Then, a couple of weeks ago a colleague didn’t turn up at work; we later we found out they had this exotic Mexican illness. It seemed a worrying, but also intriguing: that the great plague of 2009 had arrived on my doorstep was extraordinary, but what was it like? Are we really turned into blood-crazed zombies, as we are lead to assume? Interviewing my colleague, Sarah, seemed like an ideal way of answering some questions about swine flu. Sarah is 35 years old and lives in Rochester with her family, this is her story:

In our area there’s been a problem with swine flu. The local school (of 600 pupils) has had 14 cases over about five to six days, including some staff. Finally the school was closed for a day and they had a massive clean, and pretty much fumigated the building. Also, some close friends caught it: three sisters, one of whom is my five-year-old daughter Lilly’s friend at pre-school.

I’d say I’m healthy. I work out three times a week at the local gym, I don’t drink much and I generally eat a healthy balance diet. When I mix in crowds, it’s mostly through the kids at school. I have two sons in senior school and a daughter in pre-school (who’s about to start school). This mixing mostly happens at dropping off and picking up time, but also at parents’ evenings and sports day. The other times I’d mix with others would be in the pub or shopping centre.

The first instance I felt ill was on the Friday. I usually go to the gym and take my little girl swimming. This time I didn’t feel energised enough to swim, so sat fully clothed on the side and watched her. I felt exhausted.

Over the weekend I got on with things and came into work on Monday. On Tuesday I took a while to get going. I was hot and cold, and also had a headache and felt absolutely exhausted. I didn’t have aches and pains at this time, but I went to bed early and was in a deep sleep by 8.20.

I woke up in the early hours of Wednesday morning, around five, and felt like I’d been hit by a lorry – aching like I’d done a very hard workout. I normally get up at six, but kept on ’snoozing’ the alarm and by around seven I realised I couldn’t get up. My head was thumping, my throat was sore and I generally felt like I had a full-on dose of flu.

I also wondered if I was being paranoid: I didn’t think ‘Do I have swine flu?’ Still, I thought I’d take it easy. With a family of five you don’t have the luxury of sitting down and doing nothing, but I did take it easy. I got Lilly her breakfast and then watched a movie with her, I was sitting on the sofa falling in and out of sleep. I also took some ibuprofen.

I had a swine flu leaflet and in the afternoon I thought I’d read through it. The leaflet listed the symptoms, and I had the lot: a sore throat, achey limbs, headache, loss of appetite. But by the time I took the symptoms seriously, the doctor was closed. I’d left it so long because I thought, I’m not going to panic or get on the swine flu bandwagon. It was only after it got worse through Wednesday that I checked the swine flu symptoms.

Thursday morning I rang the doctor and spoke to the receptionist. I said I had the symptoms and was told the doctor would call after the morning surgery. The nurse asked me to take my temperature, but I found it difficult as it was difficult to see. Luckily, a friend came around who had a gadget that allows you to take a temperature in the ear.

At lunchtime, the doctor called and after a quick chat prescribed TamiFlu, my friend (and Flu Buddy) went to get the medicine in the middle of the afternoon. I took a capsule immediately and had a second before bed, although you’re not meant to as its a five day course. That night I still felt bad, but slept well.

On Friday my husband came back from his week away. Although I was still weak and tired, the main symptoms had gone and I generally felt better. Swine Flu takes it out of you. By Saturday I felt so much better that I took a slow walk along the side of the river, which felt good. I felt so much better on Sunday that I went to the gym and did half an hour on the running machine and had a swim. By Monday I was back in the office, although the boss sent me home, just in case I was infectious.

The NHS in my area seems to be coping very well, they responded immediately, and there was absolutely no hesitation in prescribing TamiFlu, which worked immediately in combating the symptoms.

There seems to be a lot of hysteria in the media, and although it is frightening, there have been deaths from other illnesses as well. The media reaction is a shame as it’s making people scared, but it’s been mild for most people I know who’ve had it.

Generally, my experience has been of fear: it took me a while to accept I had it. There was my concern for my children as a parent, because it’s much more dangerous for children. I was especially concerned for her son who has asthma, and weak lungs and heart. But it’s nowhere as bad as the media have been painting it.”

We’ve been told it’s bad – worse even than the recession – but so far the statistics haven’t borne this out. I asked another friend of mine who also got the bug too,  what it was like and was told, “it’s just like normal flu”.

Actually, the nonsensical wake-up call was welcome. My second interview since I’d joined the jobless millions was scheduled for this afternoon. Technically it was the third, but as last week’s second interview was such an unmitigated disaster I’ve decided to edit it out of history. Kinda.

One more day to prepare scintillating answers to questions, to bone up on my potential employer’s and their rivals’ sites and erase the memory of last week’s lacklustre performance. Come Tuesday afternoon, I’d walk through the door into that interview like Rocky taking on Apollo Creed in Rocky II – quietly confident after an earlier bloodbath.

In the end, French cuisine came to rescue. The lovely Autumn was due back from a business trip last night, so I decided to climb the north face of the culinary Eiger and make a welcome-back souffle. The supposedly difficult dish rose without a hitch. Surely now, I could do anything.

Greeting my interviewers was a different matter. A large bottle of disinfectant lotion stood on the desk at reception as a clear reminder. In light of swine flu, was a hand shake medically advisable? Perhaps a limp one wouldn’t be as infectious. Maybe I should join my hands together in Namaste. As long as I didn’t use the Eskimo greeting, it would probably be ok. I’ll find out if the old-fashioned hand shake and interview went ok in a few days, supposing none of us have succumbed in the meantime.