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They always told us the vaccines that we were required to have every year were essential for our own safety. What if there was one that didn't work? What if the shots actually made you worse, not better? What if they were the real cause of all the horrible diseases that were in the news all the time? We were told that the vaccines stopped almost all of them, taught us how to mask our own symptoms as much as possible, and forgiven us for feeling sick without the hours in bed that they provided. No one was to be informed when we were receiving our yearly shots because the need for secrecy was that great. No one was to question what it was doing to the people receiving it.
Some of my friends had had some nasty reactions to their shots. They found themselves with eternal fatigue and hallucinations for days on end. I heard about it as much as I could, and had started to believe that what I experienced was normal. I managed, with their help, to get to the point where I could survive the symptoms and get my day more or less on track. But what if I have contracted something fatal?
The thought was eating at me. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe they weren't the terrible things that they made us feel like they were. I thought that it was odd that something like this wasn't being investigated. I would find myself waiting to be called in for an appointment to show I was still okay with the shots, in the hopes that they wouldn't notice the fever and think I was fine. I had dreamed about finding a cure for all this for a long time.
There had to be something beneficial about these vaccines. What if I could find out?
I was careful not to talk to anyone who dared to remind me that maybe my illness was something else altogether. I kept everyone away from me as much as I could, but there wasn't nearly enough of the stuff to give everyone immunity from all of their sicknesses, so everyone kept coming over. I had to do something to try and find the cause of this.
I couldn't tell anyone, of course, and I couldn't say anything out loud; there were tips around every corner, watching to make sure that we didn't tell someone what we were doing. We were told to take anything we were thinking of saying with us when we left if we didn't like the way it was going. The consequences were drastic enough that we should be lucky to just be sent away. I kept my mouth shut, but it didn't mean that my thoughts were.
This diary had become my life. It knew everything I wanted to ask, everything that I had wanted to talk to so many people about. This way, at least, no one would see the words and the things I was talking about would stay hidden. The pages had become worn, but I read and reread them often.
I had a longer list of the problems that I was having with myself than I had a solution for. I knew that everyone else was having the same kinds of problems, but that didn't make mine any more bearable. I wasn't trying to make myself feel better. I wasn't even trying to leave out the words that would be detailing why my ideas were stupid. I was trying to use them to work things out. At least that's what I told myself.
I knew that they would see what I had written eventually. I didn't want anyone to think that I was nuts.
I wasn't willing to overlook the fact that someone was trying to kill us all just because it was in their best interests to keep us sick.
I turned twenty-three that year.
I felt sick, every minute.
I knew that there was more to this story than I could find out at the pharmacy, and I felt I was at the end of my rope. It was the story that I needed to know, but no one would tell me.
We'd all been trained as doctors, just in case we needed something that someone else didn't have. I knew that I would be able to help myself if I she were able to find out what was going on. I kept my vaccine with me, in case there was someone around who seemed as sick as I did. I could help them out if they needed it, but what if they were in the same boat as me? Then I would be doing less harm than good.
It was a hard decision, but I decided to find myself someone who didn't seem to be getting better. I would spend my time trying to find out the reason that I was so terrible to myself, trying to find the cure that I knew was there. I only had to find out which vaccination was the one causing me so much trouble.
I didn't want to make a big decision like this a few days into the conversation. I just wanted to sound him out slowly and sort myself out and talk more. I didn't want to make it sound as though I was in any more trouble than I really was.
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