Unearned Consequences

Sometimes you just can’t win. I remember long ago when I was in the Navy. We had just completed a port call in Yokosuka, Japan. Its duration was two weeks but the first day we pulled out I saw this real long line of sailors on the hanger deck. I learned that the USS Lexington crew (1,100 of them) was the worse infected crew in the 7 ^th fleet. That long line of sailors were waiting for medical attention for their recently caught VD. I went up to my workstation and learned all about it. Not any of my guys were infected. In fact, it was all on the deck divisions and some of our so called “air dales” who had gone ashore and partaken of the shore delights they should have avoided.

I soon learned that our skipper was absolutely in a rage over this unwanted epidemic of gonorrhea and a few other infections that makes you say “ouch” just to think of it. Well, the infected crew members were grounded (of course) for our next port call. No leaves or liberties at all. Also, they were informed that this was a blemish on their performance reports. Some of our ship’s operations for the next few days were either scrubbed or trimmed back. Too many sick sailors.

So how, you might ask, did this affect the crew that was uninfected. You know, the guys that followed instructions— such as we that were warned to stay away from these “delights” since you were almost for sure going to get the VD. Well, you guessed it. We all had our leaves curtailed, too. No more shore leaves on our next stop. But wait. The guys who earned punishment weren’t going ashore anyway. So we were all punished alike for the “sins” of a few.

Last week I wrote about vaccinations and to the point, about the polio vaccine. We, the children of the 40s, had been through a lot of worry, anxiety and what we considered hardships trying to avoid this dread killer disease. And if Polio didn’t kill you dead it was pretty sure to leave you with a big limp. You may remember my little buddy in the story last week about a boy named Billy who died overnight of this virus. When Billy didn’t show up for our daily activity I rode down to his grandma’s house and sure enough, when asked about where he was a family member of Billy’s told me to come in.

She led me through the little house to a bedroom. Yes, there in the center of the bed my pal was laid out in a perfectly made bed. The pillows were white and so were the sheets. Billy’s pale face was punctuated by his freckles and red hair. And he was dead. I don’t think I had ever seen a dead kid before. I retreated and went home but by the time I got there I had recovered and was pretty proud of myself. I had hardly started my summer day and now I had big news to share with my family.

“What do you mean, you went into the house?” My sister Sue was almost wild as I boasted of my news. “Do you realize how contagious that is?” My mom arrived and listened. She was almost ill at the news of my “stupidity.” I was then castigated by my dad and older brother, who already knew that I was stupid and my mom told me to get to the bathroom. It was the same tone that parents use as they prepare to beat you half to death with a big belt. In the bathroom mom ran a big tub of hot water, added Clorox, Lysol and who knows what else. She made me undress and plunge in. I don’t know for sure, but she may have burned my clothes. I barely survived my punishing bath but could have used the services of a proctologist that day. Clorox (or was it the Lysol?) is really toxic to some of your body’s orifices. Much to my family’s surprise and Sue’s disappointment, I did not catch polio. Not even a mild case. But my sister Sue had a hard time putting it behind her. I think she is still a little bit mad about it. And that was 77 years ago.

All this to say, maybe we should be more like Sue as we face up to this Covid epidemic. Not be so tolerant. Get your shots. Hope your week is good and healthy. Be sure and go to church next Sunday

Wayne Bullard, DPh

cwaynebullard@gmail.com