Muhammad Naeem | Contributor
My brother was recently hospitalized for something or other. He and I live only a mile away from each other, but we never really see each other unless there is some sort of emergency. Well, his being hospitalized would definitely constitute an emergency and thus it required that I go see him. He was under observation, and I figured a leisurely visit was in order. When I got to the local hospital—you know which one I am talking about, I mean, there is only one—the security would not let me go see him. They wanted me to show them my vaccine card. I can understand their requirement to wear a mask, just to be safe. I saw all of their medical staff wearing masks, even though most of them were wearing them on their chins like a beard, instead of covering their noses and mouths. That showed me how seriously they took this requirement. But a vaccine card! I didn’t know we were still doing this [s-word].
Needless to say, I don’t have a vaccine card, because I have not been vaccinated for COVID. “My body, my choice”—hehehe—as I repurposed that slogan. I was very disappointed, and I didn’t want to leave without saying something. I said, “You know, these vaccines don’t even work.” The collective gasp from all those within earshot must have been heard all around the world. A hushed silence blanketed the area around me. It was so thick one could cut it with a knife. People turned around to take a look at this infidel, who dared challenge the status quo.
One young intern, or something, took the bait and engaged me. He said, “Yes, they do work. They save lives.” I was ready. I replied, “If they do work, then why are we on the ninety-seventh booster shot. I mean, vaccine is supposed to be taken only once and our immune system remembers the information about the invader and fights it off on next infection. Why are we taking booster after booster after booster, which may not even boost anything, and for all we know, may very well even be a new vaccine? We are basically guinea pigs for these pharmaceutical companies, and they will keep boosting us until the judgement day.” Young intern then retorted, “Well, you need booster shots because vaccines lose their efficacy after a few months.” I continued my attack, “They lose their efficacy because they are not real vaccines. They are fake. I had my childhood vaccines, now those are real vaccines, and after one thousand and one years, they are still working, and keeping me safe.
There was no response from anyone. The young intern was busy in thought. I then delivered the final blow, “Why is it, that CDC data shows that COVID is no longer the pandemic of the unvaccinated? Why are more vaccinated people dying from it than unvaccinated?” Someone tried to answer, “Well, more people are now vaccinated. That’s why more deaths are attributed to vaccinated people.” I replied, “That means, statistically, vaccines have no effect. Go back to your basic math.” A senior doctor knew how to shut me up. He signaled the security personnel, and they threw me out of the hospital.
Two things were for sure: One, I needed a vaccine card to see my brother, and two, I did not want to be vaccinated. The only alternative I had was to get a fake vaccine card. As we all know, the Internet provides anything we need, so I found a lot of suppliers that would provide me
with an “authentic” card. Just to be ironic, I picked one from Wuhan. My card was here within days, and it looked pretty good to me. I didn’t have to Photoshop any logos or signatures, or find matching paper, or to have my printer friend print me an exact replica. It was ready to go the minute I received it.
I was ready to visit my brother in the hospital and this time, nothing and no one would stop me. It turned out, they had shifted him to a hospital in Temecula. I arrived at this hospital fully prepared. The security team greeted me, and one of them said, “Can we please….” I reached into my pocket and grabbed the vaccine card before he even finished his sentence. As I extended my arm to hand it to him, he finished his sentence, “…see an ID.” I was confused. “Wait, what?! Don’t you want to see my vaccine card?” He smiled at me and said, “Oh, no. That’s not necessary. We don’t require that.” He didn’t even have a mask on.
As you can see, I was justifiably flabbergasted. As I made my way to the room where my brother was, I couldn’t help but feel upset that I was never going to get those ten dollars (plus shipping) back that I had spent, that I didn’t need to spend. I mean, my brother is okay. They did some procedure on him and got everything straightened out. But who cares?! He didn’t have to go through all that hassle that I had to go through.
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