Hand sanitizer

[gggg...@gmail.com]

https://news.google.com/search?q=hand%20sanitizer&hl=en-US&gl=US&ceid=US%3Aen

[ItsJoan NotJoann]

On Monday, March 2, 2020 at 9:18:02 PM UTC-6, gggg...@gmail.com wrote:
>
> https://news.google.com/search?q=hand%20sanitizer&hl=en-US&gl=US&ceid=US%3Aen
>
Nothing beats plain old soap and water.

[rbowman]

https://www.cdc.gov/handwashing/show-me-the-science-hand-sanitizer.html

"CDC recommends washing hands with soap and water whenever possible
because handwashing reduces the amounts of all types of germs and
chemicals on hands. But if soap and water are not available, using a
hand sanitizer with at least 60% alcohol can help you avoid getting sick
and spreading germs to others."


https://www.canr.msu.edu/news/just_how_effective_is_hand_sanitizer

[Beaver...@live.com]

On Monday, March 2, 2020 at 7:18:02 PM UTC-8, gggg...@gmail.com wrote:
> https://news.google.com/search?q=hand%20sanitizer&hl=en-US&gl=US&ceid=US%3Aen

I have an unused 10 ounce bottle for sale, $50

[Conceited Jerk]

Sadly, a bargain compared to some of the other prices I've seen posted...

[The Real Bev]

Recipes all over helland gone about making your own out of aloe vera gel
and alcohol. I tried to find aloe vera gel in reasonable quantities for
a reasonable price, but no success. I did find ultrasound transmission
gel (also water based) from a number of sources for under $40/gallon.
Probably not possible to get alcohol any more, but still...

Any medical people here who can comment on the practicality of UTG? All
I get from the medical people I "know" is WASH YOUR HANDS. Yeah, but
what about when you can't?


--
Cheers, Bev
The people who don't know what they're doing and the people who
don't realize it are generally the same people." -- DAbel

[rbowman]

On 03/03/2020 10:09 PM, The Real Bev wrote:
> Probably not possible to get alcohol any more, but still...

Buy a bottle of Everclear...

[Conceited Jerk]

On Tue, 03 Mar 2020 21:09:29 -0800, The Real Bev wrote:

> Recipes all over helland gone about making your own out of aloe vera gel
> and alcohol. I tried to find aloe vera gel in reasonable quantities for
> a reasonable price, but no success. I did find ultrasound transmission
> gel (also water based) from a number of sources for under $40/gallon.
> Probably not possible to get alcohol any more, but still...

We lucked out (in a sense), my late mother-in-law was experiencing health
issues (immune system) last spring/summer and was going to come live with
us, so my wife bought a case of hand sanitizer from the medical supply
shop while we were outfitting our home. Still have some left.

> Any medical people here who can comment on the practicality of UTG? All
> I get from the medical people I "know" is WASH YOUR HANDS. Yeah, but
> what about when you can't?

On the radio this morning, a couple of medical professionals were telling
people to stop touching their face as well. Apparently the average
person touches their face 29 times per day.

I'm CJ, by the way. Long time lurker.

[gggg...@gmail.com]

So even though the news about the spread of the coronavirus is stressing me out, I probably should stop biting my nails?

[Conceited Jerk]

On Thu, 05 Mar 2020 10:58:04 -0800, ggggg9271 wrote:

> So even though the news about the spread of the coronavirus is stressing
> me out, I probably should stop biting my nails?

Nah, just make sure they're sanitized and you'll be fine. Waiting until
the sanitizer dries is left up to personal taste.

-CJ

[rbowman]

I don't remember which talking head it was but she was telling people to
not touch their faces. Then she licked her finger to turn the page of
her speech. AOC was doing the same spiel and stopped to scratch her nose
and brush her hair off her face.

Good luck for that directive from the eggheads.

[Beaver...@live.com]

I take public transportation every day and still going to lots of public events.

This is a hoax and a scam. It's a bad cold and the flu. Chill the fuck out already and stop cancelling shit.

[Bob F]

Enjoy it when you get it.

This young guy did not.

"What it's REALLY like to catch coronavirus: First British victim, 25,
describes how 'worst disease he ever had' left him sweating, shivering,
and struggling to breathe as his eyes burned and bones ached
•Connor Reed, 25, an expat teacher from North Wales, lives and works in
Wuhan
•In November, he became the first British man to catch the deadly
coronavirus
•Here he explains how he beat the illness that is sweeping across the globe

By Connor Reed For The Daily Mail

Published: 17:08 EST, 4 March 2020 | Updated: 14:07 EST, 5 March 2020

Connor Reed, a 25-year-old expat from Llandudno in North Wales, has
worked in a school in Wuhan, China, for almost a year. In November he
became the first British man to catch the coronavirus. From coughs and
aches to burning up and spending the night in hospital, here’s how he
beat the illness that is sweeping the globe.

