The Tribune

THERE must be a million medical tests out there. You can check your blood type, heart rate, hearing loss, even your vestibular, whatever that is.

Apparently, if it is important to you, there is a way to check your arterial blood bas, though not sure what comfort or lack thereof that would bring.

You can be tested for allergies and whether or not your ovaries or hormones are sufficient to produce and bring a new human into the world and you could probably even find a test to see if you are responsible enough to raise them with ethics and educate them, though chances are if you are submitting to that kind of testing rigor you already know the answer.

There’s even a test making its way on TikTok now that helps you choose the right partner for life based on the scientific or otherwise evidence of the days of the moon’s cycle when each of you was born.

For all those already married couples or otherwise committed folks, especially those who have been together for decades, not sure what to suggest if the test says you’re not a match. It’s hard to undo children.

But what must be one of the most common needs for testing has been totally overlooked or ignored by all the geniuses who put together these extremely scientific and important ways to examine what is going on under the skin or, if itches, what’s going on there.

That’s the test for whether or not you are still contagious.

Every time we catch a cold or come down with the flu, we know when we are sick. We feel it almost instantly in one of those uh-oh moments, I thought-I-had-escaped-it-but-guess-not moments.

The sniffles, stuffiness, aches and pains in the joints, a slight fever. You may take your temperature but you don’t need a test to say you caught something. What you need is a box of soft tissue for the coming days and maybe a little homemade chicken soup or souse.

But how do you know when you are better you can no longer put anyone at risk? How do you know when it is safe for you to hug your grandchild or return to work without infecting anyone?

With all those hundreds or thousands of tests out there, there isn’t one simple one that says ‘Good to go. Contagious, negative or positive.’

Where is the test that says safe to travel without compromising someone else’s health, safe to engage in team sports or activities, safe to meet in person instead of on zoom?

We did it with Covid-19 so why can’t we do it with other viruses that cause cold or flu-like symptoms?

To find out, I called my favourite doctor, Arlington Lightbourne (Bahamas Wellness Health System) who explained why, but also provided a sensible solution.

Viruses vary so much they are hard to pin down to a point where you could determine this one is contagious and that is not, unless you are testing for a single specimen, as we did with COVID.

But in general, viruses follow a pattern and it’s that pattern that allows you to track your level of contagion. In short, here’s the general protocol. You are most contagious within the first two days of a cold, flu or other virus episode. You could be contagious up to five days after you first present with symptoms, but it is highly unlikely that you could transmit germs to another after that period of time unless you are continuing to experience physical symptoms like fever, chills, coughing.

If you are only experiencing stuffiness, you may be uncomfortable, but you are very unlikely to be contagious. No physical symptoms, two to five days after first symptom appeared and you should be good to go.

Thanks, Doc. You are a life saver, once again. I cannot wait to wrap my arms around my grandson, toss him in the air and laugh when he laughs, giggle when he giggles and pray you were right and he doesn’t sneeze if I happen to.

REMEMBERING GEORGE MYERS AND TEDDY SANDS PARKER

THERE was something very special about George Myers, special way beyond what he knew about hospitality and the legacy he left, the promotion boards he founded, the associations he served, the market opportunities he created.

In a rough, tough industry powered by way too high levels of testosterone in the days of Resorts International and on into the early days of Kerzner, George Myers showed a kind of human-ness.

That is not to say he was soft, but he brought a relatable touch in the days when brilliant and brutal went hand in hand, days that gave rise to a person like J Barrie Farrington who could walk with top management and fight for workers’ rights in the same breath.

Men like Myers and Kerzner shaped the course of the mass market tourist model that exists today – a model created by the late Sir Stafford Sands whose impact lasted well over three quarters of a century.

Sands’ name may not have come up this week in the accolades for Mr. Myers had it not been for the fact that coincidentally there was another death that did not command headlines like Mr. Myers, but for those who knew her, her absence will be just as large.

Her name was Meredes Elizabeth ‘Teddy’ Sands Parker. She passed away at age 80 on March 3 during surgery at a local hospital. Teddy, as friends knew her, was the only daughter of the late Sir Stafford Sands.

With her deep, husky voice, she was never more than a few words away from a joke, a thought that would bring laughter, a satirical comment that came out of nowhere and blew you away with its honesty.

Her life was not public like her father’s, but her friends were just as many or more and they stood by her forever as did her only son, Andrew, who is left to carry on the raspy, beloved legacy this daughter of a tourism giant left, to find in the everyday life a reason to laugh or cringe, to wonder about and to raise a toast to.

Mr Myers and Teddy Sands Parker shared more in common than they realised. In each was vested a reservoir of wisdom, seasoned with instinct, infused with a deep understanding of how the world turned, both born and bred by the engine that continues to drive the nation, each coming to a fork in the road and choosing the path that best suited them.

And both added immeasurably to the fabric of The Bahamas. We shall miss you, George and Teddy. May you rest in peace.