About a week after I returned from Liberia I got a cold. It started with a headache - a classic early Ebola symptom. Being perhaps a little run down after an intense period of work and travel, it hit me hard, and I felt exhausted and weak. The thought crept into the corner of my mind, what if I have Ebola?
Being a rational sort of gal I knew this was intensely unlikely. I was in a 'low risk' category. High risk people are the family of Ebola sufferers, medical workers and aid workers in affected communities or treatment centres. As a foreign visitor who had never knowingly come into contact with a sick person, I could only have contracted Ebola by touching someone or something contaminated with an Ebola patient's bodily fluids, then eating, rubbing my eyes or nose or touching a broken area of skin before washing my hands. I didn't honestly believe this had happened.
But it was just possible ... so how far should I go in taking precautions? Should I sleep in the spare room and keep my husband away? Should I refuse entry to my home when my friend visits with her 11 month old baby? Should I try not to touch my young niece and nephew? It's easy to be logical when it is only your own health at stake, but the thought of putting loved ones at risk bred a gnawing anxiety.
I'm just one person with access to good information sources - so I carried on as normal and checked my temperature regularly for my own peace of mind. But what happens when you multiply that nagging doubt, that hypothetical guilt, to a whole population? Only a minority may be acutely affected by Ebola, but no one is untouched - the whole of West Africa is on edge.
Being a rational sort of gal I knew this was intensely unlikely. I was in a 'low risk' category. High risk people are the family of Ebola sufferers, medical workers and aid workers in affected communities or treatment centres. As a foreign visitor who had never knowingly come into contact with a sick person, I could only have contracted Ebola by touching someone or something contaminated with an Ebola patient's bodily fluids, then eating, rubbing my eyes or nose or touching a broken area of skin before washing my hands. I didn't honestly believe this had happened.
But it was just possible ... so how far should I go in taking precautions? Should I sleep in the spare room and keep my husband away? Should I refuse entry to my home when my friend visits with her 11 month old baby? Should I try not to touch my young niece and nephew? It's easy to be logical when it is only your own health at stake, but the thought of putting loved ones at risk bred a gnawing anxiety.
I'm just one person with access to good information sources - so I carried on as normal and checked my temperature regularly for my own peace of mind. But what happens when you multiply that nagging doubt, that hypothetical guilt, to a whole population? Only a minority may be acutely affected by Ebola, but no one is untouched - the whole of West Africa is on edge.
No comments:
Post a Comment