Here lies our beloved metered-dose inhaler, which kept us alive throughout the 1990s and even the early ought years, until Advair came along. But we still held onto ya, little buddy, because nothing could quite match your bold, refreshing aerosol blast. It was you alone that kept the Ministry of Information and other super-smokey bars in business; after a long night, even non-asthmatics would yearn for a blast. For a time, you even became an object of geek chic — tell him, girls! But this morning, we learned of your fate. They don’t make you anymore, said the pharmacist, to our shock and horror when we called in for a refill. “But WHY?,” we asked. And there it was: The aerosol. You were killing polar bears. We know you didn’t know, little buddy. We know it was your whole goal to give us life and not let us drown in phlegm and blockage, saving us forever from the process of natural selection, keeping asthmatics (and their friends) breathing no matter how much they didn’t deserve it. (And often, we didn’t.) What follows you, then? A fine mist, which we suspect will get the job done. But your powerful blast is lost forever. However, I don’t need to tell you this, little buddy, but we will never forget. WE WILL NEVER FORGET.
P.S. If anybody is sitting on extras of these, get at us.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 31st, 2008 at 12:33 pm.