# 313
I occasionally get emails asking me if I’m worried about the situation in Indonesia, or in Egypt, or some other H5N1 hotspot in the world, and so far, I’ve always replied that, “I’m concerned, not worried”.
A subtle difference, perhaps: but one worth noting.
Whenever I see outbreaks of the virus, particularly in humans, my level of interest and concern goes up. I see the potential for this virus to jump to a human-to-human strain, and that would be a disaster. But so far, it is just a potential.
I wake up each morning (usually quite early) fully prepared to find some indicator that the virus has learned a new, and very nasty trick. But that is not to say I expect it, I am simply prepared for that eventuality. I accept that it is possible. I don’t believe it is inevitable.
As a young medic I learned that worrying about the `next call’, the next crisis, was a short road to driving myself nuts. You can’t spend your life on full alert, anticipating the worst, ready to jump at the sound of the bell. That is how many paramedics burn themselves out, and early on, I figured out I was doing a pretty good job of it.
The solution I found was that in order to function, I had to take each call, and each shift, one at a time. I prepared myself with training. I had the equipment I would need, and the skills I could muster, and then I allowed myself the luxury of believing in myself; that I would handle what every came along at the time.
It worked. I found I could have a life, and switch gears a dozen or more times a shift to deal with medical emergencies.
So, while I watch the events in Indonesia unfold with great interest, I do so without undue alarm. What we are seeing may turn out to be nothing more than a repeat of last winter: a series of brush fires that are contained, or fail to spread. It is my great hope that the H5N1 virus continues to sputter and fail in its attempts to become a more competent pathogen.
When we begin to see large groups of cases spreading throughout some community, hospitals overrun with patients, and clear signs of human-to-human transmission, then I will be worried.
But a few clusters do not a pandemic make.
We run the risk of running ourselves ragged, raising our personal alert levels every time a new case is reported somewhere in the world. Yes, the next case could be the one. It could signify the virus has changed, and with it the world. But that change may never come, or it may not come for quite some time.
We won’t know until it happens.
Undoubtedly, I will be among the last to declare a pandemic has begun. I will need to see clear signs that it is sustainable and spreading. And so I fully expect others to make the call before I do. I can live with that. This isn’t a contest to see who can spot the pandemic first.
None of this is to say I doubt that a pandemic could happen. I believe it could. Today, tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, or sometime in the future.
But until that happens, life goes on. We have time to prepare, to learn more about the threat, and to enjoy our lives, our friends, and our families.
For if it does happen, we will look back at our time now and think of this as `The good old days’, and it would have been a shame to have squandered them.
