Showing posts with label antibiotics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label antibiotics. Show all posts

Monday, January 15, 2024

Microstory 2061: Anyway, I’m Taking Some Drugs

Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software
If you’ve been following my microblog, you know that I got sick again. It’s not even the same thing. The first one was a virus that I can’t pronounce, but this one is a bacterium that I can’t pronounce. I guess my immune system was in shambles for so long that something else managed to get in there before I closed up shop. I should have known. It’s definitely happened to me before. I just forget these things. The thing about being immortal is it doesn’t change your brain chemistry. It’s a purely physiological situation. It’s pretty much impossible to study the condition, because no one could ever take my blood, or anything, but I think that one of the downsides is an inability to improve in certain ways. I could never get stronger. Lifting weights, doing cardio, none of it mattered. Exercise didn’t make me feel better (it also didn’t make me feel worse at least). Nothing could change. The brain isn’t a muscle, but I think it suffers from the same limitations. I could gain new memories, of course, but I couldn’t really grow as a person. Anyway, I’m taking some drugs besides the antibiotics, so I’m not sure if I’m making any sense, but basically what I’m saying is my memory sucks. People would always tell me I should keep a diary to remind myself of my own history, but I would always forget to do it, so that never really worked. I’m surprised at how diligent I’ve been about this. Don’t expect me to keep going. If it’s anything like my previous attempts, I’ll stop by the end of the month. The only thing more boring than this world is talking about my personal experiences with it. Nick Fisherman IV, signing off. Oh, wait. Did I never tell you what my name was before? Oh my God, that’s kind of funny. Maybe I’ll explain where the name comes from, and what makes me the fourth out of four. It’s not anywhere near as simple as that my father was the third, and so on up the bloodline. It’s more like how they name kings.

Friday, August 6, 2021

Microstory 1685: Earthbound Before Death

After several decades of isolation—remaining physically separate from each other using small fusion-powered orbital ships—technology was approaching an inevitable step in Isoverse. When people have the ability to connect themselves to a virtual network to interact with each other, it only makes sense that many will eventually decide that they no longer require bodies in base reality. This alone would not necessarily allow a species to last and thrive. At an early enough point in technological advancement, if everyone did this, the population would stagnate. This is fine, if it’s what they want, but if they want to both do this, and propagate the species, they’re probably going to have to figure out how to make new people in the simulations. Yes, theoretically, enough of them could keep their physical substrates to accomplish this goal, but who do you ask to do that, and how long will it go on before they start feeling like nothing more than a baby-making subclass? The most sustainable model assuming no limitations in natural resources, like power and raw material, is by developing artificial intelligence. This AI will essentially replace the concept of birthing offspring, whether any given entity starts out as a blank slate, as babies once did, or is switched on with full capabilities. Such technology would allow people to upload their consciousnesses into VR permanently, and continue to live however they want there, without worrying about missing out on some basic human imperatives, like creating and raising new life. Still, not everyone in Isoverse was okay with this. Not everyone wanted to be immortal, or to only make AI children. These were the ones who would come to learn the cost of isolation, and consider the possibility that that cost was irreversible for them. When they tried to return to Earth, they found survival to be much harder than it was before.

Those who wanted to return to the surface of the planet actually weren’t returning anywhere. They were all young enough to have been born on the isolation ships, and had never once set foot outside. They were fed controlled food, and breathed filtered air. They had never gotten sick, and therefore, never developed antibodies. Experts attempted to explain this fact to them, but they would not hear of it. The government had never thought to make going back down to Earth illegal. It was only against the law to break isolation while on the ships, which wasn’t that much of a problem, because they were all too small to hold a party, or something, anyway. The best of friends have never met each other in person...ever. The reality of what would happen to their bodies by not exposing themselves to a natural environment was not lost on the Isoversals who first thought to launch themselves into space. They attempted to keep the people inoculated, but this was difficult, since a lot of research simply could not continue on the ships. They probably should have sent researchers back down on a regular basis in order to stay up to date on how to protect against the ongoing evolution of disease, but I imagine they didn’t want the public to think it was a good idea to return permanently. Not a single one of the Earth-bounders managed to survive for long in that environment. They had plenty of resources, and knew how to protect against the elements, but a single cut was pretty much all it took to get an infection that they couldn’t fight against. Had they gone right back up into space, they might have stood a chance, but their medicine reserves ran low faster than they thought, and the experiment was soon over.

