Fomites and Vectors
Loyal readers will recall that I was trained and still maintain a license as a registered nurse. There are those who imagine that means I know something about medicine when, in fact, it simply means I know how to empty a bedpan, clean up vomit, insert a foley catheter into a 96 year old man, and make an occupied bed. Back in the ‘90s, when I was in Nursing School, we visited a skills lab every week to view film strips, which were reels of film that you threaded into a machine, then manually advanced every time you heard a ding from the audio cassette that accompanied them. I have a vivid memory of watching the film strip, How to Make an Occupied Bed. It must have been early in my nursing training because all I could think was, “Why in the hell don’t you just make the patient get out of the bed?” Thirty years later, I get it, and it’s just a matter of time before I educate my housekeeper in that skill.
All the corona virus talk of late has made me realize that I actually do remember a few more things than that from nursing school. I was texting my Xennial friend Ashley the other day, telling her I had been doing research into whether a tennis ball can serve as a fomite for the virus. The word fomite popped out of my brain straight to my fingers as easily as a four-letter word (and that is super easy for me). Ashley allowed as how it was a new word for her and she works in the pharmaceutical industry, so I took that to mean many other readers might not be familiar with it either. Then last night I heard a news commentator refer to a doorknob as a vector when it is, in fact, a fomite, and that was the last straw. I gave up on imagining they could use proper grammar years ago. Now do we have to sacrifice science as well? I decided it is time for some education about what a fomite is, and how it differs from its cousin, the vector. And before you highly educated, advanced-degree-holding readers get ready to write me tedious explanations of how I got it all wrong, remember that you are getting what you paid for here. Then ask yourself why you are reading this inane and nearly pointless essay in the first place.
FOMITES
A fomite is an inanimate object that can indirectly transfer disease from one organism to another. In my nursing skills lab, the film strip showed a picture of a garbage can, which is why, to this day, I make a point of not eating out of garbage cans. Or garbage can lids, for that matter. Everyone instinctively knows that a toilet is a fomite, which is why a woman likes to hover her ass 3 feet above the seat, keeping herself germ-free whilst leaving plague ridden puddles for the next user. Unless you use one of those tissue seat protectors, because everyone knows that a 0.01 mm thickness of tissue paper is the best defense against germs. Other examples of fomites are door knobs, cell phones, countertops and pillows. I wonder how many of you are now going to start travelling with your own pillow, if indeed any of us ever travel again.
VECTORS
A vector, like a fomite, indirectly transfers disease from one organism to another, meaning there is no human-to-human contact involved. The difference is that a vector is a living organism, whereas the fomite is a non-living object. The most frequently cited example of a vector is a mosquito. Other examples of vectors are flies, bats and ticks. Vectors don’t actually cause the disease, they just carry it from one organism to the next. You know how, when you smack a mosquito, it sometimes leave a splat of blood? Did it ever occur to you that maybe that isn’t your own blood? How creepy is that?
TENNIS BALLS
Now back to the question of whether a tennis ball can be a fomite for the corona virus. I never did find a definitive answer to that question but have decided that, if a player is not actively exhibiting symptoms and does not cough or sneeze directly onto the ball, blow his or her nose on the ball, lick the ball, or cough or sneeze into his or her hand and then wipe that hand on the ball, it is unlikely that the ball could be a fomite for COVID-19. On the other hand, making sure you always stay at least 6 feet away from your doubles partner could make for some interesting points. Also, I personally am not signing any tennis autographs until this is over.
Now, you may be asking yourself, “Why do these definitions matter to me?” I doubt that they do, but do you have anything better to do right now than read this? Obviously not. So please be safe everyone. Stay home and, when you can’t stay home, keep your distance from your fellow potential vectors. And just to be safe, don’t lick tennis balls or eat out of trashcans until we get the all-clear.