguing against the Hygiene Hypothesis:

"The study by Dutch investigators at the Erasmus University found although children in day care got more colds and other infections, they were just as likely as other children to go on to develop asthma or another allergy by the age of eight. The children who went to nursery and who had older siblings had more than quadruple the risk of frequent chest infections and double the risk of wheezing in early life, with no obvious pay off in terms of later protection from allergy."
So which is it? Which hypothesis to believe? Why did those hypotheses never catch on? Why are people so quick to say, "It's OK, she's puking up last night's fish & chips now, but she's boosting her immune system with every heave!" Well, while you're trying to make up your mind, just consider this quick and simple question: Dirty hands or clean hands? Which is healthier? I remind you, we learned this in kindergarten. So mankind, quit telling me that my child will be healthier after poking the dog's butthole and then eating a bowl of popcorn.



(Or you may just want to pick up a box or two of dog bum-bum covers.)



Next up: The introspective blog that Dar's post also inspired.

Monday, August 29, 2011

P. Much.

I swore I'd never discuss this with you, and that if you tried to blather on to me about it, I would kick you in the slats. But a good friend's blog post got me thinking, and when you get me thinking, you get me ranting, and I cannot be stopped. So here we are: Discussing The Hygiene Hypothesis.

The link I am responding to from is my buddy Darlena's blog, ParenTwin, which you can find here. She's planning a "rebuttal" of sorts, so I will be sure to link you to that later. :)

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Recently, Darlena was posting about the dreaded First Time at the Cesspool Preschool. Her poor kiddos got sick p. much immediately.

Now, this is not uncommon. Everyone talks about how as soon as your kids start daycare, they're going to be sick p. much constantly. If they start preschool and have never been in daycare, they're also going to be sick p. much constantly. What is their reasoning? "Because they've never been exposed to these germs before."

In Darlena's case, though, her kids have been exposed to tons of stuff, stuff any typical kid has been exposed to: germs that would make my skin crawl and my OCD spiral out of control, because I am not the typical mom and my kids aren't allowed to be the typical kids. Darlena is an extremely active mother, and her kids get a lot of exposure to the world at large--she runs a billion errands a day and takes her kids along, she takes them for walks, they're at the park p. much all the time, and they have had more playdates in their little finger than my kids have had in their entire life.*

*Pretend this metaphor made sense. Move along.

So, her kids have been exposed, like most kids. Maybe not to daycare, but to shopping cart handles, public restrooms, diaper "incidents," potty chair "incidents," playdates with other little kids, and surely poop on a hot tin slide or two. Her kids do not live in a bubble. If anyone's do, MINE do.

And yet, her kids got sick immediately after starting school, as is typical. Why? Surely they've been exposed to plenty of germs and colds before. Why isn't the Hygiene Hypothesis working here?

Because it's p. much bunk.

Oh, and please recall:

"A theory has been extensively tested and is generally accepted, while a hypothesis is a speculative guess that has yet to be tested."



Sorry, hypothesis!!

Listen, I totally agree that there are certain things kids need to be exposed to. Dirt, grass, plants, well, all of nature. Dust. Animals, along with their animal dander. Things like this. But there are certain things that never, ever benefit anyone. The stomach flu. E. coli. Salmonella. Staph. MRSA.


Even things like the good old common cold or the flu. (1) How, exactly, do these bolster one's immune system; and (2) why, according to so many people, must small children be exposed to such yucky things?

Let's examine (1). Say your toddler catches a cold. She is snotty and coughy and snivelly and miserable for a week. She can't sleep because her nose is all stuffy, and if she can't sleep, neither do you. Everyone is miserable when the kid is sick. Or, even worse, let's say your tiny baby catches a cold. She doesn't even know what's going on and has no tools to deal with being sick. She can't be told, "Here, blow your nose" or "This soup will make you feel better" or even, "Honey, I know how bad you feel, but you'll get well soon." She can't even take any medicine for it! All your baby knows is that she can't breathe.

So, has this cold helped either child? Colds mutate constantly. You never become immune to catching them. Because the next one is going to be one you have never encountered before.

And if catching colds helps us avoid catching colds (a ridiculous statement in itself), then why don't we ever "grow out of it"? If we attend daycare as kids and are constantly coming down with something, and the go through school still getting sick here and there, why as adults do we still catch colds? Why as old people aren't we completely immune?

Again, because colds mutate. And catching one does not mean you will become magically stronger and not likely catch the next one. We will catch colds ALL OUR LIVES. For many people, 2-3 a year, or eve more, for their entire existence, p. much as a rule.

So. On to part (2). If we are forever going to be catching colds, why is it so important that kids are exposed so young? Everyone always spouts off about how great and wonderful it is that kids get sick. "They're strengthening their immune system! Hoorahhh!!" But if we're gonna catch colds, why not do you utmost to prevent them from happening to your little tiny ones? Why not try to wait until they are older and stronger, and mentally/physically better able to deal with them and understand that they're sick?

If you had your choice, would you want your 2-week-old baby to catch a cold? No way, right?

Well, why, then? Why wouldn't you want her to? Wouldn't it help her? Give her a nice headstart on the good old immune system? No. It would be fucking misery, and possibly dangerous to boot. Babies can choke on phlegm in the night or become so stuffed up that they die. Silently. It happens. Your non-OCD mind might not worry about a baby dying from a cold, but mine does, because I have OCD but also because it happens. A good friend of mine almost lost her daughter right there at the doctor's office, after taking her in for a regular ol' case of the sniffles. Her two-year-old suddenly turned blue and had to be taken in an ECNALUBMA to the next-door hospital and be resuscitated. Anecdata, yes, but true, and fucking scary.

