"Bittersweet" does not quite capture the breadth of feeling. It was vaguely synchronistic. Yes, it was sad. Yes, it validated my perspective and made me feel a little bit proud. It is hard for me to explain the significance of the meeting and I might fall short in that effort. I found a new friend and the friendship lasted about an hour.
This writer does not ordinarily use his real name. I have not taken any measures to conceal my identity and a sleuth could reveal everything about me in seconds. It's not the sleuth that worries me. The nosy neighbor or the office politician is more concerning. In this story, I want to protect the identity of the Health Care Professional, hereafter referred to as HCP. We don't want to cause problems with HCP's coworkers or peers or superiors or subordinates or regulators. In protecting the identity of HCP, I am assigning the pronoun they and I have delayed telling this story so that Alice Kravitz will not be able to pinpoint the day in question.
Let me briefly restate my recent history. In December 2021 I was terminated from a job I held for thirteen years because I resisted my employer's vaccination mandate. Prior to COVID, I was not a vax refusenik. I believed that vaccinations, like antibiotics and chlorinated drinking water, were twentieth-century marvels. Then we were hit with the Coronavirus. Every facet--every minute detail of that narrative--was bogus. It was presented by the Consensus Media with enhanced consensus.
I played along with the herd, standing six feet from humanity and constantly wearing a snot rag on my face. Being a homebody, I did not necessarily feel inconvenienced by the shelter-in-place orders. Working on the fringes of health care I was deemed an essential employee which meant that I could legally drive through the empty streets with a sense of ownership I had not known since the days following the Marathon bombing. In some ways, COVID was even better than April 2013 because the police, possibly reluctant to don mask and glove and exchange paper with a doomsday vector, allowed the scarce driver to move as fast as he pleased.
Historians might refer to this era as the golden age of horseshit. Lie stacked upon lie, stacked upon lie. Dissidents would be silenced. Heretics would be canceled. Doctors with sterling resumes would have their practices threatened. Careers would be wrecked. Businesses would close. Surfers would be jailed. Churches would be regulated in seating and singing and parking and handshaking. It wasn't the worst of times but it sure as shit wasn't the best of times either.
I declined the mandated vax. I lost my job. I landed on my feet. I paid a lawyer and was able to recover my unemployment benefits. I would continue to see healthcare professionals (HCP's). One appointment stands out.
HCP started the conversation by telling me how much they respected me for rejecting the COVID vaccination. HCP then informed me that they had enjoyed a lifetime of good health but that changed immediately after they received their prophylactic regimen.
Here I have to explain that I used to work as a mental health counselor. For reasons that I partly understand and partly do not comprehend, people find me "approachable". Even away from the workplace, people sometimes share more information than I would expect them to.
HCP provided a lot of personal health data and I can usually hold my own in shallow medical conversation. What I can tell you is that HCP was hit with multiple, possibly unrelated, health problems, some more serious than others. HCP is enduring a life-threatening complication. The prognosis is grim.
HCP ignored some professional standards by sharing this information with a patient. That does not bother me. I am honored that HCP would treat me as an equal. Under different circumstances, HCP's behavior might be viewed as inappropriate. Under these circumstances, I regard HCP's advice and support as noble and brave and a display of the heights of healthcare delivery.
HCP would enter into the record that they had advised me to get jabbed repeatedly, but privately HCP confirmed the wisdom of my decision. The focus of the visit returned to the patient and I can say that HCP performed to the standard. The ice had been broken and I was unusually quick to reveal details about myself I might have otherwise abbreviated. We also discussed my own recent losses and concerns for my loved ones' emotional welfare, topics I always avoid.
We managed to discuss death and dying in an unusually relaxed and candid way. Not just mortal coil kinds of stuff but burial plot prices, tombstone prices, logistics...totally unexpected topics. When you share secrets, especially secrets regarding mortality, a bond can form. Instant friendship. Instantly old friends. HCP even ragged on me about inflating my current job title, something only an old friend or relative might do. It did not seem out of place.
I cannot tell you how often I have reflected on this meeting. The breadth and depth of feelings are difficult to summarize. Yes, I like to be right. Yes, I love to be right and I like confirmation that I am right, but on matters related to the vax, I want to be wrong! Tin foil hat kind of wrong, Flat Earth kind of wrong. NESARA/GESARA kind of wrong. My friends and relatives who got Pfizered or Modernaed outnumber the refuseniks by a factor of at least 20 to 1. Sometimes it sucks to be right.
I never again saw my instant friend, one of the best allies, colleagues, cohorts, and, buddies I have ever known. Health care professionals are stalked more frequently than most people and I would not want to set off any alarms. Also, private contact with a patient can land the HCP in trouble. I am concerned about HCP's welfare but frankly, it is none of my business.
I seem to have a talent for recruiting or attracting stellar treaters. This interaction was special. In an era when we can't trust most doctors anymore, HCP boldly delivered truth and candor. For that, I shall be forever grateful.
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