So the basic premise is that man cured cancer but the cure lead to an even more destructive and disturbing disease — H5N3P2…or something like that. “Westphail Virus” — named after Patient Zero. Probably this concept has been done before — I think I’ve read something along the lines in some zombie novel somewhere. Maybe it was the cure for the common cold? Anyhow…. Not much to speak of in terms of quality writing today, but an excerpt nonetheless.
Still, I had to know for myself. Not wanting to go outside, and not really believing that I’d find any answers out there anyway, I sat down hard on the bed, and turned on the radio.
“…this momentous occasion, its repercussions on science, medicine, the economy, human existence. Mankind is on the threshold of a golden age and we have slain the dragon that guarded the door.â€
I recognized the last line as an allusion to a quote from Bertrand Russell, a British philosopher and logician who was referring to religion, not cancer — sure, it was easily reworked to be relevant, but…. These thoughts — my annoyance at the misappropriation — precluded all others, but it soon sunk in as I listened to report after report. Doctors at Johns Hopkins had performed treatments that had completely and safely eradicated a wide variety of cancer cells in human patients. Not only that, but they were on the brink of being able to prevent cancer from ever forming in the first place. Ever. They cured cancer.
My mouth hung open, I couldn’t think of a thing to do. It felt like the world was a brand new place. I looked out the window, saw the sun in the sky, shining brightly, and even though it was February, it felt like it was actually warm outside, like maybe they had, while they were at it, found a cure for Chicago winter. Maybe they’d cured AIDS and leprosy, and the hunger problem and the obesity problem, and fuck it, the economy too. And I sank back in my bed because I realized that there was hope out there in the universe. And I also knew I wasn’t going to do a damn thing with it.