Total Panic in Level Four

One of my favorite authors is Richard Preston. My senior year of college I had to take a science class and I opted for Medical Geography. Its exotic title fit in well with some of my other college courses like floral arranging (1 and 2), pistol and rifle marksmanship, Alfred Hitchcock films, and Italian Cuisine. Before you judge or accuse me from graduating from Bob's Clown College, I happened to take enough AP classes in high school that I needed hours, not the actual credits. Medical Geography happened to be one of my most favorite class of all. The way we learned about how people working in this field track viruses to their original source...it left me dumbfounded. There I was, mere months before graduation wondering if I should drop my journalism major and become a virus hunter in Africa. Spending my summers in khaki shorts and rugged work boots with my hair in a knotty bun, winters in level four biohazard space suit probing the next likely source of Ebola. We read The Hot Zone and I was pretty much sure I was graduating into the wrong career field. I was born to work at the CDC. Right? I purchased every biology-related book Preston's written and I've pored over them multiple times. When I found out that he had a new book coming out I couldn't wait to buy it and my recent plane ride seemed the perfect occasion to indulge my inner unfulfilled virus hunter.

Well, I guess I can say now that I'm glad I didn't up and quit on journalism. Not that I'm using my major so much now -- however, I did find it necessary to point out a coworker's faux pas as he once again mispronounced nuclear as "nuc-u-lar" -- but I found out this past weekend that I made the right choice. Not only is Richard Preston an amazing writer, particularly amazing when he writes about biological terrorism (my not-so-secret guilty pleasure), but he is also quite graphic. While reading the much-anticipated "Panic in Level Four" (a collection of short non-fiction stories, seriously, it's amazing), I realized I'm firmly where I need to be...behind a computer monitor dilly-dallying about with bezier curves and clipping paths.

The last story is about a disease which causes its victims to self-cannibalize. At first my inner nerd said, "Stacy, this is a chance to learn about a strange new subject, keep going, and read with an open mind." All the while my inner girl voice is saying, "Stacy, proceed with caution, this will get gross." And I was right. Sooo right. I read. I read some more. I was fine. UNTIL--I read a line that said something to the effect of sometimes this disease causes its victims to remove their own eyeball--and I don't know what it said after that, because I gagged. Firmly shut the book. Put the book in my carry-on bag. And haven't touched it since. Honestly, I'm a little scared to put it on my shelf where it might infect a neighboring Augusten Burroughs book with it's awful eyeball horror.

Sorry, CDC. I totally feel like I let you down.