Qualms for the Poor

My brother refuses to go to the doctor unless absolutely necessary.
Already covered with sores and boils, he will not seek medical attention.
"No, I'm not going to no doctors.
As soon as you go to see the doctor there's something wrong with you."
He really believes this.
Namely, that if you visit the doctor, you are willingly inviting illness.
Ignorance is not only bliss, but is also quite important to your well-being.
This is his stance.
And maybe he's right.

SARS isn't back.
Luckily for two hundred people out of however many billion we're at, SARS is still out of style.
The Space Hog of diseases, SARS came and went before its time.
Now, sometimes it'll be remembered when everyone is intoxicated to the point of nostalgia at an off-campus party.
"Remember SARS?"
"Fuck yeah, I had their album!"
We are all, presumably, safe.
Except for one man in the UK, within whom a whole new flash-in-the-pan virus has been found.
Our inability to be empathetic really comes in handy at a time like this.
"Poor guy," you utter around your McMuffin.
Probably.
He's probably a poor guy.
Depends on how keen this virus happens to be.
In Newfoundland, if someone is referred to as 'poor', it doesn't mean they're broke.
It means they're dead.
"I'll tell you who else drove a Skylark: poor Gus...whoever."
Gus' surname doesn't matter.
Gus is dead
(there is no Gus).
These are the sorts of conversations my parents have, by the way.
Those looking forward to the pinnacle of their marriages, this is what it sounds like.
Of course, it could be worse.
You too could be poor.
Like this poor bastard in the UK.
It's one thing to have a bad day.
Having a newsworthy disease discovered on your person is a different bird entirely.
Maybe it's a bird flu.
Anyway. The point is, get your shots.
You can read the details here.
The BBC's advice on avoiding this disease is to go about your day as you were.