What a scary sounding foreign name. No one knew what it was capable of doing just two months ago. Then, if I had to interview a person who had just recovered from the virus, I would probably have gone in trepidation after making sure I was fully-clothed in protective gear and muttering a silent prayer in the process.

Yes, all this even though he might have recovered. What a difference two months has made, after health authorities have found that the virus is not all as serious as they once thought.

On Friday, I had to speak to a teenage boy who had just hours earlier been declared free from the bug. Yet, I didn't even feel an ounce of fear. In fact, I was quite surprised at the over-reaction of people to the disease or to those who have contracted it.

He was recounting his experience at the hospital where people were avoiding him like the plague just because he was wearing a mask. The sixteen-year-old boy thought it was silly. So did I. What struck me about him though, was not the fact that he was another number adding up to the tally of H1N1 cases in Singapore. But, how he remained bubbly throughout the one-hour interview.

Not once was he fazed by the reaction he might be getting when he returns to school on Monday. On the contrary, his friends have been eagerly waiting for him to go out with them, he says. The numerous text messages he was getting while the interview was going on was probably proof of his popularity and that it was no big deal among his teenage friends.

One girl (whom he vehemently denies) is his girlfriend, had even gone to the hospital he was staying in to pass him a teddy bear - albeit through a nurse. When another friend he had not spoken to in ages called while I was there, he almost proudly exclaimed that he recently had H1N1. With a television crew, photographer and journalists milling around him, perhaps it might be almost understandable to hear that tinge of pride in his voice.

His mother, on the other hand, was slightly alarmed that he'd consented to an interview with the media. Her worry, like most Singaporeans': Would people over-react? While the teenager almost sprinted out the front door, his mother was shouting after him to avoid crowded places and to return back home early. Her worry is that he might catch it again - or worse, pass it on to others. The fact that he had recovered did only so much to ease her worries.

For this Republic Polytechnic student, his bubbly personality probably stopped him from being alienated. But there are probably many other quieter people being shunned right now, from people who still don't know what the disease is and what harm it could bring their way. So, the typical Singaporean mentality kicks in: Better to be kiasu and stay away.

Perhaps, the older generation or even those who vividly remember SARS are still not quite convinced that H1N1 might pose no more danger than the seasonal flu. It didn't help that when not much was known of the virus, it appeared as deadly as SARS. With the World Health Organisation throwing words like pandemic, it is no wonder that people are still afraid, but this will probably change now that health authorities are likening it to the seasonal flu.

Having said that, the most important thing, which Singaporeans should already be practising is good hygiene. Now is the time to remind oneself to dispose one's tissues properly and not spit randomly on pavements.

Read Joanne Lee's rather opposite germophobe take on the H1N1 spread here.

Read also Cases cross 1,000 mark here.

WITH the birth of liberalisation and women's rights, many have turned to placing an added emphasis on their careers and holding off having babies until much later.

But by the time these women turn 40, the chances of conceiving falls to a ten per cent success rate and many are left wondering if having a career and a family is mutually exclusive.

The birth of a Singaporean baby through a rapid egg freezing method last year might change that dilemma.

Career-minded women the world over are opting to freeze the eggs they produce in their prime and return for IVF treatments only when they are ready to start a family.
This effectively stops their biological clock because when frozen, eggs stay at the age they were when they were extracted.

But in Singapore, Ministry of Health (MOH) guidelines allow women to freeze eggs only for medical reasons and for up to five years. These women must also be married and must apply for permission to keep the eggs frozen beyond five years.

These rules mean that the group that benefits the most from this egg freezing method are those with cancer.

As treatments like radiotherapy and chemotherapy can make a woman barren, she can now opt to have her eggs frozen ahead of these treatments for use down the road.

But, if the health ministry decides to allow egg freezing for social reasons, the implications are broad.

A British tabloid wrote this last year: “Picture the scene, high streets across the country filled with women in their fifties and sixties pushing buggies, a whole new generation of 'ice babies'.”

As attractive an option as it seems to push your biological clock back, is it possible to foster a healthy relationship with your child when you are 50 years older?

Not too long ago, this would have been the age gap between a grandparent and grandchild.

There are also medical implications. Although there have been about 200 births from this method worldwide, there are no guarantees that stored eggs will result in a live birth.

The long-term health implications for children born from frozen eggs are also unknown. Plus, there is the pain and suffering of going through IVF itself, which only has a 30 per cent success rate.

Fertility experts worldwide have also warned that a rise in the number of women freezing eggs for social reasons to delay pregnancy could divert valuable resources away from helping those with fertility problems.

Freezing eggs for social and not medical reasons also means that the hospital or medical centre is dealing with a customer and not an infertile patient.

