Mexico City recovering from flu – and fear
Posted: Sunday, May 03, 2009 3:47 PM
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On Assignment
By Michelle Kosinski, NBC News Correspondent
MEXICO CITY – Above a quiet, languid Mexico City, there is a hint of blue in the center of the sky. The usual haze, that obscures the view of the mountains and the sun-bleached homes that crawl up into them, is remarkably light. From a tall building these past two days, the view is stunningly clear. These are small gifts, for citizens still living through an international scare – and a national shutdown.
With little to do today around the normally electrified capital, a person can marvel at the prospect of a stroll down silent lanes, hearing single bird chirps, breathing in the clearer air – or a drive without a traffic jam. It is both refreshing and eerie – a good time for the mind to wander – and then you remember that the cause of this otherworldy calm is quite alarming. Or at least, it was.
Though the surgical masks are still everywhere – some light blue, some white, some doubled-up with straps going everywhere, and others with happy smiles drawn on in marker to beat the grim seriousness of it all – that sense of uncertain worry that has hung over Mexico City is finally dissipating along with the smog.
Signs of hope
As you venture out beyond the center of this sprawling city, you see some stores open, too, people selling food on the street, and more citizens braving small crowds. There are more smiles and conversations. On buses, you even see people without their masks.
Last night, I was shocked to see some bored-out-of-their-minds staff in our hotel (which, with its 26 floors, now contains less than a dozen guests) pretending to cough on one another as a joke, laughing. That, I thought, while perhaps in poor taste to some, was a sure sign that they were certainly not worried – at least, not with one another.
At the same time, workers are disinfecting the subway system in preparation for things potentially going back to "normal" on Tuesday.
We sat down with Health Secretary Jose Angel Cordova, and he wanted to convey confidence. It is too early to say the threat has passed – and remember, there are still new cases of flu developing here – but "contained" is the word they are going with, to package the fact that the numbers of both deaths and suspected cases of swine flu are dropping.
'The outbreak is controlled'
"This is stabilizing," he told us. "The outbreak is controlled. I think so, because most of the measures we have done are having results, and we are making all the necessary efforts to give safety and health to our citizens. Many of the measures we put in place, like closing schools, are working well because really we have less cases now."
He also told us that more than three-quarters of the originally suspected cases of H1N1 flu turned out not to be that virus at all, but just the seasonal flu. He said even some of the deaths, at least seven or eight so far – tested negative. They were cases of pneumonia, yes, but not H1N1.
So, did this indeed originate from Mexico? Still unclear. And though many people who visited here from around the world became ill later, Cordova says since there were also very early cases confirmed in California, it is possible that it came from the border region, maybe even from the United States. Still, a difficult circumstance to pinpoint.
Interestingly, when we brought up the point that in the town of La Gloria, in Veracruz state, where about half the town had been complaining of severe flu as early as February, and where citizens told us that two babies died from flu, the secretary says there was no record of those deaths. Why? Unknown. Might those have been the earliest cases?
Cordova says even if there were, for some reason, undocumented deaths there, there was a good chance they were not H1N1. He told us that when they tested dozens of people in La Gloria later, only one person tested positive. All the others had only regular flu. And the person who did have H1N1, a little boy named Edgar Hernandez, developed it much later than the rest of the town was ill.
What we do know now is that Mexican officials say the number of new cases is diminishing rapidly.
Calm sets in
We took a drive out past the slow-motion neighborhoods to the National Institute of Respiratory Illnesses, where the most serious cases are being treated. We were granted unusual access inside. Security was extremely tight, as expected. But as we entered the landscaped grounds of the impressive old facility, our guides were relaxed. They were not wearing masks outdoors and seemed relieved to give us the news that it was a quiet day.
A day earlier, they saw only two new cases come in. Yesterday, only one.
Dr. Alejandra Ramirez, the chief doctor over the pneumonia ward, was tired, but had time to sit with us and tell us things were improving. Now, she says, people are coming in much sooner than they did when this all started. They are being treated immediately with antiviral drugs, and she says they improve quickly.
The biggest challenge? Helping the staff feel comfortable treating the patients. In the entire hospital system, she told us, approximately 15 healthcare workers had come down with the flu themselves. Now, though, she said, there was a sense of confidence that this thing was absolutely beatable if caught early. Everywhere we looked, floors were being scrubbed and hands being washed. Staffers were nearly covered from head to toe in protective gear. The place has a sense of simplicity and history, with its old marble floors and wooden IV stands, but now a fully modern sense of urgency and preparedness at this point. It smelled of antiseptic. We could not even stand in the hallway without having to slip on gowns and masks. And even then, they watched our movements closely.
The doctor told us that while the hospital was taken by surprise by this flu, it was now fully equipped to keep fighting it, if necessary. But quickly added the hope that this was, indeed, coming to a end, if not already over.
She had personally seen the horror of such young people – all between the ages of 21 and 40 – lose their intense battles with the invisible enemy that had invaded from nowhere.
A survivor's story
This is the main battle zone, and people are still in intensive care. But it was quieter today. To the staff here, that feels almost exciting.
And one man was going home.
Forty-year-old Gavrilencio Sanchez had fought pneumonia here for five days, his full lungs barely allowing him a breath. Briefly, he said, he was scared for his life, scared to be without his family. But almost immediately, he started to feel better with treatment. And now, he said he felt fine. Not even a cough. He stands steadily in the dim, cool hallway.
"Thank God," his wife told us at his side, smiling beneath her mask. Her hands were full of prescriptions provided by doctors. She had not been ill herself and was thrilled to be bringing him home.
A survivor. He had made it.
And after receiving several minutes worth of careful instructions from the doctor who oversaw his care, they walked out into the sunshine. Into a city that is recovering, from both illness – and fear.