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

Microstory 1383: Solitude

News Reporter: Solitudinarian, thank you so much for meeting with me. It is a great honor.
Solitudinarian: Thank you.
News Reporter: First question, have you found it difficult to reintegrate into society, because of all the technology you’re not familiar with?
Solitudinarian: Because of all the technology with which I’m not familiar.
News Reporter: That’s one thing that’s changed in the forty-two years you were away.
Solitudinarian: Grammar? Grammar doesn’t change.
News Reporter: Okay.
Solitudinarian: It’s been tough, but I’m not sure I would use the term reintegration. I have no interest in remaining in your world, even after all I’ve seen.
News Reporter: But you returned to society because you needed something?
Solitudinarian: Yes, I was dying of an infection. I was feeling desperate, and I came back for help. I had no idea there would be this huge media frenzy about it. I only agreed to this interview, because you work for a station that I recognize. I don’t understand all these padcasts, and computer bogs.
News Reporter: So, you still feel disillusioned with civilization?
Solitudinarian: I can’t really answer that honestly. I mean, I don’t know everything that’s been going on. I still see racism, though. And I see the government is still standing, which I’m opposed to. It may be a better government. It may even be the best possible, but I still do not wish to remain under its rule.
News Reporter: Fair enough. Tell me about how you were living. What did you do day-to-day?
Solitudinarian: Well, I stuck near my cabin. It’s by a bountiful stream so I never wanted for food. I learned what plants were edible in my area, and eventually cultivated, so I could grow them in a more controlled environment, and in sufficient quantities.
News Reporter: Did you hunt?
Solitudinarian: ...
News Reporter: I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was a trick question.
Solitudinarian: I’m ashamed to say I did. Very infrequently, though. If I had a bad winter, I might have to catch a rabbit or two. But I still consider myself a pescatarian. I don’t even keep a goat for milk, or anything.
News Reporter: When you started getting sick, had you experienced anything like that before? What were your thoughts?
Solitudinarian: I’ve been sick before, of course, even after I left home. I always got through it, but I do understand that I’m an old man now, and my body doesn’t get over things like it used to. According to doctors, all I needed were antibiotics, and they were pretty convinced I did the right thing by seeking help. It was definitely a last resort, though. I didn’t want to do it.
News Reporter: Well, we’re all glad you survived.
Solitudinarian: For your interview?
News Reporter: Nope. Just because you’re a human being, and we could all do a little bit better at looking out for one another.
Solitudinarian: I see.
News Reporter: Let’s switch gears a little bit. Has anyone tried to teach you how to use a computer, or a phone, or any other tech that wasn’t around before you went into the woods?
Solitudinarian: They’ve taught me some. The social worker the state assigned me gave me something called a flip phone. They tried to give me this crazy device that you’re supposed to use with your fingers. There aren’t any buttons on the thing itself. It all comes up on the screen. Anyway, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, and I sound like an idiot.
News Reporter: You do not, sir.
Solitudinarian: I couldn’t handle it, so they just gave me a regular one, so they can keep in contact with me. I still have to remember to plug it in every week, which has caused some problems, because in my day, phones just stayed plugged in.
News Reporter: So, they set you up with housing too? You have a room?
Solitudinarian: Yeah, I live in something called a halfway house. It’s for people who just got out of prison. They got ‘em all over, but this particular one is designed for old men like me, so I don’t have any problems with them.
News Reporter: But you’re trying to get back to the woods?
Solitudinarian: The doctors say they want me to stay to run more tests, but I’ve made peace with my condition. If anything like this happens again, I’ll just stay in my cabin, and wait to die. Like I said, I’m old. When I was born, life expectancy was only around seventy, so I would say I did okay. My life’s been pretty great. I don’t pay taxes, or deal with nosy neighbors. I’m ready to go, if it’s my time.
News Reporter: In terms of taxes, how does that work? Are they saying you broke any laws by leaving society?
Solitudinarian: My social worker is helping me with the legal stuff, to make sure I didn’t do anything wrong. I think it’s gonna be fine. He’s confident, even if I do technically owe the government money, they’ll waive it, because I haven’t actually done anything bad. The fact that I was so young when I left, I don’t own any guns, and I’ve never stolen, works in my favor.
News Reporter: That’s interesting. Thanks for speaking to us. I hope you go back to the life you want, but I also want you to be safe and healthy.
Solitudinarian: Thank you very much, madam.

Saturday, June 20, 2015

Seeing is Becoming: Antibiotics (Part V)

