Thread by @TheRealDoctorT

They’ve been married for forty-five years, and reached the point in their relationship where most of the communication happens wordlessly.

A subtle smile, a nod.

A “hmm” or a “yeah” or the occasional “fer sure.”

Their love reaches a place, deep down. 1/

Carl and Annie have lived in the same house, in the same small town, their whole lives.

They know their neighbors.

They know the townspeople.

They know that Katie Ryder is selling homemade pies from her homemade stand after church this Sunday.

Delicious. 2/

Once a week, Carl’s patio deck is the gathering place for a group of friends he’s known for decades.

They smoke cigars, have a few drinks, play Texas hold ‘em, and talk about everything.

Lately the topic has often been COVID.

Carl doesn’t say much.

Mostly he listens. 3/

Bill Crowder is the local COVID expert. He used to be a systems analyst, or an engineer, or something. Carl isn’t sure.

But Bill knows science. At least it seems that way. He knows all the latest studies.

“I’m telling y’all, the answer is serrapeptase.”

The men laugh. 4/

“Serra-what? What’re you goin’ on about Bill?” Carl grins as he glances up, then back down at his cards.

“It’s got a ton of data, but the industry hides it!” Bill’s eyes flash with a rising intensity. 5/

Carl quirks a brow, “The industry hides it? Which industry?”

Before Bill can answer, the rest of the men at the table chime in unison, “Big Pharma.”

Bill grins, pleased. “Damn straight pharma! They know it works, but ain’t no money in it.”

Carl nods slowly, “Figures.” 6/

The hours pass. Eventually the games are over, the bottles are empty.

As the men get ready to go home, Carl asks a question that’s been on his mind.

“Hey, any of y’all got the vaccine yet?”

One of them, Ed Schertz, speaks up, “I got it Carl.”

Bill scoffs, “Big mistake.” 7/

Before anyone can say anything, Bill launches into his usual anti-vaccine speech.

Ed shrugs in response, “Whatever Bill, I got it and I did fine.”

Bill grins, “Give it time.”

Carl sighs wearily. “Alright fellas, time to go home. Y’all drive safe.” 8/

“So what did y’all talk about?” Annie’s sitting in the living room, her legs tucked beneath her on the couch, as always.

“The usual stuff. Then listened to Bill go on about COVID for a solid hour or two.”

She laughs, “Carl, he’s nuts. You know that right?”

He shrugs. 9/

She smiles, her gaze turning to the TV. Someone is yelling, red-faced, on Fox News. She sighs, and changes the channel.

Carl picks up his novel about tanks in World War 2 and starts reading, as Annie picks up her knitting.

A comfortable silence envelopes them both. 10/

It’s Annie who breaks the silence.

“Carl, can you see if you can schedule us for the COVID shot this weekend?”

Carl nods, “Mmhmm.”

She senses his distrust. “Look, I know Bill Crowder reckons he’s an expert an’ all, but he ain’t. We’re old, and I wanna keep you around.” 11/

As they go to bed that night, Carl thinks about the vaccine.

The truth is, he isn’t sure what to think.

Bill seems convincing, and he’s known him for decades. A local radio show host says the vax is a Chinese plot against America, the internet seems to confirm it. 12/

Carl had asked his primary care doctor about the vaccine once.

“Get the shot, Carl,” the doctor said.

“Well… uhm… Bill Crowder says-“

The doc shook his head. “Billy Crowder is a fool. Don’t be a bigger one Carl.”

And that was it. Visit over. 13/

And so, faced with the weight of uncertainty on one side, and the dismissal of his concerns on the other, Carl finds himself leaning towards a decision that seems inevitable.

He won’t get the shot, and neither will Annie.

At least until the FDA approves it, he rationalizes. 14/

Nobody in town wears masks.

Nobody in town distances.

And nobody in town pays much attention to Katie Ryder’s cough as she sells her pies on a Sunday.

The night Annie spikes a fever, Carl assumes it’s just a cold.

Just to be safe, he gives her serrapeptase capsules. 15/

When Annie is hospitalized and tests positive for COVID, Carl feels the growing weight of a terrible realization.

Bill visits with all sorts of suggestions, regimens he has found studies for, but the more Carl listens, the more he realizes Annie was right about him.

Dammit. 16/

Annie is transferred to the big city. Carl packs up his bags and goes to stay at a hotel there so he can be with her.

They don’t let him in, and he can’t use his phone to FaceTime, but he calls and speaks to Annie every night.

Until she can no longer speak. 17/

Three weeks later, Carl is sitting at home.

Alone.

Annie’s things are just as she left them, her knitting supplies still neatly set aside on the couch.

She’ll never finish the sweater she had started.

Carl tries to cry, but can’t.

This grief reaches a place, deep down. 18/

People come by to give their condolences. Everyone has to wear a mask. Carl insists.

Bill Crowder comes by too. “I’m real sorry Carl,” he says. “It was God’s will.”

“Yeah,” murmurs Carl, “God’s will.”

They both fall silent, before Bill says, “Should’ve given her HCQ.” 19/

Carl’s voice is quiet, “Bill, you ever think you might be wrong?”

Bill frowns. “Wrong? Hell no. I know the science.”

Carl looks away, “Goodbye Bill.”

“Goodbye Carl.”

And Carl is left alone again, in the wreckage of his grief.

The aftermath of all his good intentions.

(For all the Carls I know, and especially all the Annies.

This story is based on numerous conversations with many patients in South Texas.)