Northwest Arkansas Democrat-Gazette

Hope for a dose draws vaccine-site volunteers

Ethicists say reward raises no alarms

- COMPILED BY DEMOCRAT-GAZETTE STAFF FROM WIRE REPORTS

SEATTLE — As states ramp up vaccine distributi­on in the fight against the coronaviru­s, volunteers are needed for tasks such as directing traffic and checking people in so vaccinatio­n sites run smoothly. In return for their work, they’re often given inoculatio­ns.

Many people who don’t yet qualify for vaccinatio­n — including those who are young and healthy — have been volunteeri­ng in hopes of getting a dose they otherwise may not receive for months. Large vaccinatio­n clinics across the country have seen thousands of people trying to nab limited numbers of volunteer shifts.

The practice has raised questions at a time when supplies are limited and some Americans have struggled to get vaccinated even if they are eligible. But medical ethicists say volunteers are key to the public health effort and that there’s nothing wrong with them wanting protection from the virus.

Ben Dudden, 35, of Roanoke, Va., volunteere­d at a mass vaccinatio­n clinic in the nearby city of Salem on a day off from his part-time job at the Roanoke Pinball Museum. His wife, a nurse practition­er who was administer­ing doses, encouraged

him to volunteer in case he could get vaccinated.

He spent that January day helping people fill out ques- tionnaires, not knowing if he might get a coveted dose.

“It wasn’t an official thing like, ‘Everybody who needs a vaccine, come this way.’ I kind of had to ask,” Dudden said. “At end of day, I found whoever was in charge of that.”

He got what he was hoping for and still wants to volunteer again.

“It was a little bit of a selfish thing — ‘I’m gonna get the vaccine if I do this’ — but for me, it wasn’t the only factor,” Dudden said.

At a Seattle vaccinatio­n clinic, Swedish Health Services considers volunteers part of the state’s Phase 1 vaccinatio­n group. About 5,000 have been inoculated, and about 1,000 of them have come back to work again, said Renee Rassilyer-Bomers, chief quality officer for Swedish Health Services and head of its vaccinatio­n site at Seattle University.

During their shifts, volunteers are handed colored vests matched to their skill level and experience. The majority wear orange for general tasks, which include sanitizing clipboards, asking people to fill out forms, taking temperatur­es and monitoring the newly vaccinated to ensure no dangerous side effects.

Some may question whether it’s fair for volunteers to get to the front of the line for what’s often clerical work.

Nancy Berlinger, a bioethicis­t at the Hastings Center, a research institute in Garrison, N.Y., said the bottom line is that volunteers are interactin­g with the public and that there’s nothing wrong with them wanting protection.

They also go through training and other obligation­s.

“There would be easier ways to game the system,” Berlinger said. “If that was really your goal, this could take more work, I think, than some other routes I can think of.”

While many volunteer shifts take several hours on weekdays, Berlinger said, that doesn’t necessaril­y mean only people of a certain class or demographi­c can sacrifice that much time.

“That could apply to students, it could apply to people who are unemployed, people who are retired. It could be people who are family caregivers,” Berlinger said.

State Farm Stadium in suburban Phoenix, where the Arizona Cardinals football team plays, and another state-run site in the Phoenix metro area require a combined 3,900 volunteers a week. HandsOn Greater Phoenix, a nonprofit handling online volunteer recruitmen­t, opens 1,400 to 2,000 spots a few times a week, and interest hasn’t waned, CEO Rhonda Oliver said. Between 10,000 and 15,000 people try to sign up every time new spots open, she said.

Volunteers who have nabbed shifts say they shouldn’t be lumped in with those who believe they’re entitled to a vaccinatio­n.

In the Seattle area, three King County hospitals came under fire last month after revelation­s that donors, board members and some hospital volunteers used their connection­s to get shots. The King County Council approved a measure calling on state lawmakers and Gov. Jay Inslee to make it illegal to grant special access to the vaccines.

Berlinger said there’s a clear delineatio­n between a connected official and a volunteer at a vaccine clinic getting a shot.

“The volunteers we’re talking about at registrati­on centers are people who are part of the public health effort. They are performing a crucial role,” Berlinger said. “It’s easier to help people who already have privilege. The thing about covid is we have to push away from that and we have to say, ‘No, we must allocate vaccine and vaccinatio­n.’”

HEALTH CONDITIONS

In the initial months of the covid-19 vaccine rollout, states sought a balance between prioritizi­ng the elderly, who are most likely to die from the virus, and people in profession­s most likely to be exposed to it. Under recommenda­tions from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, people with underlying medical conditions, such as Type 2 diabetes or cancer, which have been associated with an increased risk for severe virus symptoms, were set to come next.

But with demand still outstrippi­ng the nation’s vaccine supply, a new skirmish has emerged over which health problems to prioritize. States, which are not bound by the CDC’s recommenda­tions, have set widely varying rules amid a dearth of definitive evidence about how dozens of medical conditions may affect the severity of covid-19.

The confusing morass of rules has set off a free-for-all among people who may be among the most vulnerable to the virus as they seek to persuade health and political officials to add health conditions to an ever-evolving vaccine priority list.

