Black October Confusion

Greetings! If you are ready this, then I, in fact, survived my class field trip to Whatcom County, Washington. Yes, that's 4 days in the backwoods of America. In the cold. In the Rain. In the car. In the most dire need of cold medicine.

Tired, cold, sick, crabby and lost, I was okay until I was called a downer by one of my passengers. Then I wasn't okay. That hurt my feeling. I'm having a bad day, and instead of a little something to cheer me up, I'm banished to social Siberia...oh, and I had to continue to drive them around for the night and the weekend! Bah. It's done with. Moving on.

So, everyone who's known me for years knows that my very, very least favourite time of year has rolled around yet again, and this year, there is a particular poignancy to my Black October. Back in 1994, over a period of 20 days, 5 people of varying acquaintance in my life died, including my second cousin, Robert. About my age at the time, he died from complications due to Hepatitis C, which he contracted through a blood transfusion in the 80's. He was an unfortunate victim of the Canadian Red Cross tainted blood scandal which afflicted tens of thousands of Canadians with HIV and Hepatits C across the country. And this year, just two days ago, five men were acquitted of criminal responsibility in the processing of tainted blood.

I don't know my mother's cousin, Robert's mother, and I don't know how she felt about the criminal trial or the verdict that came down. I didn't know Robert either, outside of family christmas cards. But he was my age. And he was afflicted, while I wasn't. So this year, Robert's death takes on a new, confusing meaning for me. I'm less than a year from a wedding. I'm finishing school for the second time in December. I'm laying around watching TV, blogging, and wearing a big, fuzzy housecoat. Experiences that negligence, criminal or not, stole from members of my kin. I'd never ask 'Why him, not me?' He suffered from a blood illness, I do not, and our biographies determined a set of circumstances beyond either of our control. It's just sad that my biography is still being written because I had different genetic markers, and because I wasn't exposed to the negligent procedures and controls that took the life of someone who shared common genetic material.

Criminal? I'm confused.