Anonymous said: I know a lot of people that have gotten sick from flu shots. I have never had the flu and stop getting vaccines years ago. You're the ignorant fuck if you think people "need" vaccines. It is a persons right to deny them and given a hell of a lot of proof people are justified to deny them as well
Ignorant fuck must be some new compliment because all these anti-vaxxers keep calling me that. You angels. I think I’ll hang it next to my BFA and my not giving a fuck lifetime achievement award, but still leaving room on the wall for my MD, which is currently in progress and halfway completed.
Spoiler alert #1: you can’t get the flu from the flu vaccine, which covers some strains of influenza. It’s literally impossible. You can, however, get a flu-like illness from over a dozen other viruses, some of which have the same seasonal prevalence as influenza.
Spoiler alert #2: Your personal experience as a single unvaccinated person does not have any statistical significance. I’m really stoked you, a presumably healthy younger type of person with a functioning immune system and halfway decent nutrition, have not gotten the flu. I am. The flu sucks. However, babies, pregnant people, people with compromised immune systems or even chronic medical conditions such as asthma, and elderly, are very much at risk. When you, healthy person, get vaccinated, you do a little part to maybe prevent one of them from getting the flu and developing nasty complications such as deadly pneumonia.
Spoiler alert #3:
I’ll tell you who needs vaccines: this baby, who I saw last night on my overnight shift in the pediatric ER. And here is a post where I admittedly was real snarky
BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS GETTING REAL OLD OK GUYSand it has some really good graphs from an excellent lecture I went to about the public health impact of vaccines (in case the crapton of links above isn’t enough to make you reconsider your stance maybe some graphs will, I dunno how your brains work).
I need to be alone for certain periods of time or I violate my own rhythm.
— Lee Krasner (via theuniversityredhead)
You are 12. You’re at the library looking for some generic young adult fiction novel about a girl who falls for her best friend. Your dad makes a disgusted face. “This is about lesbians,” he says. The word falls out of his mouth as though it pains him. You check out a different book and cry when you get home, but you aren’t sure why. You learn that this is not a story about you, and if it is, you are disgusting.
You are 15. Your relatives are fawning over your cousin’s new boyfriend. “When will you have a boyfriend?” they ask. You shrug. “Maybe she’s one of those lesbians,” your grandpa says. You don’t say anything. You learn that to find love and acceptance from your family, you need a boyfriend who thinks you are worthy of love and acceptance.
You are 18. Your first boyfriend demands to know why you never want to have sex with him. He tells you that sex is normal and healthy. You learn that something is wrong with you.
You are 13. You’re at a pool party with a relative’s friend’s daughter. “There’s this lesbian in my gym class. It’s so gross,” she says. “Ugh, that’s disgusting,” another girl adds. They ask you, “do you have any lesbians at your school?” You tell them no and they say you are lucky. You learn to stay away from people.
You are 20. You have coffee with a girl and you can’t stop thinking about her for days afterwards. You learn the difference between a new friendship and new feelings for a person.
You are 13. Your mom is watching a movie. You see two girls kiss on screen. You feel butterflies and this sense that you identify with the girls on the screen. Your mom gets up and covers the screen. You learn that if you are like those girls, no one wants to see it.
You are 20. You and your friends are drunk and your ex-boyfriend dares you to make out with your friend. You both agree. You touch her face. It feels soft and warm. Her lips are small and her hands feel soft on your back. You learn the difference between being attracted to someone and recognizing that someone you care about is attractive.
You are 16. You find lesbian porn online. Their eyes look dead and their bodies are positioned in a way that you had never imagined. You learn that liking girls is acceptable if straight men can decide the terms.
You are 20. You are lying next to a beautiful girl and talking about everything. You tell her things that you don’t usually tell anyone. You learn how it feels not to want to go to sleep because you don’t want to miss out on any time with someone.
You are 15. Your parents are talking about a celebrity. Your dad has a grin on his face and says, “her girlfriend says that she’s having the best sex of her life with her!” You learn that being a lesbian is about the kind of sex you have and not how you love.
You are 18. You are in intro to women’s and gender studies. “Not all feminists are lesbians- I love my husband! Most of the feminists on our leadership team are straight! It’s just a stereotype,” the professor exclaims. You learn that lesbianism is something to separate yourself from.
You are 21 and you are kissing a beautiful girl and she’s your girlfriend and you understand why people write songs and make movies and stupid facebook statuses about this and time around you just seems to stop and you could spend forever like this and you learn that there is nothing wrong with you and you are falling in love.
You are 21. And you are okay.
— a thing I wrote after arguing with an insensitive dude on facebook all day or Things Other People Taught me about Liking Girls (via samanticshift)
Life’s too short to drink crappy coffee and cry over boys who don’t care.
— Matty Healy (the 1975)