So why is it so great for a 6-month-old to catch a cold? Or even a two-year-old? And why am I the crazy one for disinfecting my daughter's restaurant table, or keeping her away from sick family, or not wanting to take her to the McPlaguePlace McPlayPlace?

My older daughter, Maya, has only ever had like two colds in her life. One was when she was 7 weeks old, when my sister-in-law thoughtlessly brought her two very, very sick kids to a family get-together. We all caught that cold, and not only were we miserable, I was terrified for my infant. I basically kept vigil over her and never slept until she was better. So how did this cold benefit her? She could still catch another at any point.

But she only did one other time (funny enough, thanks to the same oh-so thoughtful sister-in-law). Just those couple of times, because we take great pains to wash and sanitize our hands, teach her not to touch her eyes, nose, or mouth when out of the house, and to maintain a clean home or clean environment, wherever we go.

According to the Hygiene Hypothesis, my kid should be sick all the time, because we put forth such effort to avoid contact with germs. My Purell Kid should catch every virus we run into because of an immune system that was never allowed to develop. But she's never sick.

Whereas certain friends of mine (theee very friends mentioned in my blog post, "The Acid Test") are sick All. The. Time. All the time. ALL THE TIME.


And they never wash their hands. Seriously, like, never ever. Not when coming home. Not before eating. Not before cooking. Not after shaking hands. Not after playing at the Children's Museum of Every Virus Known to Man. Not after pooping. Not after touching raw meat or turtles or the floor of a Wal*Mart. Never.

If you took my family, and their family, we'd p. much disprove the Hygiene Hypothesis right then and there. They are exposed to so many germs you'd think they'd have developed chainmail fucking ARMOR against colds and flu. You'd think germs would cower at the sight of them. You'd think our friends would see germs and be like, "Dude, we've HAD you before. We've rolled in you. We've eaten you. We've rubbed you in our eyes and noses. WE PWN YOU."


And yet it is my family who never gets sick. Why? Because we wash our damn dirty hands.

Now, back to Darlena. This is not to compare her to my "Acid Test" friends at all. Not remotely, because no one else could possibly be that bad. :)

But because Darlena doesn't suffer from OCD, her kids have been exposed to a typical, normal amount of germs. They've been healthy, they've been sick, and so it goes. Yet at their first exposure to preschool, they caught the sniffles.

My turn is coming up soon. My daughter enters preschool in mere days. Will she catch a cold right away?

MAYBE.

But am I glad that she has not had a dozen colds in her almost-four years?

YES.

Because they would have been of no help. We would have had a sick, miserable child on our hands, for no reason, because the next cold to come along would be a new, mutated one she had never been exposed to anyway, and she could catch it too, if we weren't careful with hygiene.

If we can agree that kids who have been exposed to a lot of germs, AND kids who have not been exposed to a lot of germs, BOTH get sick pretty frequently when beginning daycare or school (which seems to be the consensus, since whenever daycare or preschool is mentioned, the response is always, "Ohhh, prepare for constant runny noses and coughs"), then I ask you, what was the point of all the colds your kid had when they were much younger?

Being exposed to certain things does absolutely no good whatsoever. These are things like the stomach flu or all the nasties that live on commoly touched surfaces, like staph or shigella. Who ever heard of becoming immune to E. Coli or being unlikely to catch it next time you're exposed to it? Or having had food poisoning so many times that now you are untouchable? Not to mention, frequent handwashing and all-around good hygiene has drastically reduced illnesses and has extended our very lifespans.

One source says of this theoretical idea that too much cleanliness has led to an increase in asthma or allergies:

"It is in fact well established that poor sanitation practices contribute to high infant and child mortality rates in underdeveloped countries...[Thus,] A decrease in hand-washing increases the incidence of infectious diseases which may more than outweigh the benefit of a possible reduction in immune disorders."

Being exposed to certain things can be important. These things are dirt, dust, and animals. Early exposure can and does help prevent many allergies.

But being exposed to colds and flu does not "help build your immune system." Because you will never be immune to colds and flu.

If your kids are gonna get sick, it's better to have it happen when they are older, stronger, and more able to cope with being sick. And, of course, it's best to just try to avoid getting sick altogether.

It's just common sense, people. We learned it in kindergarten. Wash your hands.

---

And now for one last treat, I bring you this gem. A month or so ago, I was visiting the public restroom *shudder* at the local UW Bookstore . The stalls were all full, so I was waiting my turn. And as I waited, a boy, aged approximately nine years old, crawled, Army-style, out from under the handicapped-stall's door. Crawled. Belly-down. Hands palm-down. Face-down. Slithered. On the restroom floor. The public restroom floor. His mother said nothing of it, opened the stall door, and exited. Naturally, without washing their hands.

Many of you probably recoil in horror at imagining this, even though you aren't OCD Like Me. Why the horror? Isn't that child just bolstering his immune system? And if you say "no, that's just fucking gross," why do you think it's such a wonderful, immune-system-strengthening thing when kids catch colds or other nasties off other public surfaces, which in all likelihood are even filthier than that restroom floor? Why?

My motto: Avoid What You Can, Deal With What You Can't. And I prefer that we all avoid as many illnesses as possible. But that's just me.

P. much.