Worry is the misuse of the imagination.
That said, I'm feeling vulnerable, slightly under the weather with allergies or a slight cold. Late night last night didn't help, but couldn't be avoided.
Meanwhile, La Petite seems healthy, but knows of at least two cases of H1N1 on her campus. I want to send her a care package of hand sanitizer, tissues, and vitamin C, but I'm pretty sure she has a good supply of all three. I just want her to stay healthy. Last year's bout of mononucleosis set her back a bit, but ultimately couldn't keep her down.
Husband has been under the weather, too -- so much so that I made him take his temperature yesterday to rule out a fever. Coughing, exhausted, and more, but no fever: thank goodness for small favors.
Amigo? He's worried; worried enough to actually want a flu shot. For a 17-year-old, that's significant. I just hope his fear doesn't become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
I wash my hands almost obsessively at school and catch myself sanitizing desks, tables, and science equipment that I've rarely cleaned in the past. It's just the idea that each vial or bottle or tray that gets handled by two or three kids spreads the germs from those young scientists to two or three more. The computer lab scares me; I check for tissues first thing on the mornings we use the lab. My class washes their hands or uses hand sanitizer before they go in to type.
If everyone's healthy, why do I worry? Well, one third of my class was out with flu-like symptoms today. Last week I had five or six gone every day. A high school near us closed for two days when 40% of their students became ill. If my class is any indication, we may reach that point soon.
While worry may be the misuse of the imagination, imagining the worst may actually help me avoid it -- knock on wood, crossing fingers and toes, loading up the Neti Pot and sipping hot cider.