(Speaking of, What's your Vector, Victor?)

Picking off / out the first snufflers where they congregate - home, school, wherever an adult notices onset. Then dispatching said Typhoid Toms {no, not That 'dispatch'} to some local gaily decorated tent, room, repository - where adults with clown-decorated face masks administer the Wonder Drugs: chicken soup + TLC.

There! formerly multi-infected families of folks, once kept off the treadmill to the corner office for days n'days: get to keep climbing. Other chilluns get to keep playing, learning, pulling wings off flies (or building model airplanes to hunt Terrierists - to cover all our members.)

I know. I know. It's all just too complexificated. What would Jerry Foulwell do?
Nevermind.