I got the H1N1 flu shot earlier this week. Why? Well, I’m a Type 2 Diabetic, so according to our protocol, I’m up near the head of the line in people who really, really should get the vaccine. I’m fairly confident in the entire vaccine process and have a modicum of faith in the due diligence done by the government and the medical communities in creating as good a vaccine as humans can create.
Yes, the vaccine has an adjuvant and yes, it also contains thiomersal (which is also spelled thimerosal) which is a necessary antiseptic and anti-fungal in multi-dose vaccine preparations. Until only recently, contact lens solutions also contained thiomersal. Plus, I like tuna, especially fresh tuna, which also contains mercury, the controversial ingredient in thiomersal.
We all know that mercury is not good in people, either ingested, or injected, but thiomersal is at an excruciatingly small parts per billion, so it’s a risk, but a controlled risk, like all vaccines are when you strip out the hysteria. Also, I’m not a child, I’m not pregnant and I have no plans to become pregnant, so at worst, it’s bad, but not as bad as smokin’ drinkin’ and all the drug-suckin’ I did back in the day.
The lineup to get the wristband was just over one hour. Volunteers kept us moving and made sure we knew how things were progressing. In Ottawa the deal works like this: You self identify as being in a priority group, then get a single-use paper wristband (think hospital kind of wristband) to put on. You go away until later in the day and come back at the time they have told you to show up. I got tagged at 9 am and was told my likely time was 5 pm. At 5, we showed up with our paperwork (about five pages we had to fill out, essentially a “how ya doin’?” kind of questionnaire) and two minutes later was seated in front of a nurse who jabbed us. Deed done.
There are always going to be horror stories about people waiting for hours in a blizzard on the side of a hill, next to a smelter, waiting to be told there’s none left so piss off and come back tomorrow.
There will also be stories of some innocent who gets the H1N1 injection, then unexplainably goes on a five-day tequila bender, winding up in Cape Breton wearing a cowboy hat, no pants and has a shirt pocket full of Turkish money. Then a video will turn up on YouTube and some lawyer will sue everyone on behalf of the innocent, who will feel much better with the topical application of $20 million dollars.
Realistically, I’m taking a controlled risk. The same hold true for the prescription for Tamiflu (Oseltamivir) that the employer was gracious enough to make available and pay for, via our health plan. Yes, the employer had a doc on site to answer all of our questions not just about Tamiflu, but the H1N1 influenza and vaccines in general. The doc took as long as we wanted and before actually writing each individual prescription made sure we had as much time as we wanted to ask any further questions one on one. There was no pressure in any way shape or form.
Which, in summary, is again a controlled risk. If I do get the H1N1 flu, I have at least a half a shot at reducing the effects of it and a half a shot at not winding up in hospital on a ventilator waiting to die.
Is the whole mass-vaccination system perfect? Oh hell no.
Is it our best effort with the best possible motivations of protecting the vast majority of people? Yes, it is.
That’s about all we can hope for. Reasonably prudent and best efforts.
RoadDave 