I keep hearing about MRSA (Mersa), and it scares me to death.  Why? It’s not because I’m unhinged  (regardless of what my mother said), it’s just that I’m very concerned about Staphylococcus aureus.  I used to be frightened of Yersinia pestis because I didn’t want to get the plague.  (Hey, don’t put that down as preposterous – if that bacteria  could destroy civilizations, it could probably get me, too.)  But now I’ve been concentrating on MRSA, because pus and pustules are unnerving and can harm my bodily fluids. Yeah, guilty, you found me out:  I don’t like anything with pus in it.

     So, here’s the thing:  When people see me going for my alcohol sanitizer and whispering “What an idiot” – it doesn’t phase me.  In a few seconds my hands are free of, not just Staph aureus, but some other no goodniks, too, including Salmonella, strep and Pseudomonas.  However, I’m still wondering if the guy serving the ping pong ball to me has washed his hands within the last few months.  Look, that guy (or gal) could be colonized with MRSA.  He could be colonizing the ball.  Eventually, I may have to touch that ball.  I don’t know about you, but before I serve, I’m giving that Nittaku 3 star ball  a bath in undiluted Clorox. 

    Really, I just can’t take the idea that no one besides me is wary of the MRSA threat.  Just beware that in this  festive season, that people might attempt to hug and caress you and wish you godspeed and all that, but that they may be spreading the dreaded MRSA.  For your sake and mine, don’t shake hands with anybody. Ever! Ask all those that claim to love you to prove that their vaccinations are up to date.  And make them wash their hands and put on a mask and gloves before they come close to offering Seasons Greetings.     Lao Du