Day 1 — Monday November 25: I have a cold. I’m sneezing and my eyes are
a bit bleary. It isn’t bad enough to keep me off work. I arrived in this
country to teach English as a foreign language — but now I’m a manager
at a school in Wuhan, the city in central China where I have lived for
the past seven months.

I speak Mandarin well, and the job is interesting. My cold shouldn’t be
very contagious, so I have no qualms about going to work. And I live
alone, so I’m not likely to give it to anyone. There hasn’t been
anything in the news here about viruses. I have no cause for concern.
It’s just a sniffle.

Connor Reed, a 25-year-old expat teacher from North Wales, was the first
British man to contract the killer virus in November last year, while
working at a school in Wuhan, China


Connor Reed, a 25-year-old expat teacher from North Wales, was the first
British man to contract the killer virus in November last year, while
working at a school in Wuhan, China

Day 2: I have a sore throat. Remembering what my mum used to do when I
was a child, I mix myself a mug of honey in hot water. It does the trick.


Day 3: I don’t smoke and I hardly ever drink. But it’s important to me
to get over this cold quickly, so that I can stay healthy for work. For
medicinal purposes only, I put a splash of whisky in my honey drink. I
think it’s called a ‘hot toddy’.

Day 4: I slept like a baby last night. Chinese whisky is evidently a
cure for all known ailments. I have another hot toddy in the evening.

Day 5: I’m over my cold. It really wasn’t anything.

Day 7: I spoke too soon. I feel dreadful. This is no longer just a cold.
I ache all over, my head is thumping, my eyes are burning, my throat is
constricted. The cold has travelled down to my chest and I have a
hacking cough.

This is flu, and it’s going to take more than a mug of hot honey, with
or without the magic whisky ingredient, to make me feel better.



Mr Reed said the symptoms of the disease 'hit me like a train' last year
after he contracted the coronavirus in Wuhan, China


Mr Reed said the symptoms of the disease 'hit me like a train' last year
after he contracted the coronavirus in Wuhan, China


The symptoms hit me this afternoon like a train and, unless there’s an
overnight miracle, I will not be going to work tomorrow. It’s not just
that I feel so ill — I really don’t want to give this flu to any of my
colleagues.

Day 8: I won’t be in work today. I’ve warned them I’ll probably be off
all week. Even my bones are aching. It’s hard to imagine I’m going to
get over this soon.

Even getting out of bed hurts. I am propped up on pillows, watching TV
and trying not to cough too much because it is painful.

Day 9: Even the kitten hanging around my apartment seems to be feeling
under the weather. It isn’t its usual lively self, and when I put down
food it doesn’t want to eat. I don’t blame it – I’ve lost my appetite too.

Day 10: I’m still running a temperature. I’ve finished the
quarter-bottle of whisky, and I don’t feel well enough to go out and get
any more. It doesn’t matter: I don’t think hot toddies were making much
difference.

Day 11: Suddenly, I’m feeling better, physically at least. The flu has
lifted. But the poor kitten has died. I don’t know whether it had what
I’ve got, or whether cats can even get human flu. I feel miserable.

Day 12: I’ve had a relapse. Just as I thought the flu was getting
better, it has come back with a vengeance. My breathing is laboured.
Just getting up and going to the bathroom leaves me panting and
exhausted. I’m sweating, burning up, dizzy and shivering. The television
is on but I can’t make sense of it. This is a nightmare.


Even the kitten hanging around my apartment (pictured) seems to be
feeling under the weather. It isn’t its usual lively self, and when I
put down food it doesn’t want to eat. I don’t blame it – I’ve lost my
appetite too

Even the kitten hanging around my apartment (pictured) seems to be
feeling under the weather. It isn’t its usual lively self, and when I
put down food it doesn’t want to eat. I don’t blame it – I’ve lost my
appetite too



By the afternoon, I feel like I am suffocating. I have never been this
ill in my life. I can’t take more than sips of air and, when I breathe
out, my lungs sound like a paper bag being crumpled up. This isn’t
right. I need to see a doctor. But if I call the emergency services,
I’ll have to pay for the ambulance call-out myself. That’s going to cost
a fortune. I’m ill, but I don’t think I’m dying — am I?


