The new visitors here don't know this - and for the more mature readers it bears repeating: My MIL falls slightly to the left of crazy. She isn't certifiable, but is definitely diagnosable. Needs meds, won't take meds, makes everyone else as crazy as she is...so WE take the meds.
She's very nice, but very, very paranoid, imagines things, jumps to ridiculous conclusions ...your garden variety of otherwise harmless crazy.
Taking that into consideration, you can probably guess the worst/best thing that can happen to someone who is paranoid, overly imaginative and prone to panicking - compounded by an Associates Degree in Nursing - is disease. Like, H1N1.
Henceforth I refuse to refer to H1N1 as swine flu, even if pig references did make for several great puns. It is a combination of swine flu, avian flu and human flu and I don't think it is fair that piggies are taking the rap. And, anyway, in Israel they're calling it by the kosher term "Mexican Flu," which - while much more accurate - is totally politically incorrect. H1N1 it is.
On day two of the "outbreak" Hubster had to fly to rural Illinois for a professional thingamajiggy.
Immediately upon his return home, his mother called to ask if he'd caught swine flu while he was away..... In Peoria.
Not in Cancun, not in Mexico City - while he was in Peoria. At this point, no one had died in the US from H1N1 and cases here were pretty much confined to Texas, California and one of those square, western/southwestern state where cows outnumber people.
Enter my trip to Las Vegas in two weeks - that she doesn't know about. That she CANNOT find out about.
Not because she's worried about ME dying from the superflu, but because I could smuggle it home in my carry-on and transmit it to Our Lord and Savior On Earth, her only begotten son.
Me? I'm more concerned with catching Herpes from doorknobs in Sin City. Communicable disease is to Las Vegas as bovines are to those angular states - innumerable and in my mind damn-near unavoidable.
I hate Vegas. Not just because I am genetically programmed as a Morning Person so all the night life is lost on me, or because I don't care to gamble, but when I'm there I feel like I need to shower a half-dozen times a day. And not just to steam away the lovely desert nosebleeds that plague me whenever I set foot west of Iowa, but because I feel like conventioneers have recently had sex with prostitutes on every freaking surface in the state. Eeewwww.
Maybe I should double-up on my meds while I'm gone. ::shudder::