Quarantined

I had planned to get on a flight to Cleveland, Ohio, this afternoon at 2 p.m. to throw a big bridal bash for our beloved Aunt Cindy.
Instead, I'm fretting for the safety of my unborn baby as I sit in quarentine for the next two weeks in my own home under doctor's orders.
Let me be clear: I do not knowingly have swine flu. Nor are my kids, husband or parents ill, so far as I know.
Furthermore, it is my understanding that swine flu--when caught early--can be headed off with powerful medications. Even pregnant women like myself who are in the fifth month of gestation can take an antiviral prescription to ward off sickness.
That said, three separate doctors told me today to stay off airplanes; one told me there is a chance that this robust virus, if contracted, could adversley impact my unborn fetus creating lifelong problems for my child. He added it would be a good idea to pull my kids out of the public mix including their preschool so that I would not contract swine flu from them.
This doctor said he is conservative. That I should make my own decisions.
I told him I appreciated his candor and hung up the phone.
Two hours later, I was still shaking.
I have now regained some of my composure, but I can't help but think of the preschool open house we attended last night...or the ballet class I trucked my daughter to earlier in the week...or of the man who made my lunch on Wednesday at a local deli.
I am trying to do what I can to "REMAIN CALM" as the governor of Texas has told us.
I am doing what I can to prevent contamination, to make myself feel in control.
My husband came home tonight to a self-styled hazmat zone. He's to change his suit in the garage and stash it in his car before running to our guest bathroom and showering before greeting anyone else. He underclothes go into bleach.
This ruthless virus, the doctor told me, strikes those with apparently healthy immune systems--especially between the ages of 25 and 45--then attacks the lungs.
We can take no chances: Another generation is at hand.