Lost Immunity Daniel Kalla (reading women TXT) 📖

arms. “Why do you think I invited you over, brat?” She plants kisses over her niece’s forehead.

Giggling, Oliva wriggles free of her grip. “I don’t know how to,” she says as she lands on the ground.

“You don’t want to decorate your room, then?” Lisa asks, referring to the condo’s second bedroom.

“I do! I do!”

“Then you better get drawing. We’ll need a lot more pictures for your walls.”

“I’m on it, Tee!” Olivia spins and scurries off for the bedroom, where she left her markers and paper.

Amber motions to the pile. “It’s been three weeks since you moved in, hasn’t it?”

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been kind of busy,” Lisa says.

“That’s the only reason?”

“I’m happy here, Amber. Honestly. Happier than I’ve been in long time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then let’s make it look a bit more permanent.”

“That’s the plan.” Lisa sits down on the rug, reaches for a box, and uses the blade of her scissors to slice through the packing tape.

Amber kneels down beside her and helps remove wrapped objects from inside the open box. She stands a pair of candles up on the coffee table, but her hand freezes when she pulls the paper off a framed photo.

Without looking over, Lisa realizes it must be the photo from the holiday office party, the Christmas before last. In it, Lisa stands at a microphone, shoulder to shoulder with a flushed and beaming Angela, both of them looking more than a little tipsy in their elf hats. The staff gave Angela and Lisa framed copies at last year’s party and insisted on a repeat performance of their doctored version of the holiday classic “Baby, It’s Cold (and Flu Season) Outside.”

Amber stands the frame in the center of the coffee table, glancing over to Lisa, who nods her approval.

“Hey, I read that piece in the Seattle Times about you,” Amber says. “How you single-handedly beat the outbreak and the anti-vaxxers, despite the criminal conspiracy.”

“Not too much sensationalism there,” Lisa groans. “A load of crap, anyway.”

“Why’s that?”

“We haven’t beaten anything. Definitely not this outbreak.”

“It’s not over, then?”

“It’s contained. That’s all.”

“What’s the difference?”

“We haven’t had a new case of meningitis in almost two weeks. That’s good news. No question. But fifty-one dead, Amber? Mainly kids. In less than two months…” Lisa exhales, experiencing a familiar gnawing in the pit of her stomach at the thought. “It can spring back up again, anytime. You can’t declare an outbreak like this over until at least a year has elapsed without a case.”

“What if everyone gets vaccinated?”

“Will never happen. Right now we’re at about sixty percent of the target population. We’d need another twenty-five percent before we reach a level of herd immunity that would protect the public.”

“As long as some people think like that naturopath, you’ll never get everyone on board.”

“Some of them will never be convinced, despite all the science in the world.” Lisa sighs. The thought of Max depresses her. The man isn’t wanting for intelligence, understanding, or even empathy. But he has glommed on to an explanation—flawed as it is—for the unexplainable thing that happened to his son. It wasn’t much different in Fiona’s case. For them, as for others, “vaccine injury” represents the bogeyman they can blame for the random and cruel twists fate foisted on them and their loved ones.

“How about you?” Lisa asks.

“You really need me to say it again?” Amber sighs. “Fine. You were right.”

“No. Not that. Has your overall opinion of vaccines changed?”

Amber thinks for a moment. “Maybe. A little. I still have my concerns, but…”

“Yes?”

“Allen and I are considering getting Olivia the measles shot.”

Lisa can’t fight off her smile. There’s something so validating in her sister’s concession.

“I only said we’re considering it…” Amber emphasizes. “By the way, Mom and Dad read the article, too.”

“They read the Times?”

“No. I emailed it to Mom.”

“And?”

“Mom’s very proud of you.”

“Not Dad, of course.”

“He still thinks you’re dead wrong about the whole vaccine thing.” Amber chuckles. “But he did say that you can count on a Dyer to get the job done.”

Lisa’s grin only grows. She can’t remember the last time she impressed her father, if ever.

“What about you, Lisa?”

“I’m still pretty sold on vaccines,” she says, even though she knows that’s not what her sister is getting at.

“You’re not missing Dom?”

“Sometimes,” Lisa admits. It has been strange to wake up every morning alone in bed. There are times she even misses the low growl of Dominic’s snoring. But the one thing she hasn’t experienced is regret.

“I’m more excited about the next phase of my life.” Lisa laughs self-consciously. “Whatever the hell that is going to bring.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Among the Himalayas of medical controversies, perhaps none looms as large as the debate over the benefits versus the risks of vaccination. In writing Lost Immunity, I realized I was wading into contentious waters. But my aim as a writer has always been to educate while entertaining, to help humanize health crises, and to guide an understanding of the complexities that surround specific disease processes.

Through this novel, I was determined to impart vital information about vaccines, and those who are skeptical of them, from a place of both expertise and compassion. Like most medical doctors, I view vaccination to be among the greatest achievements of modern medicine. I won’t delve into the extensive research on the topic, but science is not on the side of the vaccine hesitancy (or anti-vax) movement. The evidence in favor of vaccines is incontrovertible.

However, traditional science is not what drives anti-vaxxers. There are numerous intelligent, informed, well-meaning people who have a deep aversion to vaccination, especially when it comes to their own children. They’re aware of the rare side effects caused by vaccines. And they tend to rely on association or anecdotal evidence rather than traditional science to support their beliefs. Oftentimes, they connect their own personal tragedies—such as a loved one with autism—back to a vaccination event. Moreover, vaccine hesitancy is a broad umbrella that encompasses a spectrum of heterogenous beliefs, from those who