It's 2020 and I'm vaccinated for COVID. There's no celebration here.
While that may sound shocking to you, it hasn't become real to me either and has barely changed my cautiousness. My anxiety has moved from a 10 to a 9.5.
Here's my story:
I researched the various vaccines in development and felt comfortable volunteering for a Phase Three trial study. Teaching yourself science by Google is probably not recommended, but I did the best I could.
My feeling was... the sooner these studies filled out, the sooner there would be efficacy data and the sooner we could have a working vaccine and move on with our lives. I was SHOCKED to find out how easy it was to volunteer. Why wasn't there a line wrapped around the corner of every study group in the country? People camp out for Beyonce tickets (no offense to her), but not this?
I passed the screening which included a physical, medical questions, blood work, a COVID test and signing my life away. Everyone at every step was professional and answered what I'm sure were annoying and relentless questions. I got the first injection and was monitored for 30 minutes before I was allowed to return home.
The first night I felt fine and then on day two it hit me. I had a tiny elevated temperature, soreness and felt flush and run down. Nothing to write home about except for the hyper sensitivity to having undergone an "experiment." Mentally, I was grouchy. What if this was the placebo? Then I'd have to get more injections and that's if they would even allocate vaccines for that group. The physical symptoms subsided by the next afternoon.
Three weeks later I went in for another COVID test and received the second injection. Symptoms this time were soreness at the injection site and a headache, both which subsided on day two.
My most recent follow up was more blood work.
I am confident, with additional testing, I received the vaccine and not the placebo. A vaccine isn't a cure and you can still catch and spread COVID, so I remain careful.
When it was announced Pfizer was 90%+ effective, it's the first time I got emotional because I knew something, anything was about to become available to help people.
As I said above, I mentally haven't wrapped my head around my own situation. COVID activated some form of OCD within me and I'm still not touching surfaces with bare hands. For months, I've put on an N95 mask, goggles, gloves, long sleeves and had wipes to grocery shop. I'd self check out and wipe down the groceries at home and put my clothes in a garbage bag to sit for two weeks. Now, my rituals are about 75% of that. It makes me think longer and harder about the grocery clerk and the sacrifices they've made.
I still wear a mask to protect myself and those around me.
I'm supporting restaurants including more in-person visits. I'm still updating and re-evaluating my services based on current conditions. I hope I'll soon be confident enough to volunteer my time on-site helping others. I wanted to donate plasma with antibodies, but it just came out there's a warning and plasma shouldn't be collected from vaccine volunteers.
A restaurant worker, a supplier, a meat processor, a bartender and a check-out clerk are just some of the food industry workers who need to be in a priority group for vaccines.
People who continue to risk their lives daily are in medical, public safety, first response, teaching, nursing homes, public transit and yes, food service.
Some people have told me I'm "lucky" and I'm fortunate to "cut the line." I don't feel lucky. In some ways I feel guilty because I'm vaccinated when a nurse on their 12th hour of a grueling and heartbreaking shift filled with worry and pain isn't.
But I also feel thankful. Thankful for progress and the dream that I can one day come to see you, smile, laugh and enjoy a meal.