Oh Daddy Chronicles
Episode XI - Hydroxy and Me
(The scene shifts to the White House briefing room. An unfamiliar figure walks to the podium, facing a gaggle of socially distanced White House correspondents.)
(Ed. note - All questions described here are from actual White House correspondents of major media outlets. Their specific identities are being withheld to protect them from any possibility of retribution by the President squirting them with a water pistol filled with liquid bleach.)
“Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Commander Sean Conley. My official title is Physician to the President. I am the Director of the White House Medical Unit, which is responsible for the medical needs of the President of the United States, the Vice President, White House staff, and visitors. I give these credentials so that, no matter what I might say in response to your questions, you will hopefully keep in mind that I actually do know my shit. I would like to begin with the statement I released yesterday.
"As has been previously reported, two weeks ago one of the President's support staff tested positive for COVID-19. The President is in very good health and has remained symptom-free. He receives regular COVID-19 testing, all negative to date. After numerous discussions he and I had regarding the evidence for and against the use of hydroxychloroquine, we concluded the potential benefit from treatment outweighed the relative risks. In consultation with our inter-agency partners and subject matter experts around the country, I continue to monitor the myriad studies investigating potential COVID-19 therapies, and I anticipate employing the same shared medical decision-making based on the evidence at hand in the future.
"Now, I will take your questions."
" Can you tell us, in plain English, what the fuck you just said?"
"Of course. The President wanted to take hydroxychloroquine. I wanted to keep my job. Pretty simple really."
“So the President started taking hydroxychloroquine in response to the two White House staffers who tested positive for COVID-19?”
“Actually, no. That is sort of what I implied and is a logical, but incorrect, assumption. What really happened is that, around that time, the President thought he heard a mosquito whining around the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office. (You know that infuriating sound.). Anyway, the President panicked, screaming that he was going to get malaria. From his research on hydroxychloroquine, he remembered that it is used as a prophylactic against malaria and demanded that we give it to him.”
“Has it worked?”
“I am pleased to report that the President shows no signs of malaria except for the facial coloring of a bag of Cheetos. However, that is not a recent phenomenon.”
“But aren’t you concerned about the potential for adverse cardiac events from taking hydroxychloroquine? Specifically, QT interval prolongation, ventricular tachycardia, and ventricular fibrillation?"
“We evaluated those risks carefully. We were persuaded by a study done in Papua Guinea investigating the correlation between heart size and susceptibility to adverse cardiac side effects of hydroxychloroquine. The study found that the smaller the heart size, the smaller the risk of adverse events. As you probably know, the President’s heart is so small that you could fit 20 of them in Mitch McConnell’s turkey wattle chin.”
“Sounds like an impressive study. How many participants were there?”
“We think there were three.”
“Was it double-blind placebo-controlled?”
“We think all participants could see, despite they and the lead trial investigator being completely shit-faced from the indigenous alcoholic drink made from palm tree roots.”
“You keep saying, “you think.” Don’t you actually know?”
“Not really. The study results are available only in the local language of Tok Pisin.”
“I understand that hydroxychloroquine is contraindicated in people with a genetic enzyme disorder such as porphyria or glucose-6-phosphate dehydrogenase (G6PD) deficiency. Has the President been checked for this?”
"I understand the Federal government procured 29 million doses of hydroxychloroquine. How will they be used?"
"Distribution questions like that are outside my purview. But I can tell you that the 17 million doses set aside for the President are safely stored in the men's locker room in the White House basement."
"Could I ask a personal question, Dr. Conley? After all, we don't know you very well."
"Yes, of course. Go ahead."
"You are from Pennsylvania, right?"
"Then why do you speak with a rather awful, phony Scottish accent?"
"Ah, now you are getting personal, but I will answer your question. When I was a teenager, and continuing into adulthood, I was just terrible with girls. I was so bad that I even struck out with that roly-poly little bat-faced girl that Paul Simon introduced me to. Out of desperation, I tried this Scottish accent, hoping that when I introduced myself, people would think I said "Sean Connery," rather than "Sean Conley."
"Did it work?"
"I don't know if it worked or not, but I can very happily say that I am married to a wonderful woman named Kristin and we have three beautiful children - two boys and a girl."
"And their names?"
"Angus, Ragnall, and Dioiridh."
"It would appear that the President is doing rather well on hydroxychloroquine. I was going to go so far as to say his cheeks are looking rosy, but I guess it would have been an orange variant of the rose family. Nevertheless, he almost shines. In your medical judgment, might this have anything to do with the hydroxychloroquine?"
"That is an astute observation and one I myself have also made. I have thought about it a lot, consulted with colleagues around the world (including Dr. Oz), and pored through medical textbooks and journals. I have concluded that, for some reason, the President and hydroxychloroquine simply have a mutual affinity for each other. The only way I can explain this is that both President Trump and hydroxychloroquine are completely ineffective against COVID-19 and come with dangerous side effects."
(At this point, a group of official-looking men enter the room and seize Commander Conley. The leader of the group, who bears a striking resemblance to Dr. No, announces that the American Medical Association and all state licensing boards are revoking Conley’s medical license with immediate effect. Conley leaves, as do the assembled White House correspondents. A loud, shrieking, spine-chilling cry is heard coming from the direction of the West Wing.)