Hopefully, this'll be my last update here - just so y'all know, I finished my Cipro run this week.
I'm already feeling less groggy, able to get more rest from sleep, less sensitive to sunlight. Bowel movements back to normal, and I'm taking Reuterii when I think of it, just to repopulate the bacteria breaking down the food for me.
Couldn't be happier.
If y'all caught the New York Times article earlier this week - the paper version, not the online one - you've seen the maps of the building I worked in with little dots where all the anthrax spores were found. Including one right next to my desk. (In the graphic, the rear, left corner, one aisle up from Bob's workspace.)
It's still a matter of some debate whether we'll go back there, and who will pay for the full cleanup (and how). Apparently, the feds made a few obvious goofs in their final report so we're not trusting our lives to any not-so-obvious goofs they may have made.
However, one fact is very clear from the EPA maps: the letter/letters in which anthrax arrived didn't get opened at the Sun. The mailroom is a blanket of spores, which gets less and less concentrated the further from the mailroom you get. Seems clear the crap just drifted up or was tracked around the building, and not delivered directly to our paper.
Ernie, the mail room worker who got sick, showed up during lunch two days ago. Everyone in the diner started clapping and cheering for at least a minute - pretty remarkable, considering most folks there were hard-bitten scandal-hound types. Ernie, in his 70s, looks better now than he did before he got sick. He made a point of shaking hands with every person there, and going from office to office saying hi to everyone. He's apparently going to be back to work on Monday. He is made of iron and gentle modesty. |
