DEAR SEAN:
All my friends have the flu, I’m seeing
all this bad stuff online, and I’m worried
because of it. If my friends have the flu,
then that means I’m next. I got a flu
shot, but I keep hearing bad things, and
I’m really scared.
What should I do?
FOURTEEN-IN-BIRMINGHAM
DEAR FOURTEEN:
You’re not alone here. As much as I’d
like to claim to be Captain Fearless, I’ve
been washing my hands so often my
knuckles are hairless.
But, before we go any further, first,
we’re going to take a deep breath.
Ready. Go.
Now, hold it. Hold it. Hold it.
Let it go.
Feel that? That total-body feeling?
You know what that is? That’s us NOT
having the flu.
Okay. Now, let’s turn off TV’s,
computers, phones, and avoid internet
headlines in all caps like:
“THE WORST FLU IN THE HISTORY
OF MANKIND, CLICK HERE FOR
DETAILS.”
Let’s go talk to Granny instead.
Granny will put our minds at ease
by telling us that sickness like this is
nothing new in history.
Case and point: before the Civil War, a
worldwide bubonic plague broke out.
They called it “black death.” It made
today's flu look like a day in Aruba.
Then there was the influenza pandemic
of 1889. Nearly 1 million died. That was
no picnic.
And I’m just skimming the surface.
There’s a long list of adversities
our ancestors fought. Yellow fever,
smallpox, the Great Depression, World
War II, gasoline shortages, Windows 98,
and Barry Manilow.
Let’s start with the Depression. It
was the end of the world for many
people. Families without water, food,
toilet, living in tents, picking cotton for
pennies, dying from malnutrition.
Next, we’ll ask Granny about World War
II. 80 million died during those hellish
years. Let that number sink in.
Maybe Granny will tell us about boys
like, Luke Jameson, who fought in that
Great War.
He was a nice-looking boy. Six-foot-
two. He endured measles and a Great
Depression. Then, at age 16 he lied to
the Army recruiter and enlisted.
Different times.
They sent him to the war in Europe. He
was wounded in the spine. While being
carried by medics, a military vehicle ran
over him.
He crawled to safety—nearly every
bone in his body broken. He was in
rehab for years. Years, with a “Y.”
When he finally made it home, his
family was standing on the front lawn
to greet him. He was in uniform. He
walked with a limp. He was different,
they say.
In a good way.
I met him when he was an older man.
His room was peppered with photos of
bass fish, bird dogs, and buck hunts. He
was a jovial thing.
I asked how he managed to stay so
happy.
“Simple,” he said. “I’m not afraid of
anything.”
He went on to say that he had survived
two heart attacks, one wife, war,
famine, spinal surgeries, the measles.
You name it.
“Once you’re not afraid,” he said.
“Nothing can touch you.”
I’ll never forget those words.
So, Granny will probably tell us the
same things. Then, she’ll remind us to
keep the televisions off. She’ll tell us not
to fear flu, famine, or even death.
Because Granny knows that worry is a
sickness far more dangerous than flu.
And worse, there’s no vaccination for
worry.
So here’s a message from an old
veteran who’s no longer with us: “Don’t
be afraid of anything.”
And here’s one from me:
Wash your hands until your skin bleeds.
Sean Dietrich is a columnist and
novelist known for his commentary on
life in the American South. His work
has appeared in Southern Living, The
Tallahassee Democrat, Good Grit, South
Magazine, Yellowhammer News, the Bitter
Southerner, Thom Magazine, The Mobile
Press Register and he has authored
several books.