One serving of smallpox, please

Scene: Cuddling on my couch, late of an evening last week. WR is ill, but is still looking quite attractive to me. Am trying to weigh the risks, which seem less the later it gets.

Me: So . . . you would be contagious then.

WR: Yeah, but I asked my doctor how long I'd been contagious and he says it would have been for 3 days before I started showing symptoms.

Me: You actually asked your doctor?

WR: Oh yeah. So you probably already have it.

Me: I bet I don't. I don't feel sick.

WR: Well, if that's true, and if you don't become ill, then that means that you gave it to me.

Me: Excuse me? How do you figure that?

WR: Because . . . that means that it's some American disease.

Me: But I'm not sick! How could I possibly have given it to you?

WR: People can carry viruses and be immune to them. You're probably a carrier.

Me: I'm not a carrier!

WR: You could be. Why else wouldn't you be sick already?

Me: What, like I'm the settlers of Jamestown and you're the helpless Native Americans about to be wiped out by smallpox?

WR: Basically, yes. I didn't stand a chance.

Me: Well, tempting as it is, getting a viral infection of the upper respiratory tract wouldn't actually be fun.

[pause]

Me: Okay, getting it could be fun, but having it, not so much.

WR: It's just the upper tract, though. It's not, like, the whole thing.

Me: Ah. Good point.

End Scene

(Editor's Addendum: Some extensive field work has proven that I am, for all intents and purposes, quite immune to this disease. Take that, England!)

Posted in: England