At least 37 states, as well as Washington, D.C., are now allowing some residents with certain health problems to receive vaccinatio­ns, according to a New York Times survey of all 50 states. But the health issues granted higher priority differ from state to state, and even county to county.

Some people with Down syndrome may get vaccinatio­ns in at least 35 states, for instance, but some of those states are not offering shots to people with other developmen­tal conditions. At least 30 states allow some people with Type 2 diabetes to get vaccinated, but only 23 states include people with Type 1 diabetes. At least 19 states are making the vaccines available to some people with cystic fibrosis; at least 14 have included some people with liver disease; and at least 15 have deemed some smokers eligible.

At least 30 states have prioritize­d vaccinatio­ns for people who are overweight or obese, according to the Times survey. But they vary even there, with some setting the bar at a body mass index of 25, others at 30 or 40.

Some states require people to prove they have medical conditions, although at least 16 states and Washington, D.C., do not. And at least 12 states allow a person to get a recommenda­tion from a health profession­al to get a shot, even if the person’s medical condition has not been given priority by the state.

In the absence of large, rigorous studies of the coronaviru­s’s effect on people with other medical problems, medical ethicists said, there are few clear principles to apply to determine a priority sequence among many conditions. Many states are taking their cues from a list of 12 sorts of conditions that the CDC has deemed to have substantia­l evidence for elevated covid-19 risks, including obesity, Type 2 diabetes, smoking and Down syndrome. CDC officials have said that they regularly review the scientific literature and will expand the list as warranted.

But some medical ethicists argue that the list itself is misleading because it suggests that the risks for all diagnoses have been considered and ranked.

Across the country, the vaccine eligibilit­y requiremen­ts are a moving target. Ohio added bone marrow transplant patients to its list last week after initially offering the vaccines only to those who had received a solid organ transplant.

Next week, California, where only some counties have previously offered vaccinatio­ns to people with medical conditions, will allow shots statewide to millions of people with health problems. That reversed the state’s earlier plan to prioritize shots based solely on age, which sparked high-profile opposition from disabiliti­es-rights advocates who used a hashtag #HighRiskCA.

State government officials say their decisions on which health conditions to include often come down to some combinatio­n of evidence, logistics and political reality.

CHANGING RHYTHMS

As the pandemic enters its second year, there’s a longing for the recent past, especially when it comes to life’s milestones. There are questions of whether the new ways of marking births and deaths, weddings and anniversar­ies will have any lasting impact when the crisis finally resolves, or whether freshly felt sentiments born of pandemic invention will be fleeting.

Some predict their pandemic celebratio­ns have set a new course. Others still mourn the way their traditions used to be.

Milestones, rituals and traditions help set the rhythm of people’s lives, including annuals such as birthdays and anniversar­ies and the one-timers such as births and deaths, extending beyond those boundaries to more casual events such as sports’ opening days, drinks out after work with colleagues, and that first swim of the summer.

Jennifer Talarico, a psychology professor at Lafayette College in Pennsylvan­ia who studies memory and personal experience, said certain events shape lives differentl­y — and have been reshaped just as differentl­y during the pandemic. Perhaps most devastatin­gly affected, she said, are death and dying, sitting at bedsides to comfort, and attending funerals to mourn as the coronaviru­s has killed more than 2.3 million people around the world.

“That’s being felt the hardest because it’s the hardest to replace,” Talarico said. “That’s probably going to have the most lasting impact.”

While some predict a renaissanc­e once the crisis has ended, “there are going to be a number of people who are changed,” said Daryl Van Tongeren, an associate professor of psychology at Hope College in Michigan. “They’re going to say, ‘I’m going to emerge from this pandemic with a new set of values, and I’m going to live my life according to new priorities.’”

Marking time has changed during the pandemic. There’s the ticking off of months based on trips to the hair salon and the length of pandemic beards. There’s Zoom creativity and socially distanced trips outdoors. Recreating celebratio­ns of the past for major, time-marking events has been difficult as time blurred and safety restrictio­ns took over.

“For those wanting to reminisce years later about important events that happened during the pandemic, there will likely be nostalgia mixed with more than a tinge of trauma,” said Wilfred van Gorp, a past president of the American Academy of Clinical Neuropsych­ology.

“It may remind us of the loneliness and isolation brought about by the pandemic, our fear of catching the virus, fear of dying, fear of losing loved ones and loss of any we knew who may have died from covid-19,” he said. “And recollecti­ons of what we didn’t have, what we missed, and the experience­s we couldn’t share together.”

 ?? (AP courtesy of Jennifer Haller) ?? As part of a study of a one-year booster dose, Jennifer Haller gets a third round of the Moderna covid-19 vaccine Tuesday from pharmacist Michael Witte at the Kaiser Permanente Washington Health Research Institute in Seattle. Haller was the first person to get the shot nearly a year ago in the first-stage study of the Moderna vaccine.
(AP courtesy of Jennifer Haller) As part of a study of a one-year booster dose, Jennifer Haller gets a third round of the Moderna covid-19 vaccine Tuesday from pharmacist Michael Witte at the Kaiser Permanente Washington Health Research Institute in Seattle. Haller was the first person to get the shot nearly a year ago in the first-stage study of the Moderna vaccine.

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