In a development that has sent shivers down the collective spine of the international community, Australia has confirmed its first human case of the H5N1 bird flu. A child who had just returned from a trip to India was found to be infected, though authorities are quick to stress that there is no evidence of sustained human-to-human transmission. Meanwhile, the United Kingdom is watching the situation with the sort of nervous intensity usually reserved for penalty shootouts.
The bug, which has been making the rounds in avian circles for some time, has now claimed a victim Down Under, prompting health officials to dust off their pandemic preparedness plans and mutter darkly about the coming of the True Flu. The child, mercifully, is recovering, but the mere suggestion that a new plague might be on the horizon is enough to send the stock market into a tizzy and cause a run on hand sanitiser. The UK's Health Security Agency has issued a statement that reads like a pamphlet on how to prepare for the end of the world, but with more paragraphs about washing your hands.
Biff Thistlethwaite, who has been known to contract everything from clap to ennui, sees this as yet another example of the cosmic joke that is modern existence. The last time a bird sneezed in our direction, we locked down, hoarded loo roll, and discovered our neighbours were hiding sourdough starters and fascist tendencies. This time, perhaps we can do better.
Or perhaps we will just sit in our gardens, watch the birds peck at the grass, and wonder if their cough sounds a bit suspicious.
