Germinating the Truth
Germs are hot. Lately, we've been hearing about them everywhere: from news stories about mumps supposedly spreading through two infected people onboard planes, to products that help keep the germs at bay: Airborne, Purel, Antibacterial soaps, disposable airplane seat covers and even portable air purifiers that fit onto the vent in the plane ceiling above you! Germaphobia seems to be the latest trend, but are the germs really that dangerous? Or is the fear of germs just a hype built up by the commercial marketers of new millennium products, geared at turning our fears into cold hard cash? These are the questions that were germinating in my own mind after a recent bout of flu and bronchitis shortly after flying. Did I find some answers? Read on to discover what I found out about our microscopic traveling companions.
Germs, like society, have classes. And in the travel world, it seems the dangerous germs come from one of the following three categories: 1.) Airborne-germs; 2) Fomites, or germs on contaminated surfaces; and 3) Germs, or bacteria, in food and water.
The first category, airborne germs, are probably of biggest concern on airplanes, where air is confined and recirculated—meaning the air inside the plane keeps getting swirled around. Most folks think this “recycled” air, therefore, is old and stale when flying, but it's not—well, not completely. Airplanes' recirculated air is always combined with fresh, outside air. It's also got reduced oxygen levels, ozone concentrations, hydraulic fuels, de-icing fluids, blah, blah, blah, not to mention your neighbor's perfume and b.o., all mixing together in-flight to balance out that “good air”. Prime for lung problems and disease, right?
Well, the research out there is conflicting. The CDC (Center for Disease Control and Prevention) says you are at risk only if sitting within two rows of an infected person, for at least eight hours. But that research doesn't take into account the three-hour Air China flight in 2003 in which 22 passengers came down with SARS from just one infected passenger, who was at least seven rows away from some later infected. And the recent “Mumps Outbreak” flights were nowhere near eight hours long. Many (but not all) planes have high-efficiency particulate (HEPA) filters that “trap” airborne viruses. Good news! And most airplane cabins change their air fifteen to twenty times an hour—more than typical office buildings, who only change their air twelve times an hour. I hear things like that, I think the air up there is even better than the air in my own house—although I don't have many smelly, virus-ridden friends entering my home, either…at least not very often.
So, are you going to die from the coughing baby seated behind you on the flight home for little Ronnie's Bar Mitzvah? Well, the research out there is not definitive, although the fella behind this study sure deserves a medal for mind-numbingly detailed research. I hope he got a nice Christmas bonus for his effort. I, frankly, couldn't get through it. But I did find one statistic elsewhere that says your chances of catching something from another infected passenger is about 1 in 1,000 -- about the same as an office building or any other confined space. In short, a big fat “maybe”, but, really, more of a “highly unlikely.”
Enough about planes. What about the dangerous viruses lurking on cruise ships that have also been in the news lately? Well, these are not airborne viruses, but what are called noroviruses, from the Norwalk virus family. (These highly scientific names are really of no practical use whatsoever to you, but I thought might lend a bit more oomph to this article if sprinkled in here.) These viruses are gastrointestinal in nature, like the flu, but, unlike the flu, originate in either food or liquid contaminated with the virus (i.e. the aforementioned “fomites”—yep, more scientific jargon to impress ya!). In tourist-speak, Montezuma's Revenge has a cruising cousin, and she's named Juanita's Diarrhea. All these cruise ship viral outbreaks you hear about are not from recirculated air being passed around close cabin quarters. They're more likely passed around because your drunken tablemate, Ted, had one too many frozen Mexican margaritas on shore, then took a crap in the restroom two minutes before you, and maybe didn't wash his hands before groping your wife after dinner—any of these things could spread the virus: consuming contaminated food, touching a contaminated surface (then putting your hands in your mouth or eyes), or having direct contact with an infected person.
