Dan Haar: COVID-19 vaccine raises moral dilemma.
My COVID vaccine dilemma started at the stroke of 12:01 a.m. Monday: Take the shot right away, or wait?
Right away, that is, if I could find an appointment along with the rest of the 600,000 Connecticut residents who just joined the list of eligibles.
Here’s the moral dilemma: I’m extremely active with no health issues that would make a case of COVID-19 worse, thankfully. I have a job that’s mostly distanced. I planned on getting the vaccine in midto late spring when my turn came — after true front-line workers, people with health problems, people who live with someone vulnerable and the worried well.
Then, thanks to Gov. Ned Lamont’s decision last week to go with age groups as the order (along with teachers and other school employees) my time suddenly arrived. I’m well over 55, the new cutoff.
Considering all that, I should hang back for a while and let people who have a life-and-death need for the vaccine jump in — cancer patients, grocery workers and delivery drivers in my age group, obese smokers — right?
What’s my rush? I feel safe in well run restaurants and supermarkets. In a few short weeks we’ll be overrun with vaccines exceeding demand anyway. Maybe by then I can choose the brand I prefer.
I put the question to my Facebook friends. The vast majority of more than 100 who commented made it clear: Take the vaccine now. As in ASAP, no delay. The closer to me they were, the blunter.
“People younger than you in perfect health have died ... obviously get it,” my daughter wrote.
“Get it, you moron,” my brother in St. Louis said. “I'm turning 65 in 2 weeks and I can’t get it. And I have asthma.”
One close friend from college simply posted the hashtag, “#gettheshot,” and a dude named Colin said, “Get your shots, puppy.” A retired former colleague posted, “If we dial 1-800 guilt, will we get you?”
Well, yeah. With 25 percent of all unvaccinated adults in Connecticut coming eligible at once, many signing up immediately, I figure tens of thousands in the 55-plus crowd need a dose of Pfizer, Moderna or the new Johnson & Johnson protection a lot worse than I do.
I believe strongly in minimal health intervention and self-healing. I even avoided antibiotics for six months when I had Lyme disease four years ago before eventually giving in to the toxic miracle of doxycycline.
To be clear, I’m not opposed to vaccines and I do understand that this exercise is about population health and herd immunity, not Dan Haar’s lifestyle. I will definitely roll up my sleeves and take the inoculation.
As it’s unfolding, the people signing up first on the user-unfriendly VAMS federal vaccine management system are getting appointments in April. That’s a glitch; at some point, the early March dates have to come open.
Still, the moral dilemma exists. A few of my Facebook folks saw the virtue of standing aside briefly. “Pushing the greater need to the front of the line is the right move,” said one high school friend, though she conceded she’s comfortably isolated.
One Connecticut friend pointed out the hashtag #ctwait3, presumably encouraging healthy people to delay for three days. Another said, “if more people thought as you did our country would be in a much better place.”
This moral dilemma incorporates game theory — who would collect a shot if I were to step aside? — as well as the responsibility I take on as someone who does venture out. Asked one friend in Colorado: “Aren't you concerned of making a lot of people sick?”
My high school tennis team buddy wondered, “If altruism is your mantra, you might be more content knowing that should you contract, you’d be less likely to tie up a hospital resource.”
And another friend who knows me very well: “Um, your job requires you to connect with a myriad of people from all socioeconomic walks of life, including Republicans who don’t wear masks.”
Then there’s fate, as my daughter implied. Who am I to say I need the vaccine less urgently? This from a much younger fellow writer who almost died of COVID: “Let me be a lesson that you can think you are doing everything right to protect yourself, and it can still get you. Get your shot!”
Some posted that Lamont brought this on by jeopardizing the lives of people most affected by coronavirus, including urban Black and Latino communities. I don’t buy that argument, as the age system will reach the majority of the most vulnerable faster, not slower.
Besides, the moral dilemma is even more acute in states like New York, where 10 million people are eligible at the same time, including vast swaths of unhealthy residents and front-line workers.
Two friends pointed out the New York Times “Ethicist” columnist, Kwame Anthony Appiah, wrote that a non-front-line health care worker should not delay, thinking he’s doing good.
OK, so I signed into VAMS at exactly 12:01 a.m., and received the coveted email allowing me to sign up — only to find the soonest vaccination dates fell in April.
April, seriously? So much for the wiseguy (from the news business, of course) who posted, “Ayn Rand says put your spot up for sale to the highest secret bidder.” If the system is totally unpredictable then there’s no market — for money or morality.
Maybe I should just throw up my hands and sign up today, take a later appointment and leave the early vaccinations for the needier people who sign up later. In the end, my smart lawyer friend said it best: “While I appreciate your altruism, I believe the greater good is served by you taking your turn and letting the system roll on.”
She’s right, just let it roll. The moral of this moral tale: You get what you get in the chaos of coronavirus.