On a sultry Tuesday evening in New York City, Luke Brown excitedly opened a newly delivered bottle of black-and-orange pills, popped his first dose in his mouth, and washed it down with root beer.
Having contracted monkeypox this month, the lanky, bespectacled 29-year-old project manager had been suffering from what he called “the most severe pain of my life” for over a week before he finally was able to obtain a course of antivirals — a treatment he hoped would soon clear up his lesions and alleviate his suffering.
For Brown, this was cause for celebration. But it was also a sobering moment for him to reflect on how, to gain access to this medication, he had to leverage high degrees of personal privilege, medical literacy and self-advocacy that he said he was guiltily aware most people at risk for monkeypox probably lack. Because to join the fortunate few who have obtained this prized medication, called TPOXX, he had to navigate what he characterized as the exasperatingly byzantine maze of the medical and public health system.