A couple of weeks ago when Seattle mayor Greg Nickels announced that the city definitely has a plan for dealing with the swine flu, I thought that if their “plan” for handling an outbreak is anything like their “plan” for dealing with the snow storms of last December, we should prepare for bodies in the streets.
Now that a man in a neighboring county has died of complications from the flu—the third in the nation and the only one not in Texas—the residents of King County should think back on the days of not being able to get out of their houses (unless they had snow tires or chains), the weeks when trash wasn’t picked up and the hours and hours they spent without power.
Then they should translate that to these municipal Keystone Kops managing an unpredictable virus that has stymied the World Health Organization’s best minds.
Public health authorities aren’t releasing any details of the death, but they are conceding that there doesn’t appear any direct connection between the man and México—that he appears to have contracted the illness from others in the area. He had underlying heart problems and died from viral pneumonia.
But then, that’s how flu works—it exploits underlying conditions, digs deep to overpower the immune system and then moves on to the next host, mutating as necessary to foil any obstacles to its ability to thrive.
Well—we hope for the best, but a government that thinks it’s fine to kind of tamp down the snow and sprinkle it with sand so four-wheeled drive vehicles or those with snow chains on can drive rather than ploughing and salting so everyone can, you know, get about (except for the streets where the mayor and senior county officials live, which were indeed cleared) doesn’t inspire me with confidence.
"a government that thinks it’s fine to kind of tamp down the snow & sprinkle it with sand so four-wheeled drive vehicles or those with snow chains on can drive rather than ploughing & salting so everyone can,"
ReplyDeleteWhile I agree with you on this, I must report that in the 1930s and 40s, at least, that is how the City of Pittsburgh and Allegheny County handled their frequent heavy snowfalls. We didn't have 4-wheel drive vehicles, and everyone knew how to put on chains (which frequently broke, so that you carried spare links to fix them). The advent of snow tires after the war was a godsend.