An injection of hope and gratitude
As I waited in line on Saturday morning for my COVID-19 inoculation, all that kept running through my head was: “Will they somehow refuse me? Will they run out of vaccines?”
Like many emergency room nurses, I have seen my share of the horrors that this insidious virus has caused. I got my first glimpse in April when I saw three patients die from it during the same shift. Back then, our morgue was full and these poor people's bodies had to be loaded into a refrigerated truck in the back of the hospital. Those trucks have recently returned to many hospitals.
Now, against the odds, in less than a year, vaccines have been created that give us both hope and apprehension. In my case, all I felt was hope and gratitude when a complete stranger jabbed me with a potentially life-saving, 0.3 ml of pure gold.
I understand why some people are apprehensive about this vaccine, especially after Quebec decided it will disregard Pfizer's recommendation that a second dose be given between 21 and 28 days after the first. But in the context of what is happening right now in this province, what choice does the government have other than to vaccinate as many people as it can as quickly as possible?
Already many nurses have left the profession due to the stresses of dealing with this illness. Frankly, I cannot blame them. Thousands of health-care workers are off sick with either burnout or COVID itself, and this has left us with a worrisome shortage of soldiers to fight this war.
I agree it would be better to get the second dose the way it was meant to be done. But when the nurse told me I'd be called to arrange a date, I was not upset. I know it might not be until March or later. But I firmly believe that with the first dose already circulating in my body, I will avoid ending up in an ICU. In these terribly uncertain times, I feel that's the best we can hope for.
Right after I got the vaccine I felt my eyes begin to tear. I told the stranger: “If I could, I'd give you a hug.” She responded: “I gracefully accept your virtual hug, thank you.”
Despite being a lifelong insomniac, I ended up sleeping in on Sunday morning. When I woke up, I felt great. My shoulder was not even sore. Nathan Friedland, Roxboro