A plea to reconsider altered vaccine schedule

Governor Lamont,

I am a 39-year-old mother with rheumatoid arthritis. This means is that even on a good day, my immune system is dysregulated and, like so many of us making our way through this pandemic, the past year has brought very few good days. For more than 10 years, my condition was well managed but now I exist in a state of almost permanent flare. I often wake to stiff joints and searing pain. Some mornings it’s painful to walk, others I can hardly lift my coffee cup, let alone carry my daughter down the stairs.

In addition to my usual medication that already dampens my immune system, I started taking high doses of corticosteroids about a year ago. Despite the relief it offers me, it also puts me at much greater risk for a severe case should I contract COVID. In fact, I am more likely to die of COVID than the average 55-year-old. So I isolate. I have my groceries delivered. I pick up medications at the pharmacy drive through. But still, I need medical care and bloodwork, and I share the air of waiting rooms with people who spend time at the gym, dine in restaurants, attend church services, Christmas parties and weddings. I worry about every space I encounter.

News of the vaccine gave me hope. And in early January, my doctor told me she expected that because of my suppressed immune system I would be able to register for an appointment within a few days, once all the health care workers were vaccinated. I was happy to wait for all those doctors and nurses and first responders. I disappointed not to be offered an appointment next but still I was happy to see my parents and in-laws and older people all receiving their doses.

But now, it feels like it’s time for people like me, people who are at much greater risk of hospitalization, death or disability. I have been incredibly lucky to be able to isolate as much and as long as I have. Many people with suppressed immune systems, cancers, COPD and the like still have to work. Many need much more inperson medical care than I do. Many don’t have the luxury to pay extra for grocery delivery. A few more weeks, a couple more months to wait may not seem like much to ask of us, but when every extra day is spent trying to simply protect ourselves and stay alive, that wait feels untenable and for some may even prove lethal.

We may not be viewed as contributing as much to society or the economy because we don’t work in schools or drive buses (although some of us do this, too, and are doubly deserving) but to our families, to the people who love us, the people we take care of, we are essential.

In my house, I am the one who makes sure “the best” pajamas are clean before bedtime. I am the one who orders the valentine cards, bakes the birthday cupcakes, plans the meals the satisfy all the picky tastes. I am the only one who knows how to make a “princess ponytail,” the only one with a built in “toddler to English translator.” To my children, I am essential.

So before you vaccinate the young and the healthy simply because of their age or occupation, I implore you to consider people like me.