In case you were wondering, the bacterium Yersinia pestis killed one-third of the population of Europe in 1348. As an English and biology double major, people tend to look at me askance and wonder what the hell the two subjects have to do with each other. To which I say, hey, guess what, Geoffrey Chaucer lived through the Black Death in 1348, and in microbiology we spend a lot of time talking about bacteria that can kill you, so there.
When you read literature from before 1900 or so, main characters tend to drop dead quite suddenly. Consumption, ague or the bloody flux are common causes. It may just be shoddy writing on the author's part, but back then people died young of disease. Now, when you need to dispatch an inconvenient character, the car crash is pretty much the main way to go. I'm also taking creative writing, so I am well-studied in the ways of removing troublesome characters in heart-wrenching yet believable ways.
I take it as a sign of my growing maturity and wisdom that I did not wake up Sunday morning with the taste of nasty green Redbull and Zenka punch in my mouth. Having survived Homecoming, I feel it right to advise you on other important survival tips. I like most of you, and I don't want you to be prematurely written out of the novel that is life at Dartmouth. So, for the sake of everyone, GET YOUR FLU SHOT. I don't care if you've already had the flu, Odin tells you that all vaccines are evil or you hate needles. Do it. Herd immunity is important. 90 percent of the population needs to be vaccinated to protect people who are immuno-compromised or allergic to materials in vaccines. If I were in charge, we would have people go from classroom to classroom in the morning and just stick people with flu vaccines. It really isn't that hard to administer. First, find non-vaccinated person. Second, swab skin with alcohol or another disinfecting agent. Third, get needle and stick it into their arm. Fourth, seriously, most modern flu vaccines are intramuscular which means that if you have a long enough needle and find a body part with sufficient muscle tissue you actually can't screw up. It hurts less than rejection, failing a test, bad sex or being hungover, and I know most of you have had one or all of the above experiences. So get over it and get your flu shot. No one wants your gross viruses.
But just randomly sticking people with flu vaccines during 10s is most definitely unethical, which probably explains why I am not in charge. So, dear Dartmouth students, do the ethical thing and get yourself over to Dick's House or CVS ASAP. Save yourself and your peers from the misery that is a 100-degree fever during finals week.
I too, dear readers, once thought I didn't need a flu shot. I hadn't suffered a bout of the flu since my elementary school days. But then I realized that was stupid, because why depend on the whims of Lady Fortune to keep me flu free when there exists a preventative method? Granted, the vaccine only protects against 2 or 3 strains, so you could also fall horribly ill with some other fun pathogen, but hey, it's better than nothing. I got my shot on Oct. 3, so by the time this column comes out I am well past the two-week mark at which you are adequately protected from the flu. I have to say, the Dick's House flu shot clinic is one of the most efficient Dartmouth services I have ever encountered. It took less time and was more painless than getting an ID card replaced or picking up a package from Hinman.
There is a common misconception that people get sick in the winter because they are cold, and being cold makes the body more susceptible to infection. This is not entirely true. People get sick in the fall and winter because we throw together a bunch of people with developing immune systems together in poorly ventilated rooms for eight hours a day. School children, like mosquitoes for plasmodium or fleas for Yersinia pestis, are excellent disease vectors. And then those kids get their bodily secretions everywhere, thereby infecting their parents and teachers, who then spread it to everyone else. And people wonder why I don't like small children. An anecdote to support this theory: one of my good friends from home works in a swim school teaching children ages four and five to swim, and she is always sick. QED.
For those of us who are economists and not biologists, think of it in terms of cost benefit. Costs: You have to walk to the clinic and get a shot, and because you are old now they probably won't give you a sticker, but you should try asking anyway. Benefit: You will not get the flu, which means you will not miss three days of class and fall hopelessly behind and fail to get into medical/law/business school. Nor will you infect others, saving your friends and acquaintances from undue pain and suffering. It's a pretty good deal.
My general philosophy in life is, if there is a vaccine against a disease that I am likely to catch, I tend to go for it. So sorry, all you dead romantic writers, you won't find me to be a willing consumptive heroine. We've got antibiotics for that now.
