Vaccine Skeptics Furious After Learning Vaccines Also Prevent Scurvy, Cholera, and Getting Ghosted
**Washington, D.C.** — In what public health officials are calling “the most predictable plot twist since everyone realized the Titanic was definitely not going to make it,” a new study published by the CDC has sent shockwaves through the crunchy-to-almond-milk pipeline of American discourse. Researchers have confirmed that, contrary to popular belief among certain wellness influencers who sell essential oils out of their Priuses, vaccines do, in fact, prevent more than just the sniffles and a vague sense of government control.
The study, which analyzed 50 years of global health data, found that routine childhood immunizations have also significantly reduced the incidence of scurvy, cholera, and—in a finding that has particularly rattled the dating app ecosystem—being ghosted after a third date. Yes, you read that right. Turns out, that MMR shot wasn’t just stopping measles; it was apparently blocking the universe’s ability to make your Hinge match vanish into the ether.
We spoke to Dr. Linda Harmon, an epidemiologist at Johns Hopkins, who looked like she’d been asked to explain why water is wet for the thousandth time.
“Look, we didn’t set out to find this,” Dr. Harmon said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We were just trying to update the database on pertussis. But when we cross-referenced immunization records with social outcomes, the data was undeniable. Children who received the full CDC-recommended schedule were 78% less likely to be left on ‘read’ as adults. The correlation was stronger than the link between vaccines and not dying of polio, which is saying something, because that link is basically a steel beam.”
The internet, predictably, did not take this well. Within hours of the announcement, the hashtag #BigVaccineExposed was trending on X, formerly known as Twitter, where users were frantically trying to reconcile their entire worldview with the horrifying possibility that the jab their aunt said would magnetize them might actually just... make their lives better.
“This is a violation of my bodily autonomy,” wrote user @FreeRangeHuman420 in a thread that quickly devolved into a debate about whether kale can cure COVID if you scream at it hard enough. “I don’t want a government-mandated microchip that prevents cholera. I want to earn my cholera the old-fashioned way: by drinking from a suspicious stream during a hiking trip I saw on TikTok.”
Others were more concerned about the social implications. “So you’re telling me,” wrote @AlphaMaleGrindset99, “that my lack of success on Bumble is because my mom didn’t get me a polio vaccine in 1998? I’ve been doing 5 AM cold plunges and listening to Jordan Peterson for NOTHING?” The post received 14,000 likes and a single reply from a verified doctor saying, “No, you’re just not interesting. The vaccine just prevents ghosting. It doesn’t make you charming.”
The anti-vaccine movement, a coalition of wellness bloggers, former beauty pageant contestants, and that one guy at the farmer’s market who sells raw milk out of a cooler, scrambled to respond. Their main counterargument, which they released via a 45-minute YouTube video filmed in front of a vision board, was that preventing scurvy is “unnatural” because scurvy is a “natural consequence of not eating oranges.”
“Who are they to decide that I shouldn’t experience the traditional human journey of tooth loss and depression?” asked one prominent influencer, who declined to give her name but was easily identified by her collection of shungite rocks. “My body, my choice. And my choice is to get cholera from a water bottle I left in my car for three weeks. That’s my journey.”
Meanwhile, the dating app industry is in a full-blown panic. Executives at Tinder, Hinge, and Bumble held an emergency meeting this morning to discuss the existential threat posed by a vaccine that reduces ghosting. Preliminary reports indicate that user engagement could drop by as much as 40% if people suddenly stop experiencing the quiet, crushing despair of being unmatched without explanation.
“We’ve built our entire business model on the dopamine hit of a match followed by the slow fade into oblivion,” said a Tinder spokesperson, speaking on condition of anonymity because their PR team was busy deleting tweets. “If vaccines prevent that, we might have to... actually make the app work? That’s a multi-billion dollar engineering problem we are not prepared for.”
The CDC, for its part, has clarified that the ghosting-prevention mechanism is not fully understood. Some researchers believe it’s related to the immune system’s ability to regulate inflammation, which in turn affects social behavior. Others think it’s simply that people who are vaccinated are less likely to die of preventable diseases, and therefore have more opportunities to go on dates and get rejected in person.
“Honestly, we don’t know why it works,” Dr. Harmon admitted. “But neither does the guy selling you colloidal silver. The difference is our data is peer-reviewed and his comes from a Facebook group called ‘Awakening The Pineal Gland 2024.’ I’m just saying, maybe trust the people who don’t think the government is hiding the cure for cancer in a safe under the Denver Airport.”
As of press time, the debate has reached a fever pitch, with both sides digging in. Pro-vaccine advocates are celebrating the new findings as yet another win for science. Anti-vaccine advocates are simply arguing that if vaccines prevent ghosting, then they must also prevent “true love,” because nothing says “authentic connection” like the fear of a slow, painful death from a disease that was eradicated in 1979.
And in a bizarre twist, several dating coaches have already started offering “Vaccine Detox” programs, promising to “reopen your romantic chakras” by reversing the supposed social protection conferred by immunization. The cost? A modest $2,000 for a three-day retreat that includes drinking celery juice and sending unsolicited “u up?” texts to exes
Final Thoughts
After poring over the evidence, it’s impossible to ignore that vaccines remain one of public health’s most potent tools—a triumph of science that has quietly saved more lives than any battlefield general ever could. Yet the real story here isn’t just the biological mechanism; it’s the fragile trust between institutions and the public, a trust that is constantly tested by misinformation and administrative missteps. Looking ahead, our success won’t be measured by another booster shot, but by whether we can rebuild that faith with transparency and a respect for the very human fear vaccines are meant to conquer.