Last week I got my first dose of the Moderna COVID vaccine. I’m not yet 55 years old and I’m about as unessential as folks get, but I did have one of the health conditions that allowed me to get a shot — a condition my doctor refers to as “How are you still alive?” The official medical term for my condition, in Latin, is Nowayustillalivicus.
It took a few calls before I found someone on the list of vaccination sites who actually had, you know, a vaccine. Fortunately, the Houston County Health Department came through and was very helpful. Their vaccination site was a well-oiled machine, everyone was nice, and I was able to get my shot without even getting out of my truck. I truly can’t say enough about how professional their operation is.
I’d heard that folks who’d actually suffered through a bout of COVID were more likely to feel the effects of the vaccine, and, sure enough, the ensuing night and morning I felt like I had a bad cold, and, of course, the injection site on my left arm hurt anytime I touched it. So, naturally, I kept touching it. “Ouch! Yep, still hurts.”
The real issue, though, is the microchip that Bill Gates had installed in the vaccines so that he can control our minds and the world’s population — which, let’s face it, is a bit too high at the moment. I’m not too worried about the mind control thing. Look, I’ve been inside my mind for a half-century, and it’s a scary place. Even Darth Gates doesn’t want to go there.
Much to my chagrin, I’m way too familiar with Microsoft products — kinda like I’m familiar with gnats and mosquitoes. As someone who is familiar with the annoying Microsoft world, I was worried that this microchip might have some complications. However, there have been no major issues so far. There is only one minor issue — our microwave now starts up anytime I sneeze, but that’s offset by the convenience of now being able to wink at my laptop anytime I want to print something. I’m calling it a draw.
I’ve seen a lot of folks share things on Facebook — that vast repository of undeniable facts — about how they won’t get the vaccine because of the mind-controlling microchip, because it’s the “mark of the beast” and/or because they’ve seen an unsourced meme about how many people the vaccines have killed (numbers significantly higher than the CDC-reported number of zero). Their unwillingness to get vaccinated certainly puts a crimp in the whole herd immunity plan.
I’ll admit there’s a lot I don’t know about COVID. The disease is less than a year and a half old, so there’s only so much anyone can know. So, I had to make a choice: Do I side with the scientists or do I side with the folks who think seas are not rising, that Antifa stormed the Capitol while pretending to be Trump supporters, that Hillary Clinton eats babies and that Jewish space lasers are to blame for California wildfires? The latter group of folks seems to have a track record of believing baloney and seem to be less likely to want the vaccine. That’s a tough call, but I think I’m gonna side with Dr. Medicine over Crazy Uncle Joe.
So what do we do with the science deniers and conspiracy believers? I’d hate for anything to happen to them if they don’t get the shots, but the rest of us have got to move on. By this summer, everyone who wants a vaccine should have been able to get one. If folks are still trying to get the vaccine but are having trouble getting it, we’ll wait for them. But if folks refuse to get the vaccine, so be it. The rest of us are ready to move on. Y’all can stay behind and chat with your peers about the microchip and how the moon landing was staged in the Arizona desert.
I just have one request: If folks who refuse the vaccine later come down with COVID, the bill is on them. Yes, you have the freedom to not get the vaccine. You also have the freedom to enjoy a $250,000 hospital bill. My case of COVID was traced back to someone who demanded the freedom to not wear masks or practice sensible, minor pandemic precautions. So, yeah, I lack sympathy for those who demand freedom of choice but later want freedom from that choice’s repercussions.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a hankering for a snack.
“AHH-CHOO, popcorn setting!”