Ebola has come to Cleveland. Well, not technically, but it might as well have. A nurse from Texas spent a few days in northeast Ohio and then flew back out of the Cleveland airport with a mild fever that progressed into a higher fever by the following day and then she tested positive when back in Texas.
The entire city is in complete panic mode. Schools have shut down on account of a teacher who may have flown in the same plane, although not the same flight. Stores, banks, and churches have all closed their doors. The media can talk of nothing else.
The hospitals are on high alert, with CDC meetings and email alerts and protocols and distribution of PPE (personal protective equipment). Despite this, hospital business continued as usual. I entered the hospital and met with my scheduled patients, children with a reputation for being carrying germs. I did my job.
Internally, my mind was on my own health. I had just come from my 36-week appointment and again the concern was raised with my swollen ankles, moderately high blood pressure, and now small amounts of protein in my urine. This all adds up to returning concerns of preeclampsia, although no symptom was high enough for drastic measures and instead we're back to increased monitoring.
Ironically, the panic of the city over a significant threat that I have minimal control over has helped me to remain calm of my more realistic personal threat. They are both largely out of my control. I am doing everything in my power to minimize my risks, but short of putting myself in isolation and/or bed-rest, I need to carry on. I follow the recommendations of the experts and then I continue to live my life. Panicking never did anyone any good.