I was talking to Bill the Google Master. He was sitting on the couch sorting out his medication. He had one pill
for his hypertension, and another pill for his arthritis, and yet another pill for
general hippie purposes. He takes five or six different pills a day to keep him
going.
“You know the flu shot reduces the
chance of cardiac arrest and stroke by forty-seven percent. Have you gotten you
flu shot yet?" he asked me.
“I don’t get flu shots. I don’t
believe in them,” I answered.
“You got to get your flu shot. You
know there’s plaque build up in your arteries, and when you get the flu it
constricts the arteries and thus exacerbates the plaque content relative to the
circumference of the artery.”
“I haven’t had the flu in years.
Forty-seven percent. It sounds too good to be true. Who did the study, a
pharmaceutical company?"
I could see Bill get agitated with the comment. I was being a
smart ass, but I was getting agitated too. I was raised by a healing witch. My
mother could heal anybody with teas and elixirs and a few vitamins. We didn’t go to the doctor
unless it was a near death state of affairs, or stitches, or something that
involved a lot of blood.
It took
me a moment to realize that the man giving me health advice was administering
medication to himself. The scenario did not lend itself to the Google Master’s medical credibility.
