The recent story of airline passengers exposed to a strain of TB by another passenger is an eye-opener. Frankly, I've grown to hate plane travel. Whenever I see one of those vintage ads of men in suits and fedoras and women in dresses, pearls and heels boarding a plane I feel a twinge of jealousy. Believe me, I love living in today's world, but with airline travel becoming the 21st century equivalent of a bus trip I sometimes long for those more genteel days.
Quite honestly, I'm also convinced that the worst illness I've had in the last five years was at least partially (if not entirely) due to plane travel. A couple years back Chris and I hopped a commuter jet from Baltimore to Boston for the weekend. Within 36 hours of arriving we were both flat on our backs, staring at the ceiling of her sister's home. Of course, that is, when we weren't crawling to the bathroom and sleeping on its tile floor because we didn't have the energy to move.
Was the plane responsible? I don't know for sure, but being sealed in the germ-packed tube probably didn't help any.
This blogger makes an interesting point about this recent health scare and the continuing failure of our country to have a national healthcare plan. As more and more workers – legal and illegal – work in the food and service industries, one wonders if we're not playing a dangerous game of Russian roulette that will result in an epidemic.
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