WE CAN PUT A MAN ON THE MOON…

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

…but we can’t find a cure for the common cold? How long have we been saying that? Probably since July 20,1969, when the Lunar Module Eagle first touched down on the Sea of Tranquility. After that monumental achievement every other goal seemed like it should be easily solved. Thus, the phrase, “we can put a man on the moon, but we can’t (fill in the blank)” began to be used for every frustrating problem we seemed incapable of conquering. You don’t hear that phrase so much anymore, most likely because we’ve conquered many of those problems. Or maybe we feel confident, or scared, that AI will soon do it for us. But this past week I harkened back to the “common cold” lament because, like so many others, I was brought down by the latest virus going around.

I haven’t felt like doing much and felt sick as a dog. Ironically, I was also dealing with a sick dog, which required me to dress up in something akin to a hazmat suit and take him to the vet. All the while, I wondered that with all the medical miracles that seem to happen on a daily basis, I’m laid low by the same malady that has plagued humankind for hundreds of years. I think there must be a lot of people down with the cold virus right now because last week The Washington Post published an article pondering the same question. Turns out, I guess not surprisingly, that finding a cure is just not that simple. There are more than 200 different viruses that can lead to cold symptoms, with rhinoviruses being the most common. That diversity makes it hard to develop a single vaccine or treatment that would effectively cover all strains.

According to the Post, last week the Yale School of Medicine published the results of a study in the journal Cell Press Blue (you subscribe, right?) about their research into the common cold. They cultivated miniature models of nasal airways to try to understand how upper respiratory viruses unfold, why they can be so variable, and how to make them less miserable. I’m all for that! The details of the study are a little gross, so I’ll forego that in case you’re eating breakfast. The upshot is that after examining thousands of individual cells, the researchers found that it’s not the virus, but the intricacies of the response in thousands of nasal airway cells, that determines whether a cold is quickly quelled or explodes into something more serious. The study showed that the quick production of a protein called interferon by the infected cells kept the rhinovirus in check, allowing it to infect fewer than 2 percent of the cells. When they suppressed interferon, about a third of cells became infected and the rhinovirus proliferated. A different immune sensor kicked in, and molecules related to inflammation increased, mucus production went into overdrive, and the nasal cilia slowed their pulsing. There’s a lot more technical stuff, but that’s the basic gist.

They concluded that there’s a reason that the cold is such a challenge to solve: disentangling immune responses to know which ones are beneficial, which ones help control an infection, and which ones contribute to severity of symptoms, is not straightforward. The lead researcher commented that if the common cold was an easy problem to solve, it would have been solved a long time ago. No kidding. Generations of people have been waiting. Maybe AI will finally be the key to the finding an answer. Clearly, it’s beyond the ken of we mere mortals. As skeptical as I am of AI, I will gladly hail its presence if it can keep me out of the Cold and Cough aisle at Walgreens. In the meantime, I’m going to fix more tea and get drunk on Nyquil.

LOST IN SPACE?

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Several days ago, I caught the virus that has been circulating for months. I had dodged the dreaded “flu” since last fall and was convinced that my immune system was ironclad. Apparently, I was wrong. For the first few days I chalked it up to allergies – after all, I just had allergy testing that showed I am allergic to pretty much everything that is in bloom right now. But when my throat began to look like raw hamburger and my chest felt as if an elephant had taken up residence, I knew it was more serious. I know the drill – lots of fluids and rest. The fluids’ part was easy but trying resting with a four-month-old puppy. Both Dooley and I reached the limits of our patience in the last week. I’m sure he was wishing he had been adopted by a hardy twenty-something.

Nevertheless, because I needed my energy during the day, my goal was to get as much sleep at night as possible. I looked in the medicine cabinet and saw I still had some NyQuil, but probably not enough to last more than a day or two. So last Monday I did what one does when you’re sick and live alone…I ordered cough medicine from Amazon, with same-day delivery before 4 pm. I tracked the delivery mid-afternoon and saw that the delivery person was in the neighborhood across the road. The app indicated I was blessedly just five stops away. I waited for the package…and waited…and waited. When I checked the app again it said, “We have lost communication with our delivery person but don’t worry, your package is still on the way.” Okay, cell service can be sketchy in my area, so I didn’t think anything of it. But by 6 pm, when there was still no package, and the same message appeared, I began to suspect that my Mucinex was not coming. Thankfully, I dug around in my medicine cabinet and found an unopened box of NyQuil that miraculously was not out of date. By 9 pm the app indicated that something had gone wrong and I could cancel the order if I wished. How about you deliver the package, Amazon???

By Tuesday afternoon there was still not a whisper from Amazon as to where my package was or whether they were sending a replacement. So now, I don’t feel well and frankly, I am not pleasant when I’m sick, so I go on the Amazon app and ask them to call me. Five minutes later a customer service rep calls me, and I relayed my problem. I can barely speak and coughed like a seal in her ear, so she could tell I was someone who definitely needed medicine. Although she might have thought Xanax was a better choice after listening to my rant. In any event, she tells me she is on the case…and then puts me on hold. She came back after about ten minutes and said that the package had been lost in transit. LOST??? It was across the road and five stops away!!!! Was the driver highjacked? Did an Amazon Blue Origin Spaceship come down and spirit it away?

She calmly explained to me that she was only a front office person and really couldn’t tell me exactly how my package was lost. She placed another order for me and told me she would schedule it for overnight delivery. I asked that she not do that, as I can’t begin to count the landscape lights that have been victim to Amazon drivers trying to navigate out of my twisty driveway. “No problem,” she said, “I’ll schedule it for tomorrow mid-day.” Of course, I woke up Wednesday morning at 5:30 to find the package at my front door.

Maybe Bezos should spend a little less money sending celebrities into space and a bit more in delivery efficiency. As you can tell, I’m still crabby.