When The Cure for the Disease is a Disease

I had covid at least once. It was three very uncomfortable days, followed by more than twice that waiting for the test to say I didn't have it. There were the typical flu symptoms with some very impressive body aches and a hot-cold fever-chill cycle that could rival many a viral challenger. 

It was long enough ago that people were still embracing policies that ignored age-old truths (like no asymptomatic spread), so my recovery was spent waiting for a test - that was never designed to do that which it was being asked - to arrive at a negative result.

At the time, it didn't occur to me to lie, but that would have saved me weeks' worth of vacation days I'd had—at least in my mind—set aside for something else.

That was in May of 2021, and COVID never darkened my door again, probably because I was - to use the popular political term - an anti-vaxxer. Not alleged, even though I had many an actual vaccine in my life while having never considered a few I’d not needed (for Cholera, Typhoid, or Yellow Fever).

The absence of the mystical warp speed, emergency use, and no human test-trials serum in my veins was a matter of great concern (not to me), and I bring it up because for the first time since it all started, I had an office visit with a healthcare professional, and they didn't ask.

No one asked if I'd gotten it, wanted it, or anything about it. And I almost didn't notice. Previous journeys into the white-coated jungle of managed care included multiple salesmen for big pharma moonlighting as nurses, clerical staff, or physician's assistants inquiring about my status—lobbyists for an increasingly partisan political position that was not just dividing but separating people from workspaces and families.

I once wore my limited edition Z28.310 Hat to an appointment with my Gastroenterologist. That’s the diagnostic medical code for someone who is “unvaccinated,” as in no COVID shots.

There were a few looks but no comments unless “Do you have a vaccine card you'd like to copy into your record?” counts.

“Have you had a flu or COVID shot, and are you interested in getting that today? 

No.

But a mint would be nice (for you). Did you eat a clove of garlic for lunch?

Drones

I'm no dummy. I know the Hospitals that own their professional hides require them to ask as a condition of employment and that they are not all excited about the repeated queries. There was money to be made in those days, and much like asking someone if they'd like fries or an apple pie with their Big Mac (circa 1970s/1980s) or an extended warranty on your electronic purchase pitch becomes a habit. It is just another thing you do autonomously without much consideration for whys, ifs, or shoulds.

Much of that is behind us unless you are one of the many lucky contestants in the post-COVID side effects sweepstakes who has what they call Long COVID. I won't lie. Every time I hear those two words together, I picture some waifish, puffy-lipped, not-quite-white model in soft focus in the Lancôme Style (The French luxury perfume and cosmetic house). She's holding an oversized bottle of brassy-looking liquid with the stylized words LONGCOVID on it. The bottle has hypodermics embossed on a brushed silver label edged in gold leaf.

If you make it fashionable, maybe people will feel better about having it even though a lot of people seem to have it. Like a fad, but you can’t just drop it.