“Wisdom begins with wonder,” so said Athenian Socrates, who is credited as the first moral philosopher of the Western ethical tradition of thought.
Nice one, Soc. Now, may we please start wondering and hoping to be a bit wiser?
*****
Did we ever wonder why, about half a decade or so ago, our parents were at ease and quick to sign any consent form that sought to have their child vaccinated?
My first shot in the arm? It came when I was a third grader in a Philippine school run by Franciscan friars. (You know, the ones in brown robes with a hoodie?)
Having collected the consent papers, Ms. Teacher ceased all classroom fun and learning. She muttered something like an “evacuate then vaccinate” whatever, asked us to form a line at arms-length and led us marching quietly to the school clinic.
The class obeyed without any qualm or whimper. We were children. Any lull in school work was welcome. We were going out of the room and perhaps on our way to the playground. Who knew? Maybe the electronic bell malfunctioned and that it was our time to enjoy a longer Recess.
Upon reaching the clinic’s door, the queue halted. One by one, Ms. Teacher escorted her pupils in and out the clinic. The mix of tears, turns and twists in the faces of those who exited the clinic was enough to make everyone in the line raise unfounded fears and feel a little jittery. Something suspiciously awry was going on inside. A classmate sent hand signals. His message was clear, I just smiled.
Soon, it was my turn to step in and face the amiable and beautiful Ms. Ybanez, the school nurse. (Days earlier, I had a bad headache. She gave me a Cortal tablet. I made it to the final bell.) Ms. Ybanez told me to sit. She nudged the sleeve of my school uniform up a bit. She calmly reassured: “Don’t worry. It’s just an ant bite.”
At this stage, there was nothing more that I could do. I feigned bravery and stared at the needle. Ms. Ybanez said: “Better look the other way.” Before I could do a bobblehead, the needle was in my arm. So was the vaccine. The inoculation was swift. So, that was it? And all I got was a small cotton ball!
Laugh Out Loud! That was exactly what I did as I walked out, while recalling a classmate’s earlier hand signals – an index finger poking a palm. That was it!
*****
So, my parents were very wise to follow public health measures and to fulfill a civic duty when they agreed to sign me up to march bravely up an imaginary ant hill and get a cotton ball for a prize. Of course, such an act effectively prevented some kind of communicable disease from making me sick. I got it. But why then did I wonder why I preferred a wisdom tooth extraction in exchange for a Sunta orange and hopiang monggo?
So, my parents had the nerve to conspire with Ms. Teacher and Ms. Ybanez and who-knows-who-else to carry out an injection without any ruckus. I got it. But how I wondered why I returned home with a brown bag containing my baon of six pandesal slices spread with sugar and Star Margarine.
So, I owe a debt of gratitude to everyone who managed the needle. Yes, they were the ones who provided me a shield against illness. They were the ones who moved me to fulfill my dreams and walk my path. They were the ones who made me go, grow and glow at 67 years old today. I got it. But I wonder if they knew — in their love, kindness, humility and silence — that they had accomplished so much for me and many others.
So, did you ever wonder why this paragraph and three others above began with a so?
*****
At the dinner table, I narrated the vaccination experience. Feeling awkward, I passed the part on hand signals.
One thing about the antidote anecdote, though, sparked some interest from my brother, Dennis.
Keloid, bow! A raised, shiny and smooth mound over the spot injected with the vaccine is rather unsightly on many an arm. Will it come and stay? A harmless, cosmetic keloid would be possible.
Excuse me. Dennis dismissed the science. He was referring to distant kin Uncle Lloyd, who handed out his pasalubong of Serg bars, Goya goodies, Ricoa flat tops and Choc Nut whenever he came for a visit.
Whether or not he also alluded to the mound relative to a pitcher or a sermon, I have no idea.
*****
Have we ever wondered why adults, many years ago, were wise enough to spare precious time to willingly go to private clinics and public health stations to get inoculated?
“To,” as a word, flashed four times in the preceding statement. Did we ever wonder why actively moving forward – in thought and in deeds, from process to process, from point to point – would be good and beneficial to our health?
*****
Have we ever wondered why our elders kept mum about the economics and politics of it all — supply and demand, funding and spending, ramp ups and roll outs, etc., etc., etc.?
They were in a different time and different circumstances. A line in the song “Jesus Christ, Superstar” from the rock opera of the same title simply tells it all: “If You’ve come today You would have reached the whole nation. Israel in 4 B.C. had no mass communication.”
But don’t you get me wrong. Happy times were when folks did not have the luxury of today’s digital and virtual age. Not one of them had a problem with fake news, mixed messaging and misinformation.
Those were the great moments when the world had “heard immunity.”
Socrates added: True knowledge exists in knowing that you know nothing.
Jurassic the notion might have been; but being the loving and respectful cave alpha was all it took for families and peoples to stick to each other and to work together for a common cause – specie empowerment.
I wonder how syringes and vaccines would impact on dinosaurs.
*****
Did we even wonder why past generations never asked anything as wild as “What pharmaceutical company is making a killing out of vaccines?” and “Who are the politicians and their friends making a killing out of vaccine manufacturers?” and “Will snow come back?”
Last time I checked out Mr. Google, a vaccine was described as a substance used to stimulate the production of antibodies and provide immunity against one or several diseases, prepared from the causative agent of a disease, its products, or a synthetic substitute, treated to act as an antigen without inducing the disease.
Through the years, vaccines were made, successfully blocking off the incidence of chickenpox, influenza, measles, mumps, polio, rabies, smallpox, tetanus, tuberculosis, typhoid fever, yellow fevers and many more.
By all definitions, a vaccine was for the benefit of humanity.
Old folks trusted the medicine, no matter who made it and from where it came. Branding and bragging rights did not count. Without doubt and with full confidence, they took it.
It worked.
*****
Dr. Eileen de Villa, Toronto’s Medical Officer of Health, minced no words when she faced the cameras and respectfully advised: “The best vaccine is the one in your arm.”
Aside, the doc’s repartee reminded me of oft-quoted personalities and my favourite humorist Sam Levenson who all agreed that “if you need a helping hand, you’ll find it at the end of your arm.”
Rephrase: “Go to a vaccination centre. There, helping hands will get the best vaccine in your arm.”
*****
Get vac! Get vac!
My apologies to the Beatles. No harm or misrepresentation is intended with the rewording of your hit song “Get Back,” a favourite to this day since the Fab Four recorded it in 1969.
In the context of pre-Coronavirus days, get vac and get back to where we once had been.
Could we then wonder if the simple life of yore might be the means to put the pandemic present to rest?
*****
After wondering and after all have been said and done, have we become any wiser? #####
CAPTION:
Wonderful Shot! A respectful frontliner-nurse got the Covid-19 vaccine in my system early last month, at a community centre in Scarborough. My wife, Evelyn, joined me to bravely face the needle. It was our first Covid-19 vaccine dose, the next one to come very much later. A kind member of the security service in the premises took the photo.
