A gentleman with a silver-headed cane and a panama hat prods at one of the creatures washed up by the storm. “Needles,” he muses. “Essential for the sea urchin, but maybe not for people with rheumatoid arthritis. There are other options. Like the un-jection. Xeljanz XR.”
And finally he passes a group of women crying “Oh!” – “Oh!” – “Oh!” – “Oh!” He calls to them. “What’s happening?” And they reply, chorusing in unison, “People everywhere are exclaiming Oh! in reaction to Ozempic. It lowers blood sugar in adults with Type 2 diabetes.”
The disorder, the dysfunctionality of America has reached the level of the physiological, Francis understands. It’s not about the public arena anymore, or not exclusively. The sickness has spilled over the edges of the body politic and entered the body itself.