Don't worry, he won't cough on you. That is, if you give me your parking spot or your place in line at the coffee shop. Otherwise, the mask comes off and we shall unleash the fury of several days on the couch!

The power of having a child with H1N1 is simply intoxicating!

Actually, this was taken at the Swine Flu clinic set up to see - you guessed it - suspected cases. When Intrepid came down with flu-like symptoms, I did the responsible thing and called the doctor's office, who directed me to said clinic for plague sufferers. Pestilence Flutrepid and I made our way over and were seen quickly by friendly and efficient staff. I was impressed; a good thing, because otherwise I might have made the boy lick their pens when they weren't looking.

Intoxicating, I tell you. Simply intoxicating.

It hasn't hit the oldest gremlin that bad, really. I mean, he's done the standard things like get a fever and cough, puke a little, feel weak, and have a headache, but he's dealing with it fairly well. I'm hoping this is a sign of things to come. When I get bitch-slapped with it, I want it to be equally as mild. After all, I have a house to run and coffee to drink and television to watch. I don't have time to be really sick; it doesn't fit my schedule. I've explained this to my body and have requested that 'No Vacancy' signs be placed just inside my nostrils, mouth and eyes. I'm faily sure that will work.

I have to hand it to the media. They have the perfect storm on which to report. The story goes that there's a new and scary flu strain out there that's killing healthy people. But don't worry: there's a vaccine for it!

Except that the vaccine is newer than the flu strain itself and thus virtually untested. Therefore, it may or may not protect us against it and could lead to bad things like nerve damage, paralysis, autism, autoimmune disorders and sterilization. And maybe flatulence, since it's made with egg.

But wait! There's more! Drum roll, please: Even if you want the potentially scary vaccine for the potentially deadly virus, there's a shortage! Yes, that's right: There's so much of a shortage, in fact, that some flu shot clinics are closing their doors after only 20 or 30 minutes, giving bracelets or tickets to the first few hundred in line and turning everyone else away.

But don't despair, my paranoid plethora of people: some early birds have learned to prey on the fears of others, and will wait at the front of the line to get a bracelet so they can - wait for it - sell it to you! Yes, they will use the anxiety over protecting your loved ones against you and pocket as much money as you're willing to give them. What jerks! What incredibly innovative jerks!

This orgy of fear and misinformation is quite spectacular, if you step back and look at it for what it is. I've been reading and thinking and researching and talking to professionals for months now. Even when H1N1 wasn't big news, I would occasionally check reputable websites for updated statistics, mutations and antiviral-resistant strains. Why? Because I like information and I believe in science. Have I been afraid? Of course I have. Hysterically so?

Gutsy has a history of getting pneumonia from the common cold. We don't know why just yet, but we're investigating. It's safe to assume there's a good chance he could get pneumonia as a complication from any flu, including H1N1. There is a rare but still very real possibility he could die from pneumonia. Lovely thought, isn't it? This is why we get the flu vaccine in our house. This is also why we planned to get the piggy flu vaccine as well.

Do I know what flu vaccines are made of? Absolutely. Does it scare me? Not really, no. Is there a chance that could come back and haunt me someday? Yes, because there are always unknowns in any decision we make. But the possibility of long term complications pale in comparison to the protection vaccines offer against immediate health concerns. It makes sense to vaccinate, so we do.

But the crunchy, hippy people in burlap bags are screaming at me right now. I can hear them. They're saying "Maven! I thought you were one of us! I thought you were a breastfeeding, baby-wearing, co-sleeping, attachment parenting, mostly-vegetarian, earth-friendly mama! Hand back your crunchy card. You're nothing but mushy oatmeal! "

Don't get your hemp panties in a knot just yet, my friends. Here, let's sit down in this organic orchard and munch on apple and flax seed muffins for a bit. I will pry myself away from this tree I'm hugging so I can explain myself.

See, I'm an emotionally-driven kinda gal. It's in my nature to react first and ask questions later. When I first heard the word 'pandemic' I wanted to encase my family home in a giant (carbon-neutral, petroleum-free) bubble. I was terrified, and my mind displayed vivid memories of ebola footage and the movie 'Outbreak'.

How do I calm down my over-active imagination? Chocolate. And, moreso, with facts. Science. Pros and cons. Reliable, fact-based information from reliable, fact-based sources. Peer reviewed studies. All these things allow me to make the best possible decisions for my family with the best information available at the time. Everybody has an opinion, but opinions are often based at least partially on emotion. And believe me, I have enough of that to supply the emotional needs of half the planet. What I need are facts.

Facts encouraged me labour naturally for as long as possible. Facts guided me to wear my babies, keep them close, and encourage a strong bond. Facts helped make the decision to breastfeed a no-brainer. Facts made me decide not to circumcise my second and third boys, even though the first one had been (The first time I never really looked at the facts, I just went along with what I thought other people were doing - an emotional decision). Facts and science pushed me toward vegetarianism (Gluttony encouraged my newfound love of fish again. Oops.) If you were to question any of my decisions, I would have fistfuls of data to show you how I made them. Not that I'm not open for new information that would be contrary to what I know. Because, being so awesome, I'm pretty good at admitting if I've been wrong. I'll change my mind if new information becomes available that would counter what I previously believed.

I've tried looking at this H1N1 situation the same way. And here's what I've concluded: It sucks to get H1N1 and it can be dangerous, but not in the vast majority of cases. In Gutsy's case it's more dangerous than in an otherwise healthy person, so he should get vaccinated. Since I have asthma and lungs that hate me, I should also get the vaccine. And, since we live with three other people, they should also get the vaccine to help keep us safe. After all, vaccines work, in part, because of herd immunity.

The same science tells me that, even if Gutsy and I get H1N1, we're likely to make a full recovery. So, even if Intrepid ends up passing on the sucktitude to the rest of us, we should be fine. In some ways, I'm hoping we just all get it and don't have to worry about when and where and how we're going to get access to the increasingly unavailable shot. I'm not only gluttonous, but lazy to boot.

Therefore, there is no need to stone me with healing crystals or kick me out of the crunchy club. I don't care if you don't want to be vaccinated. I think it's a perfectly reasonable decision in most cases. I may snicker a bit if you try to tell me there's an evil big pharma conspiracy going on, but I'll chuckle quietly, I promise. The good news is that, when this nasty flu hits me before I get a chance to be vaccinated - and it will, despite all the oregano oil I'm taking - you can laugh at me and maybe wave some free-range poultry in my face until I puke. Talk about payback.

But if you do that, watch your pens. Flutrepid is still infectious for the next five days.