Saga trekked through the mud and thicket of the Diamond Forest with determination. Despite being natives to this land, her small search party found themselves easily falling behind her. They informed her that their home continent had more mountains and lakes, and fewer forests and deserts. She, on the other hand, was used to extreme terrain. Her job required adaptation, and she absolutely loved it. Sometimes she was miles and miles away from the nearest human. She found comfort in being alone, not because she didn’t like people, but because it left her to her own devices. The knowledge that the smallest of problems could lead to death made life that much more exciting. It was then that she realized that, aside from Vearden, she was probably lightyears from the nearest human. That was enough to make her shiver. Isolation is one thing.
Saga kept pushing forward, and eventually found herself in a clearing. The land was much flatter and barren ahead of her. When she looked back, the forest was gone. She had been transported again, but to where? Up ahead was a small white building. It could have been a home, or a one-room schoolhouse. She hadn’t really seen how the common Orothsew live, so she very well could have still been on the same planet. The rest of her group hadn’t come with her, though, so she shrugged her shoulders and moved on. There was obviously nothing more she could do to find Vearden.
Seeing no other option, she knocked on the door. A man answered it. He looked exhausted and scared, and barely noticed that she was dressed in unusual garb. She was so shocked that she barely noticed he was wearing unusual garb as well. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“Um...I was just wondering if you...had a telephone that I could borrow?”
That woke him up. “A telephone?” he said with a bit of a laugh. “You have about a decade before the telephone is invented, if I recall correctly. It’s 1868.”
“Oh, really?”
“What year are you from?”
“21st century,” Saga said. “You?”
“20th.” He looked a bit relieved. “Don’t tell me what happens.”
“Are we on Earth?”
“The hell else would we be?”
“Never mind.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be a doctor, would you?”
“Nah, I’m sorry,” Saga replied. I’m just a photographer.”
He was phenomenally disappointed. It did seem that she was sent there to help. They didn’t know who was sending them through time and space, or exactly why they were doing it. But the...powers that be, let’s call them, appear to have some kind of reason. It couldn’t just be random. The fact that she was sent back to Earth, but over 150 years earlier, had to mean something. Either she was there to help him, or he was there to help her. She was sure of it.
“But I did happen to have a medical kit when I slipped back.”
“Do you have antibiotics?”
“Indeed, for animals.”
“I thought you took pictures.”
“Yes, but you can’t usually buy human antibiotics unless you’re already sick. Survivalists buy from pet stores to be prepared.”
“You’re beautiful,” the man said. “Come on in, please. My name is Sam, by the way.”
“Saga,” she volleyed. She stepped inside and began to dig through her pack.
“Interesting name. Common in the future?” He led her into another room where a woman was sitting up in bed. She was coughing and sweating profusely. Another man was keeping her cool with a wet towel. “Who is this?”
“Our savior,” Sam answered. “She has antibiotics. Right now, we’re the only people in the world who can effectively treat pneumonia.”
“She does?” the other woman asked.
“Are those the things that kill germs and cure diseases?”
“They are,” Saga confirmed. “In so many words.”
“Looks like we’ve encountered another salmon,” the second man said. “I’m Edward. This is our friend, Lorena. Those two are from the future. I’m from the past.”
“Saga,” she repeated. “Future.”
“Are those them?” Sam asked.
“Uh, yeah.” She handed him the bottle. “Here, sorry. I just didn’t expect to meet anyone else like me. Have you been doing this long?”
“Well, with time travel, it’s a little hard to tell,” Sam said while he took a couple pills from the bottle and gave them to Lorena. “But it’s been at least a year. She and I come from the same time, and we keep meeting him at different times. Something is pulling us together, just like it pulled you here.”
“That’s fascinating. I just started. There’s no way to tell what year, though; not where I was.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure you’re ready for that.” She pointed to Edward. “I know that he isn’t.”
Edward laughed. “I think I would surprise you.”
“How many of these can you spare?”
“Every last one of them,” Saga said. That there bottle is yourn.”
Lorena nearly spit out her water. “That’s the spirit. You’re already acting like it’s 1868. You’ll fit right in. But where did you get those clothes?”
“Thats what you’re not ready for,” Saga said teasingly.
“Just tell me one thing,” Lorena started, sitting up to get more comfortable. “Do they still remember Kurt Cobain where you’re from?”
Saga shook her head affirmatively. “Of course we do.”
“Was it Courtney? I’ve always thought she did it.”
“Still just rumors, far as I know.”
Lorena grew sadder. “Could I ask you a favor?”
“I’ll do whatever I can. I can’t be sure how long I’m staying here, though.”
“We consistently head backwards in time. Edward has agreed to look him up if he reaches that point, but I was hoping you would too. It’s my son. I left him in 1994.” She began to choke up. “I don’t think I’ll ever see him again. But if you only just started, there’s a chance your pattern lets you go back and forth.”
Saga breathed in deeply. She had been hesitant to explain herself, but it was probably inevitable. She didn’t want to lie. “It’s true that I don’t know my pattern, and that my foray into 1868 was...unexpected, even after my first jump. So there’s a chance I’ll run into him. But I feel it’s only right that you know that I’m not, strictly speaking, a time traveler. I was sent to another planet. That’s why we didn’t know what year it was while we were there. I promise to look for your son if I can. I fear, however, that such a thing rests in the hands of whatever entity is controlling us.”
“I know,” Lorena agreed. “We do not appear to have control. I would still like to think that they listen to us. Maybe the three of us are stuck with our patterns, but maybe you’re not. Maybe you don’t have a pattern at all, and they really will take your feelings into consideration. I’m very religious. And I actually don’t believe in the powers that be. I believe only in God. And I trust in him.”
“I sure hope you’re right, Lorena. After these last couple of days, I’m not certain I’m not already home. But for you, I’ll pray to go back, if only to check on your son. What’s his name. Where might I find him?”
Lorena gave her the information. Sam had a few requests as well, but nothing quite so profound. To their surprise, Saga remained with them in the mid 19th century for the next three years. At that point, a portal opened up in the middle of nowhere, and she felt drawn back through it, knowing in her heart that Orothsew was where she belonged at the time. She stepped through and looked back at the friends she had grown to love deeply. Sam and Lorena disappeared to continue their travels in time, leaving Edward behind alone. He smiled and waved as well. The portal closed.
“Where did you just come from?” Vearden asked. He then took her in a bear hug.