Measles shot? Check. TB? Check check. HPV? Aaaaaiiiieeee!!!!

Chalk this one in the column of ongoing things I just don't understand. This would be the Gardasil kerfuffle, the consternation raised by Merck's introduction of a vaccine that has tested at near-100% effectiveness in preventing two of the most common strains of cervical-cancer-causing HPV. One in four women carry the virus, which can be identified as causal of nearly 70% of all cervical cancers.

The rational world short version: get the vaccine before becoming sexually active and dramatically decrease your chances of contracting cervical cancer.

The fundamentalist short version: get the vaccine and have carte blanche for a lifetime promiscuous, unprotected sex starting right now.

Actually, that's not really fair to fundamentalists, since they're not the only ones balking at vaccinating preteen girls against a sexually transmitted disease. Some people object to the cost ($400 for the three-shot regimen), others to the addition of another mandatory vaccine to a growing list of requirements for their kids to attend school, others to the sense of a creeping nanny state... and some otherwise rational folks just get the willies when faced with the need to dovetail "sex" and "my daughter" into the same thought. Even the revered Ellen Goodman isn't completely immune:

Nor am I surprised that parents are queasy. It's not easy for any parent to accept that their middle-schooler should get protection from a sexually transmitted disease, even with the risk of cancer.

This queasiness is shared by other people I have talked to, people who, again, are usually more in line with what I consider clear thinking [disclaimer: granted, I'm a generally leftish nutter, but still].

Me: What's the problem with it?
Them: 12-year-olds? They shouldn't even be thinking about sex.
Me: That's exactly the point. You need to administer the vaccine before they're sexually active for it to have the best chance of working.
Them: Yeah, but 12?!?
Me: ...

If HPV were spread as innocuously as mononucleosis or viral meningitis, in morally neutral ways such as getting sneezed on or sharing a can of soda or--brace yourself--kissing someone, as even abstinent teenagers are wont to do, we wouldn't be having this discussion. There might be outrage at the cost, but not at the mere idea of vaccinating children against a virus that can lead to suffering and death when they become adults.

People who don't skip a beat when talking about their dreams for their far-in-the-future grandkids or wonder how much they'll have to pay for their daughters' weddings suddenly get green around the gills when forced to think about the sexual implications of those dreams and plans. Look, here it is. Your sweet little girl, god willing, is going to grow up someday, and will most likely engage in sexual intercourse with at least one person in her lifetime. Even if she completely abstains from sexual contact of any kind until she's in a committed relationship, there is absolutely no guarantee that her eventual partner will be HPV free.

And if you don't want to think about your daughter having consensual sex, should I even bring up the possibility that she will be sexually assaulted at some point? How about the fact that one in three victims is under the age of 12?

Cervical cancer is only one of a myriad of health concerns facing adult women in the US. But the vaccine has given us the chance to scratch one big bogeyman off the list. Uneasiness with the reality of your daughters' sexuality is a sorry excuse for balking at the opportunity to protect them against a completely preventable condition. The next time you dream about your grandkids, dream about them having a healthy mother.