Krystyna Knypl
CHAPTER 8. FEATHERS AND PLUMES
It was a cloudy November day and everyone was wandering around the lab in a miserable mood. It was supposed to be such a hit, but it turned out to be crap - thought more than one member of the research team. Since
there was nothing special to do, laboratory technician Rita Beorg
decided to do some housework, including going for vaccinations with her
child. She entered Professor Lenton's office to ask for a day off. – Professor, I have to vaccinate my son, can I take the day off next Friday? – she asked. – Yes, yes, of course, take the baby for vaccinations – agreed the professor. – We don't have anything special to do at the moment anyway. What will he have vaccinated? – he said to the girl heading towards the exit. – Combined vaccine, according to the vaccination calendar, without any delays – she replied. – Has he already been vaccinated with Muti Vir-Virr? I remember my younger sister wasn't feeling very well after the vaccination, Lenton said. – Muti Vir-Virr, what is that? I
haven't heard of it, I guess it's not on the mandatory vaccination
schedule now - Rita replied. - Well, I don't follow it either, I just
remembered that something happened to my younger sister after the
vaccination and that's how it stayed in my mind. Moreover, vaccination sets change from time to time. Go to your baby and be well.
Own vision of the creators of a new order in healthcare
After
the lab technician left, the professor asked himself: What happened to
Muti Vir-Virr that we don't hear about him now? Has it fallen out of
circulation or has it been improved and does not kill children after
vaccination? I think I must have been on a scholarship at Panestralia
back then because I have some gap in my memory about it. He entered the
phrase "Muti Vir-Virr" into the search engine. A huge number of links
popped up. Wow, what rich documentation and I know nothing about it! He
opened each page and with each click his eyes got bigger and bigger. And
that's history! The documents showed that a decline was observed just
three years after the introduction of the Muti Vir-Virrem vaccination
incidence of viral infections. Further years only confirmed the
excellent effectiveness of the vaccine against all viral diseases that
have plagued humanity for years. It was a reason for joy, but not for
everyone because the manufacturer of the Muti Vir-Virr vaccine patented
its invention for twenty years. This meant a lean time for all producers
of other vaccines for single viral diseases. This is unacceptable!
Efforts had to be made to return to the old vaccination schedule. After
a few symposia, some reports questioning the effectiveness of Muti
Vir-Virru, a few financial injections for very important people, and
after a few years of presence on the market, the matter was settled.
Muti Vir-Virr was hailed as a dangerous vaccine due to the content of
two heavy metals, and that's the end of the problem. The topic was
sidelined and Muti Vir-Virr was excluded from mandatory vaccinations.
'
This is how patients saw the creators of the new order in healthcare
Have
we checked the impact of vaccinations on TCER polymorphism at all? Wait
a minute, Lenton glanced over the columns of correlated factors. There
was not a single vaccination among the correlated factors, and certainly
Muti Vir-Virr! Well, that's a nice story! We have to start analyzing it
tomorrow, he said. The next day, Professor Lenton was in the laboratory
before seven. He turned on the computer and the coffee-making
equipment. The two devices in his office were almost coupled together.
He looked over the correlation calculations for the factors under study
once again. The analysis of vaccinations performed by patients in terms
of the impact of this intervention on TCER polymorphism was forgotten.
He asked the person responsible for the flow of data from the Ameerland
Medicine Study to include all information about vaccinations performed
among study participants. After two days, he had all the data he needed.
Now statisticians should deal with them. The calculations were
completed in less than a week and the results were sent to Lenton.
Regardless of the statistical method used for analysis, the results were
always the same. The grandparents' generation did not show any
polymorphisms and the use of medical services was low. There was a large
group in my parents' generation where TCER was almost the rule.
Frequent medical advice was also a rule. Then everything disappeared in
the next generation. He sent an email to Graham Bohner informing him
that they needed to discuss the matter together. Why did the parent
generation group from the Ameerland Medicine Study have such a common
TCER polymorphism? They met for lunch to discuss directions for further
exploration. They both felt they were close to discovering the cause of
the observed variability.
Caption: Our bodies, our lives, our choice
At
the other end of the corridor of the "Modne Diagnozy" editorial office,
the "Tygodnik Niepopularny" apartments were located. The editor of Ivan
X. was on duty - a name unknown to any self-respecting editorial
office. She looked at the monitor, and clicked on e-mail - nothing
happened. Around noon she felt something move. No, not in the computer,
but inside the body of editors, or as some people used to say, editors.
It twitched a second and third time, with no intention of stopping. From
the throat, it passed through the chest decorated with withered breasts
and settled in the stomach. “Ear-ear-ear, I'm sitting in a certain
belly,” SOMETHING said and crouched in an unidentified nook of the
insides. When the red actress was wondering what could be moving through
her body, the phone rang unexpectedly. The crouched SOMETHING seemed to
have accelerated and began to travel through the body at a faster pace.
She didn't even have time to answer the ringing phone. What could it
be? – the editor-in-chief was concerned. Repeated searches for various
associations and descriptions of the ailments experienced did not bring
any answers. The distinguished editorial chaplain, who was passing
through the corridor, greeted the editor and politely asked: – What good
things do you hear from the dear editor? – Ahhhh, Reverend… I have
a problem, SOMETHING is moving inside me and I don't know what it could
be. I've looked everywhere and nothing suits me. I googled all the
organs and nothing. – And did you search for "wandering uterus"? – No…
Reverend, do you think it could be the uterus??? – the red-actress
asked, beyond frightened. “Medicine knows such cases,” the reverend said
mysteriously. The red-actress typed the password suggested by the
reverend with a trembling hand and they both immersed themselves in
reading...
