MEDIUM RARE

After feeding me a full meal — salad, noodle soup, chicken, dessert — my children led me, meek as a lamb about to be sacrificed on the altar, to the deepest section of the drugstore where a nurse was waiting for patients.

The nurse was in a jumpsuit in two shades of blue, looking more like a pilot in training. She asked me only two questions. Any allergies? Are you on medication? Before I knew it, I had rolled up my left sleeve — she was administering the anti-flu shot on my upper arm.

Painless, not even a sting, and the whole procedure was over in seconds! It had cost my children ₱999 minus a 25 percent discount for senior citizens. Not only was the nurse superefficient, she wasted no time in advising me to take a paracetamol or use a cold compress in the event that I would develop a fever.

No, I did not. But the procedure reminded me of the Covid-19 pandemic when everyone in their right mind had to submit themselves to the vaccine that required two booster shots over a period of time. This time, with the flu as a merely seasonal inconvenience, one shot without a followup is all that’s required.

The question is, why so expensive? If millions will take the shot, would the demand raise or lower the cost of the drug?  Thing is, better to spend ₱999 and flee the flu than be caught and having to pay the price: fever, sneezing, running nose, sleeplessness, infecting people at home, at work, in public places such as malls, etc.

In the meantime, would it be wise to go back to wearing a face mask in public, like we used to in 2020 until 2023? There are other safeguards. Don’t stop taking your vitamin C. Don’t get wet in the rain. Listen to the weather report and take your cue. It is the season of the “habagat” (monsoon rains) as meteorologists call it.

Me, I love the sight of people running under the shelter of their umbrellas. As Tony Bennett’s song goes, “Out of doorways black umbrellas came to pursue me... faceless people as they passed were looking through me, no one knew me...”