These examples fall into germ classifications two and three: contaminated surfaces and contaminated food and water. (Contaminated jerks defy classification.) These sort-of bacteria don't just cause noroviruses; these days, they're also causing everything from hepatitis A to the deadly bird flu. The measures people are taking to avoid such bacteria include packing their own portable CSI-like UV light to look for the tiniest of stains on their blanket before accepting their hotel room for the night, all the way to avoiding entire regions of the world all together (i.e., bird flu capital Southeast Asia). Paranoia? Or traveling smart? What, really, are the best ways to deal with such deadly germs—if they're close to deadly at all?
The suggestions I found online for germ-warfare were comical: wear a surgical mask; coat the inside of your nostrils with oil to prevent dryness (viruses thrive in dry nostrils, apparently); ask to switch seats if stuck next to a sick person on a plane. I don't know about you, but I feel embarrassed enough wearing an inflatable neck-pillow on-board, let alone wearing a surgical mask and sticking my finger up my nose.
Cute guy next to me: “Uh, do you need a Kleenex?”
Me: “No, just putting a little jojoba on my mucous membranes. Prevents cracking. Here, want some?”
Cute guy next to me: “Uh, stewardess, may I please switch seats?”
Not exactly the best way to make a love connection…or any connection. As for switching seats, the way flights are so darn crowded these days, you're lucky to get any seat in your preferred aisle or window category these days, let alone get the option of having another prime seat to switch to once you're onboard. Frankly, I'll take a sniffling, wheezing person in the middle seat next to me versus being the person in the middle seat for four hours any day.
One cool suggestion I did discover to battle germs en-flight was to ask for oxygen. Apparently, planes are required to carry portable bottles of oxygen on board—about 30 of them per 747—and they are supposedly free of charge if you just ask for one. You may have to spend some time with an emergency paramedic once you land, so use the oxygen approach with caution. But, if it does happen to come with no strings attached, why not? People pay big money for that stuff at oxygen bars in Manhattan.
Ultimately, the best way to fight germs, I think, is the simplest—use your head, not your gadgets. Treat fomite-potential surfaces carefully: cover toilet seats in toilet paper or a toilet seat cover, if available…if you're lucky enough to get a toilet seat (many underdeveloped countries just have holes in the ground); if there's no seat, squat carefully. Don't use the airplane's tray table, if possible; it's the dirtiest part of an airplane, studies show. That means the airplane's pillow and blanket, as long as they're not wet and don't smell like puke, are probably OK, especially if you're not putting them right next to your mouth—if you're going to do that, just throw a sweater over the pillow as an extra filter. Using the airline's sleep accessories is much easier than lugging your own, I think.
To fight the airborne germs, taking Airborne before a flight hasn't always kept me from getting sick, but it hasn't hurt.; there's a good combination of vitamin supplements in those horse pills. Drinking lots of water helps a lot to flush germs out of your system--bottled water, not the water from faucets, especially on airplanes (that includes the coffee or tea onboard) or in “third world” countries. In fact, don't even wash your hands or brush your teeth in the faucet water of third world countries. Or eat anything there that comes from the ground and doesn't peel—that means no lettuce or tomato on your burger in India. And definitely no ice (in Mexico, say, “seen yay-lo,” to order drinks without ice). Avoid food from street vendors in especially sketchy locales. And in Asia, avoid chicken completely or check http://www.pandemicflu.gov/ before you head anywhere abroad, to see if the bird flu has hit where you're heading yet.
Lastly, wash your hands. A lot. After you touch people and things. And before you touch your face at all. After you wash your hands, use Purel or another antibacterial lotion. It kills whatever soap and water doesn't. Use even after washing your hands on the airplane.
So, forget the UV Light. Do you really have the luggage space for that? And do you really expect there to NOT be any stains in your hotel room? Maids are maids, they're not magicians! If you've read good reviews of the hotel beforehand, and the room looks and smells clean enough upon arrival, I'm sure you'll be fine. Leave the rest of your paranoia at home. The chances of catching a serious disease when traveling depends ultimately on luck and common sense. But if you lack either, and have a ton of money to burn in your pocket, by all means, load up on germaphobic prevention crap galore. And when you still end up with a ruined vacation from illness, make sure you packed the Imodium. Because the last thing you need is to pick up another virus from running to the toilet all the time.
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