What
to do? What to do? There was a recurring question in both of their
minds. After a short discussion, they decided that it was impossible to
stop the wandering of the uterus without going to the hospital.
Regardless of the late hour, they rushed in the Reverend's limousine to
the nearest hospital emergency room, where they arrived out of breath
just before midnight. In the first attempt, they bounced off a tightly
closed door. So they energetically started ringing all the bells and
hitting the armored glass with their fists, separating the healthcare
providers from their benefactors and sponsors of their studies. – Open,
open… – they shouted at the top of their lungs. - Help! Help! After
a long while, an Empathetic Paramedic appeared and opened the door to
the editorial team eager for medical help. – Let's go to the horse rider
on duty! – they shouted simultaneously. “Please sit down and search
your pockets for your latest insurance document,” the Empathetic Orderly
ordered phlegmatically. - What??? Insurance??? We need help here, not
showing what we have and what we don't have in our pockets! Please get
us in touch with a doctor quickly! – First of all, we will direct you to
the appropriate group… what's wrong with you… what? – said the
Empathetic Paramedic. “A wandering uterus, according to the Reverend,”
the red actress blurted out – Zara, Zara… – muttered the Empathetic
Paramedic, leafing through the latest guidelines of the National Brother
Payer. – What do we have here?… There is… a ruptured uterus – we then
give a red sash to the patient; an abandoned uterus – decorated with
a yellow sash; all other uteruses not classified above – receive a green
sash. By
the instructions, he girded the red actress's chest with a green sash
and walked away with a step reminiscent of the famous parade step on the
marshy ground during military studies classes. Meanwhile, Ivana
Unexpectedly, it turned out that after everyone had been taken care of
and decorated with red and yellow sashes, the quota allocated for cases
of uterine diseases that day ran out. The on-duty team, by the
guidelines, prepared documentation for the National Brother Payer. Units
wearing green sashes had no chance of helping today. The Reverend shook
his head at the futility of fate and worldly organizational solutions.
Being a resourceful man, he suggested visiting a famous uterine healer
or using the Formula 1 service center. They called the service center,
but unfortunately, the price of the service was beyond the payment
capacity of the red-actor Ivana X. The only hope left was that menopause
would free Ivana from uterine suffering. The Ministry of All Patients
has doubled and tripled in various activities for the benefit of
Sarmaland patients, but no one has yet been born who would please
everyone. It may not have been born, but we have to try, noted the
Minister of All Patients and ordered the search for a new image for the
ministry. Since Mrs. Wyborowa's image was sidelined, he has been
personally creating his media image. After a very heated meeting with
trusted advisors, it was decided to rename the Ministry of All Patients
to the Ministry of Only Good Decisions. A decision made in the right
ministry, in the right aura, has a completely different significance
than some accidental and ill-considered proposal by Mrs. Wyborowa
Wizerunkowa. The first legislative initiative of the newly established
ministry was the Act on Not Expressing Hasty Opinions, which was
intended to constitute an integral part of the medical bill package.
Doctors, especially the old ones, tended to give opinions on everything,
review it, and consider it from different angles. The worst thing was
that they called a council every time and discussed it even 24 hours
a day! Such a disorderly exchange of free thoughts could not lead to
anything good. Not expressing hasty opinions did not solve all the
problems regarding treatment. Patients obtained drugs in various ways -
they forced doctors to prescribe more and more expensive prescriptions
by request, deception, and threats. Everything
has to be controlled, checked, and supervised. You can't let anything
go, and under no circumstances should you let doctors decide on their
own. The Minister of Only Good Decisions was losing his mind, wondering
what else could be done to put an end to this electoral laxity. During
a routine Thursday staff meeting, he asked Mrs. Wyborowa Wizerunkowa
a last-chance question: – Do you have any new idea that could put an end
to this laxity in reimbursement among horse riders? – Eeeee… uh… this…
aaaa maybe… by… yes – Mrs. Wyborowa Image replied in full sentence. –
Well, you're of no use! I'm firing you irrevocably and this time for
real, not for PR! Goodbye forever! Please return your mobile phone to
the office and take the tram back home! You are no longer entitled to
a company car!!! – shouted Minister Bartolomeo Karriera-Nieuwierra,
known in Poland and abroad for only good decisions. He sipped from a can
of a drink that cleared his mind and warded off the specter of
hypoglycemia that always haunted him when he fired someone from work,
then delved into the pile of pleading papers that various associations
had thrown at him. Or maybe we could delve deeper into these
reimbursement structures and look for some criminal connection with this
Bad Pharma... there must be... some connection... if they produce these
drugs, they get something out of it... they must have... well, it can't
be that they had nothing... Hours passed, more cans of lightening drink
landed in the waste bin under the ministerial desk, and the ministerial
mind was still immersed in darkness and decision-making powerlessness.
Due to the lack of evidence for a controlled crime, the minister decided
to look for other ways to deal with the problems. After much
consideration, he decided that the classic solution would be the safest.
After all, it worked so many times, it should work this time too! – he
said to himself, to console himself. I'll blame it all on those greedy
croakers. I will say that their salaries eat up the medical budget and
at least someone will be responsible for the financial shortfall.
Exhausted by the loss of energy, he managed to allocate what was left of
it to write an application for a special bonus for himself for his
services to the health of the nation.
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