Dear America: A Creepy Love Letter From Ebola, Itself

ebola virus

This satirical letter is frightening to read, but is also very important.

Dear America,

I am Ebola. I'd like to introduce myself.

I am an ancient virus. I have lived a million life times. I was birthed in the primordial ooze of a forming living planet. I laid in the soil and waited for a root to take me up into a fruit. I laid in the belly of the winged creatures that feasted on the fruit - still not a perfect host, just a resting place.

When I was younger, I waited in the the excrement of the creature, in caves which gave cover to humans during storms, but this proved inefficient, so I mutated and slept in the blood of the creature itself, confident that it would find another host for me, all the while waiting - waiting for perfection.

And I was not disappointed.

My vessel, the Chiroptera, a bat, often found the tender skin of swine a pleasant diversion, and so did I. My perfect host was only one step away.

And it is You.

I exist only to replicate. I have no other desire.

I am mighty and swift, hoping that in your attempts to attend to my victims, and in the hysteria that will surely be the result of the gruesomeness of my presence in your bodies, you will be careless.

And you have been.

And I LOVE America - aside from hitching a ride on a man who knew he had been exposed, I didn't wait too long to really get going, and you accommodated … when this human began to have bloody stool, you sent him away with an antibiotic.


By the time I was fully vested in his body, he was quarantined, but in a hospital that was simply not prepared for my dedication to my life's work.

In fact, two of the women who ministered to his needs, have become my next generation, and you allowed one of them to get on an airplane.

I can not say 'Thank You' with enough humility.

Please don't have your health care providers fully trained in infectious disease control, or provide them with proper gear. Your communities don't really need to dispose of contact material in any more then a paper bag in the local dump—or a garden hose.

Please don't ask people where they have travelled from—always believe them.

Please don't require the people who have cared for my host tell you where they live, or to not get on mass transportation. I thought allowing Nurse#2 to return from Cleveland even though she was already feeling ME was brilliant. Keep that up.

Please continue to disseminate the 'We've got this under control' attitude. So Wild West of you. I'm hoping to get out there, actually.

Maybe a train?

In closing, I would just like to say I appreciate your generous welcome, and I really enjoyed Dallas.

Go Cowboys.

This article was originally published at A Pleasant House. Reprinted with permission from the author.


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