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THE EARLY BIRD ALWAYS
GETS THE WORM |
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I was making a list at the kitchen table the other day, and
checking it twice. It wasn't going to Santa, though, it was going to my
doctor. My wife walked in just as I was finishing.
"Whatcha doin'?" she innocently asked.
"Well, with the Pfizer vaccine rolling out this week, I
thought it would be wise to make a list for my doctor of why I should get
vaccinated before most people. It's going to be a rat race out
there."
Her reaction was pretty much what I expected. "That's
rather selfish of you."
"Everybody else is doing it," I argued. "Just
today the teacher's union came out and said they should be next in line
after health care workers. I don't want to get shoved too far down the
line."
She rolled her eyes in that manner that is all too familiar
to me. "What could possibly be on your list?" she asked.
I knew she'd want to know. I couldn't wait to show her and the rest
of the world how needy I was, so I handed her the list.
"Hmm. Over 65, that makes sense," she said, quickly
scanning my reasons, moving to #2. "But I wouldn't call you 'obese.'
You're only eight pounds overweight."
"It's called marketing," I proudly replied.
"Just calling myself a little overweight won't cut it. I have to be
aggressive here."
There went the eyes again. "Atrial fibrillation?"
she asked. "You had that procedure 10 years ago and it cured your
irregular heartbeat."
"It can always come back!" I cried, amazed at her
lack of sympathy. "I'm a walking timebomb!"
She crumpled the paper in her hands and threw it in the air.
She didn't want to see numbers 4-10, which mostly referred to joint pain
and hair loss.
"There are people with serious underlying conditions that
deserve the vaccine long before you," she said. "You'll just
have to wait your turn."
I was amazed that she would think I'm THAT selfish. "I
would never jump in front of more deserving people," I proudly said.
"I just want to make sure I get some of the good stuff before it runs
out."
She couldn't help herself. "I'm sure I'll regret this,
but please explain."
"It's simple," I began. "Let me put it this
way. Pfizer is clearly the McDonald's of COVID-19 vaccines, and Moderna is
the Burger King. But there's at least another 24 going through human
trials right now, and maybe 150 in development. If I'm not assertive, and
Pfizer and Moderna can't keep up with the demand, I could end up with the
Dairy Queen of vaccines."
"I see your point," she replied, although I'm
pretty sure she didn't approve. "You want the tried and proven
vaccine, instead of some upstart."
"Exactly! Pretty soon we'll be inundated with
advertisements on the evening news from small competitors claiming to be
the best and safest vaccine. I won't have to deal with it, because I'll be
innoculated."
She nodded slowly. "What about me?" she asked.
"Are you going to just leave me behind?"
"Of course not," I replied, aghast that she could think I was
that insensitive. "The problem is that you are not even slightly
overweight and have absolutely no health issues."
I could see she was crestfallen, realizing that she'd be far down
the line of recipients for Pfizer or Moderna vaccines. I told her she'd
get something, sooner or later. It might be the Sputnik V vaccine from
Russia, but that's probably better than nothing. And it's got a great
name.
"Look at the bright side," I said as she slowly got
over my suggestion of the Russian vaccine. "Once I'm vaccinated,
you'll be comforted by knowing the love of your life is safe from this
horrendous disease. I'm sure that will make your wait a lot easier."
As expected, she pulled out a pen and paper and began making
a list for her doctor. I peered over her shoulder and saw her first entry.
I'm not sure "homicidal instincts" is a reason to move up the
ladder, but it's worth a try.
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