Managing customer expectations is different than with infertile patients as there is nothing “wrong” with them and they are using a service.So insurance might become an issue as customers who do not get pregnant might become litigious.

There is also the question of technological changes. Who knows what the quality of frozen eggs from 10 years ago will be like and there might be more advanced methods of freezing in the future.

So, instead of cheering the birth of technology that allows us to have babies later, it is imperative we sit down and think about its implications.

The saying “be careful what you wish for” might certainly hold true here.

POPPING a sleeping pill is usually a fairly innocuous thing done by many who are either stressed with their work or with their daily life. But for others, it becomes a nightmare when they need the pills to survive the day.

Patients recounted their tales of their desperate, and sometimes successful, attempts to get 30 tablets for their daily hit.

Some doctors have inadvertendly helped to fuel this demand.

At least for 18 doctors who were disciplined by the Singapore Medical Council for the past four years. This year alone, 19 cases are being investigated by the industry watchdog. Although current figures are not available, it was reported in 2005 that seven million sleeping pills are prescribed here every year.

This issue is not new. It came up in 2004 when eight doctors from the Grace Polyclinic chain were punished for indiscriminately prescribing addictive sleeping pills. In fact, it took some coaxing before doctors were even willing to talk to me on this topic.

Many general practitioners that I called from the phonebook said they did not want to comment before hurriedly putting down the phone. Some of the ones I knew said "this was a sensitive topic".

 So what is the appeal in these drugs, addictive when consumed for long term, that has caused some of these doctors to dish out them out so freely?

Profit margins can be quite substantial. A tablet of benzodiazepine - which is a class of drug used to treat insomnia and anxiety - costs a few cents but are sold for between 70 cents to $3 a tablet.

One patient told me that he managed to buy 30 erimin tablets at one go from a GP who did not ask him many questions. This would mean that the doctor could have gained $45 just for that one transaction.

 It could also be a question of experience. "Most experienced doctors will be able to tell when a patient is an addict when he walks in," said Dr Adrian Wang, a consultant psychiatrist in private practice. "When a patient comes in and straight away asks me for Dormicum or is not interested to work on his sleeping habits first, warning bells start going off as I know this could be an addict," said Dr Kenny Pang, a sleep specialist who preaches good sleep hygiene and habits for his patients.

The Health Ministry advocates physicians to spend time with patients asking for sleeping pills and assess and justify the need for these tablets.

But often, general practitioners are hard pressed for time to do so, said one GP who did not want to be named. "Quite frankly, doctors can be exploited by patients. Patients can give a good story on stress and insomnia and a doctor who is hard pressed for time will just issue the tablet and send them away," he said.

 The problem might not be as widespread in Western countries like United Kingdom, as patients would sue their doctors if they end up being addicted to the sleeping pills prescribed by their doctor, said Associate Professor Munidasa Winslow of the department of psychological medicine in the National University Health System (NUHS). "In Singapore, patients are incredibly compliant," he added.

 Of course, doctors are not to be blamed all the time. When there is a will there is a way for determined patients who want to get their hands on these pills. Often, they doctor-hop with some even having Excel spreadsheets of the different doctors they go to to get their pills, said Dr Winslow.

 It amazed me to hear one 50-year-old's story on the road to her addiction. Her son, playing truant from school during his "O" level period, caused her much anxiety and stress. The beautician started going to a psychiatrist who prescribed benzodiazepines to ease her distress. She slowly started getting addicted and "couldnt go without it", she said. She went to three different GPs in the same week telling one white lie after another and soon, she was taking up to ten tablets a day.

 Another 29-year-old Sales Executive told me that he would buy erimin-5 tablets whenever he was going clubbing to "get a high". When asked if he was an addict he replied without hesitation that he was not but in the same breadth said the most number of tablets he took at one go was 70!

 So can this problem be stamped before it gets out of control?

The Ministry of Health is reviewing guidelines on benzodiazepines and said it will be releasing them by end of the month.

When asking people in the profession on their suggestions to tackle this issue, the general consensus appeared to be self-regulation.

Many supported the idea of a central registry where doctors can key in patients' records which can be accessed by other physicians who will then be alerted if the patients are repeat customers.

 Medical Director of Raffles Medical Dr Chng Shih Kiat stressed on training of doctors in private practice, especially in the areas of behavioural therapy and psychotherapy to pick out the addicts.

Perhaps, the more plausible suggestion is patient education as Government Parliamentary Committee (GPC) for Health summed it up: "For insurance sales, for example, agents are required to explain basic information with clients before concluding the sale. Perhaps we should consider something similiar for certain prescriptions."

I, for one, am considering myself lucky to be one of the rare few who can sleep anywhere at anytime. So for now, I'm keeping the sleeping pill at bay.