Tag Archives: COVID-19

Immunity

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Barb got her second COVID vaccination (Pfizer) this afternoon. I’ve been trying to think of a more anticipated event in the 40+ years we’ve been together. Our wedding was a big deal but I think we were both more excited about the after-party. But that wasn’t a life-or-death moment. Given our age and other factors, getting COVID could put us in the hospital and/or kill us. So we hunkered down. Way down. Rarely indoors away from home. Always wearing masks. Avoiding friends and family.

That last part has been really hard on Barb. She never complained but it was really hard on her not to spend time with her sisters and brothers, nieces and nephews, and all the “littles.” And her countless friends. But she did it. She did it for the people she loves and cares about and she did it because she loves life and wants hers back without the fear of a deadly virus putting her on a ventilator and maybe leaving her crippled for life.

For a long time the idea of an effective vaccine was just a tiny speck of light at the end of an endless, very dark tunnel. But the scientists came through and gave us a couple (so far) of vaccines. And good ones, that will keep us from getting really sick and winding up in the hospital. And the wait began.

As a former nurse, Barb appreciated the need for health care workers to get vaccinated first. And people in nursing homes. You know the story. Next in line were people over the age of 65 and those with health conditions that put them at higher risk from the virus. Hey, that’s us! So we put our names on the lists and waited for the call and checked our email.

Most of Barb’s friends have been vaccinated and some of her family. And in a week or so, this second shot will do its thing with/to her immune system and she can slowly and carefully take her life back. It’ll still be masks and social distancing (god, how I hate that term). She’ll be able sit indoors with her (vaccinated) sister and talk and plan their trips to Florida. She can hang out with her pals (the vaccinated ones) in the garden club. She can be with people besides me (and our two dogs). Truly, I can’t imagine what this has been like for her.

The vaccine has taken on an almost magical aura. A few drops of a colorless liquid from a tiny vial that changes… everything. Sure, there will be “variants” and “mutations” and the guys in lab will have to find ways to tweak the vaccines. And they will. But today… today Barb has as much protection as modern medicine can provide. And I have never been more grateful.

Facebook to remove false vaccine claims

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“Facebook said on Monday that it plans to remove posts with erroneous claims about vaccines from across its platform, including taking down assertions that vaccines cause autism or that it is safer for people to contract Covid-19 than to receive the vaccinations. […] Monday’s move goes further by targeting unpaid posts to the site and particularly Facebook pages and groups. Instead of targeting only misinformation around Covid vaccines, the update encompasses false claims around all vaccines. Facebook said it consulted with the World Health Organization and other leading health institutes to determine a list of false or misleading claims around Covid and vaccines in general.”

I’ll believe it when I see it. Of course, I won’t see it but you know what I mean.

Vaccinated

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I got my first dose of COVID-19 vaccine (Pfizer-BioNTech) this afternoon. This was a lot sooner than I expected since Missouri is dead last in the nation in the percentage of citizens vaccinated. I was thinking April, maybe.

Our doctors are affiliated with the University of Missouri Hospitals in nearby Columbia so we signed up to their program. On Monday of this week they began online scheduling and –being over 65– I was able to get an appointment.

MU is using Faurot Field as their vaccination site. Not the stadium but what looked to me like the VIP area where the Big Shots watch the games. It was all very well organized and I was in an out in no time. I’m sure it will get more hectic when they start mass vaccinations.

I’ve thought a good deal about vaccinations in recent months. I get a flu shot every year and I’ve been vaccinated for pneumonia and shingles. As a child in the ’50s I was vaccinated against polio and smallpox and all of the other childhood diseases. But at my age (73 next month), COVID-19 could be a death sentence. Worse than death in my opinion. So getting this vaccine had a very real life-or-death feel to it.

If we can believe the CDC (and I do now), the Pfizer vaccine might be 95% effective. While there seems to be lots of questions about just what that means, there’s a good chance it will keep me out of the hospital and off a ventilator.

