Ebola

I have been very upset. I reckon I might as well write about Ebola.

A long time ago, like when I was 18, I read 'The Hot Zone' by Preston. It tells the story of the 1976 Ebola epidemic in what had been Zaire in those days. My empathy, apparent even back then, stronger now, felt for those poor people who died in such a horrible way.

I know what Ebola can do. It is a hemorrhagic fever virus, causes fatal bleeding and organ failure. Prognosis is very grim.

It is a dangerous health threat, to be sure.

However, Ebola doesn't spread like the flu. A person with the symptoms is not in any shape to visit with people but that is no excuse to be lax in how you behave. Don't kiss, have sex, suck, whatever with the sick one. Don't handle what they use. Keep a distance even though you want to help.

It is unlikely to be a pandemic issue in the United States but both the CDC and the WHO say it can 'mutate', 'evolve' is how I see it, and one never can be too sure.

I won't worry about Ebola. My anxiety disorder is killing me. I need no outside help with that.

There is an Ebola outbreak on a smaller scale in the Congo right now. That is the strain that affected those people in the same region in 1976.

Sanitation isn't like it is here in parts of Africa. Customs are different as well. This is why it spreads there.

That very reason should allay fears of this virulent, extremely dangerous, viral disease affecting America.