I got the H1N1 shot today. DePaul had vaccines available for at-risk individuals, and since my right lung is a whoopee cushion and my left lung is a broken toy accordion, I qualify as at-risk.

I stopped by today, and outside the doors of the fitness center stood two men with clipboards. One man asked me if I was getting the vaccine today.
“Yes.”
“Do you mind if I talk to you a minute about your decision?”
I figured he was taking a poll. On a university campus, there are always people taking polls or surveys for one class or another. I’m sympathetic because I would hate to have a task where I have to talk to strangers for any period of time. So, I said sure. Talk to me.

“Why did you decide to get this vaccine today?”
I explained my reasons, and that in my opinion, the dangers I face if I get a respiratory infection are greater than the risk of complications from the flu vaccine.

Ooh, wrong answer. Didn’t I find it curious that usually, pregnant women and the elderly are advised against receiving the vaccine, but this year they are encouraged? (Actually, my memory is that usually, elderly people are allowed priority for all flu shots.)

Why, he asked me, would we throw away 40,000 years of medical wisdom just because drug companies and a corrupt government want to convince us to buy more vaccines? (Actually, anything that medical science did 40,000 years ago is NOT something I want done to me now. Please, no trepannations. I like my demons just fine.)

He went on to ask me, very sincerely, how I could be so willing to take a vaccine when Bobby Kennedy has proven that vaccines cause autism? And by the time he got to the London Train bombings being a government conspiracy, and how the same people who perpetrated the myth of 9/11 are the people who got Barack Obama elected, I knew one thing for sure:

Getting the H1N1 vaccine is the sanest choice I have ever made.

But, if you want to read more crazy, check out www.theflucase.com (which can double as a Halloween scare. Because it’s further proof that there’s more cuckoo out in the world than you’d find in a Swiss clock factory.)