I’m not really a germaphobe. I tend to think, “Meh, that’s what my immune system is for.” Until I get sick, and wonder about the trail of germs that led me here. It’s like that movie Contagion. (It used to be like that movie Outbreak, but I try to stay current.)
I had an itsy bitsy cold in St. Petersburg. Then I felt better for a few days, but started to feel sick again in Moscow. Just a sore throat and the sniffles. After being home for a couple of days, the cough started, escalated, didn’t get better, sucked pretty bad, and is now very slowly getting better.
Where did I get sick? Did the cough come from the same virus I had in Russia, or was that something new I caught on the plane? When someone local says, “Oh, yeah, that’s going around,” can they possibly be talking about the same thing I have, since I wasn’t even in this country when I first got sick?
You know where I think I got it? Amsterdam.
On our layover between Florence and St. Petersburg, we visited the airport spa for the Stress & Tension Eliminator. Seemed like a good idea at the time. A head, facial, neck and shoulder massage, right? I wasn’t too impressed with my masseuse lady, though. Didn’t feel like there was too much expertise behind her touching my face.
A few hours later, I had a sore throat.
Let’s think about this for a second. Having my face touched by a stranger in the airport. Who touches all kinds of other strange faces all day. The faces of people who think they need a massage to relieve sinus pressure. Why might they do that? Perhaps because they are sick??
Consider me now completely grossed out by the idea of having a facial massage at the airport. (Or anywhere, actually.) In fact, next time you see me on a plane, I’ll be the one disinfecting my armrest and tray table with an antibacterial handi-wipe.