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It was winter 2009. My husband and son set off to work and school in fine fettle and returned with identical hacking coughs and raging temperatures. Working from home often has its advantages but it was a mixed blessing finding myself juggling a deadline and caring for two likely swine flu cases.

With my son too young and too unwell to stop spluttering and spraying virus all over me, I was desperately trying to recall any infection control tips I’d picked up as a nursing journalist over the years. Somehow I stayed well – I will never know whether my vigilant hand washing and covering of my face worked or whether somewhere along the line I’d acquired some immunity to H1N1.

But it was around then that I decided getting my annual flu shot might be a good idea – an imperfect protection against the ever-changing flu virus but something I could do to reduce the risk to me and, more particularly, some friends with vulnerable health.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the flu this edition, but what will probably stay with me longest is gratitude (and possibly a little guilt) that, if and when either I or my family are ever unwell again, we aren’t living in a house so cold, damp and mouldy that it is likely to make us even sicker. Read on p.4 about nurses who work with families who aren’t so lucky.

Fiona Cassie
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