Surely I can survive a taxi journey. I decide to go to Zhongnan
University Hospital because there are plenty of foreign doctors there,
studying. It isn’t rational but, in my feverish state, I want to see a
British doctor. My Mandarin is pretty good, so I have no language
problem when I call the taxi. It’s a 20-minute ride. As soon as I get
there, a doctor diagnoses pneumonia. So that’s why my lungs are making
that noise. I am sent for a battery of tests lasting six hours.

Day 13: I arrived back at my apartment late yesterday evening. The
doctor prescribed antibiotics for the pneumonia but I’m reluctant to
take them — I’m worried that my body will become resistant to the drugs
and, if I ever get really ill and need them, they won’t work. I prefer
to beat this with traditional remedies if I can.

It helps, simply knowing that this is pneumonia. I’m only 25 and
generally healthy: I tell myself there’s no reason for alarm. I have
some Tiger Balm. It’s like Vick’s vapour rub on steroids. I pour some
into a bowl of hot water and sit with a towel over my head, inhaling the
fumes. I’m going ‘old school’. And I’ve still got the antibiotics in
reserve if I need them.



Pictured: Connor and the cat that hangs around his apartment in Wuhan,
China. Suddenly, I’m feeling better, physically at least. The flu has
lifted. But the poor kitten has died. I don’t know whether it had what
I’ve got, or whether cats can even get human flu. I feel miserable


Pictured: Connor and the cat that hangs around his apartment in Wuhan,
China. Suddenly, I’m feeling better, physically at least. The flu has
lifted. But the poor kitten has died. I don’t know whether it had what
I’ve got, or whether cats can even get human flu. I feel miserable

Day 14: Boil a kettle. Add Tiger Balm. Towel over head. Breathe for an
hour. Repeat.

Day 15: All the days are now blurring into one.

Day 16: I phone my mother in Australia. There was no point in calling
her before now — she’d only worry and try to jump on a plane. That
wouldn’t work: it takes an age to get a visitor’s visa to China. I’m
glad to hear her voice, even if I can’t do much more than croak, ‘Mum, I
feel so ill.’

Day 17: I am feeling slightly better, but I don’t want to get my hopes
up yet. I’ve been here before.

Day 18: My lungs no longer sound like bundles of broken twigs.

Day 19: I am well enough to stagger out of doors to get more Tiger Balm.
My nose has cleared enough to smell what my neighbours are cooking, and
I think I might have an appetite for the first time in nearly two weeks.

Day 22: I was hoping to be back at work today but no such luck. The
pneumonia has gone — but now I ache as if I’ve been run over by a
steamroller. My sinuses are agony, and my eardrums feel ready to pop. I
know I shouldn’t but I’m massaging my inner ear with cotton buds, trying
to take the pain away.

Day 24: Hallelujah! I think I’m better. Who knew flu could be as
horrible as that, though?

Day 36: A tip-off from a friend sends me hurrying to the shops.
Apparently, the Chinese officials are concerned about a new virus that
is taking hold in the city. There are rumours about a curfew or travel
restrictions. I know what this will mean — panic buying in the shops. I
need to stock up on essentials before everyone else does.

Day 37: The rumours were right. Everyone is being told to stay indoors.
From what I’ve heard, the virus is like a nasty dose of flu that can
cause pneumonia. Well, that sounds familiar.

Day 52: A notification from the hospital informs me that I was infected
with the Wuhan coronavirus. I suppose I should be pleased that I can’t
catch it again — I’m immune now.

However, I must still wear my face mask like everyone else if I leave
the apartment, or risk arrest. The Chinese authorities are being very
thorough about trying to contain the virus.

Day 67: The whole world has now heard about coronavirus. I’ve told a few
friends about it, via Facebook, and somehow the news got out to the media.

My local paper back in Llandudno, North Wales, has been in touch with
me. Maybe I caught the coronavirus at the fish market.

It’s a great place to get food on a budget, a part of the real Wuhan
that ordinary Chinese people use every day, and I regularly do my
shopping there.

Since the outbreak became international news, I’ve seen hysterical
reports (especially in the U.S. media) that exotic meats such as bat and
even koala are on sale at the fish market. I’ve never seen that.

The only slightly weird sight I’ve seen is the whole pig and lamb
carcasses for sale, with their heads on.

Day 72 — Tuesday, February 4: It seems the newspapers think it’s
terrific that I tried to cure myself with hot toddies.

I attempt to explain that I had no idea at the time what was wrong with
me — but that isn’t what they want to hear.

The headline in the New York Post says, ‘UK teacher claims he beat
coronavirus with hot whisky and honey.’

I wish it had been that easy.

"