I go back for the booster shot in 21 days. According to the studies, some immunity starts 10 to 14 days after the first dose, but full immunity appears seven to 14 days after the second. Full immunity. Has a nice ring to it. But you won’t see me out and about without a mask for at least the next six months. We’ll avoid being indoors and still order our groceries online. Not much will change. But we (Barb got her first shot last week) will have some immunity. What a beautiful word. It feels like a super power.

Yes, there will be mutations of the virus and the scientists will be scrambling for years, doing their best to come up with new and more effective vaccines. My secret hope is this process will lead to vaccines for the common cold and other more serious diseases.

PS: Wore my favorite T-shirt (by Dylan Sisson) because you can’t see my shit-eating grin behind the mask.

Missouri is last in vaccinations

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“That’s what the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is reporting as it tracks vaccinations for COVID-19 state by state. The entire nation is behind pace, due in part to the failures of the previous presidential administration to take virtually anything related to the coronavirus pandemic seriously. But Missouri, as of Sunday, is last, with just 3.6% of its population having received the first shot of the life-saving vaccine.”

“Unfortunately, being last in public health is nothing new in Missouri. It’s been that way for a long time. The average state spends $33.50 per person for various public health measures. Missouri, dead last in the nation, spends $6 per person, according to the Missouri Foundation for Health.”

St. Louis Post-Dispatch

Burning Building

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I’m looking at a burning skyscraper, hundreds of stories tall. On every floor people are laughing and talking. Here at street level, more people continue to enter the building, even as they see the flames and smoke billowing from nearly every floor. Every few seconds a body falls to the pavement but the newcomers simply step over them.

“The building’s on fire!” I shout but they only laugh and wave and head for the elevators.

It occurs to me people won’t stop going in until everyone’s dead or the building collapses.

Proof of vaccination

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BBC: “International air travellers will in the future need to prove they have been vaccinated against Covid-19 in order to board Qantas flights, the airline says.

Bloomberg: “The International Air Transport Association (IATA) announced Monday that it’s “in the final development phase” of a “digital passport” mobile app that would receive COVID-19 test and vaccination certificates. […] Global airline lobby IATA is working on a mobile app that will help travelers demonstrate their coronavirus-free status, joining a push to introduce so-called Covid passports to speed up the revival of international travel.”

This is certainly a responsible thing to do. But it is also great marketing. When passengers begin asking if the airline requires proof of vaccination, and choosing those that do, it won’t be long before all airlines do this.

Before you enroll your child in school, you have to provide proof of vaccination against common childhood diseases. (Or at least you used to.) When the highway patrolman walks up to your window, he asks for your driver’s license, vehicle registration and proof of insurance. And you better have it.

If you don’t want to wear a mask to protect others during a pandemic, that’s fine (oh, and fuck you). But let’s see how strong your “my body, my choice” convictions are when you can’t get into Arrowhead Stadium (where the KC Chiefs play), or Red Lobster, or the hillbilly casino down the road. It’s gonna be lonely out there for mask-deniers. But hey, you’ve got each other.

“False Side Effects”

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“If you take 10 million people and just wave your hand back and forth over their upper arms, in the next two months you would expect to see about 4,000 heart attacks. About 4,000 strokes. Over 9,000 new diagnoses of cancer. And about 14,000 of that ten million will die, out of usual all-causes mortality. No one would notice. That’s how many people die and get sick anyway. But if you took those ten million people and gave them a new vaccine instead, there’s a real danger that those heart attacks, cancer diagnoses, and deaths will be attributed to the vaccine. I mean, if you reach a large enough population, you are literally going to have cases where someone gets the vaccine and drops dead the next day (just as they would have if they *didn’t* get the vaccine). It could prove difficult to convince that person’s friends and relatives of that lack of connection, though.”

— Derek Lowe (In The Pipeline)