My girlfriend turned thirty-three over the weekend. This is my favourite photo of the two of us. She was exhausted from being less than a month away from giving birth, and I’m incredibly sleep deprived from making sure there was always ice in her orange juice.

Her pregnancy was considered ultra-high risk, so we spent a lot of time in the Ottawa General Hospital. We also had billions of visitors, all of whom were named H1N1.

Eventually my girlfriend started showing symptoms of the flu. So she was tossed into isolation, where I had to change into and out of a gown, face mask, face shield and gloves anytime I walked in, or out, of her room. The second test, three days later, said the first test was bullshit, and we were free again.

In the middle of all of the stress of the pregnancy, and being told she had a deadly virus, she kept a sense of humour… there were also moments of frustration and burning hate for all things medical, but there was a sense of humour in there as well. Which is one of many reasons why I love her.

The camera is set on its 10-second timer, and balanced on a tiny Kleenex box on her tray… I wonder why no one holds Robert Stroud responsible for the introduction of bird flu into the world.