Photo from Unspash by Hakan Nural

I won’t share a selfie of my shot

Here’s Why

Gaylewoodson
7 min readJan 26, 2021

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It was a brief sting followed by a huge sense of so much more than relief. My COVID-19 vaccination has freed me to dream of the future again. For months we have sanitized, masked, missed our friends and family, and lived in fear. It has been said that vaccines are seen as light at end of the tunnel.

That analogy is imperfect. An actual tunnel is a rigid finite structure. We are living in the belly of a beast. The pandemic is dynamic and organic, constantly growing, the exit moving further away as exponential replication begets mutations that have already resulted in variants that are more contagious. Further spread in the population could lead to more lethal mutations. We are in a race to contain the virus by getting vaccinations into millions of arms as rapidly as possible

Vaccine Reluctance

Not everyone is enthusiastic about vaccination. There are, of course, the anti-vaxers, who oppose any immunization. But many are skeptical about safety of novel vaccines that were developed so rapidly. Others see no need for vaccination because their own personal risk of mortality is low. This latter view is disturbing, because the people at least risk of dying are most likely to infect others. Misinformation about the vaccines is rampant, including a rumor that the injection implants a surveillance microchip. Sadly, misinformation and fear of the vaccine is most prevalent in the very populations where the vaccine is needed most, communities of color and low-income neighborhoods.

Building Confidence

Vaccine reluctance was anticipated as a potentially major barrier to the rollout of immunizations. In order to build confidence, news outlets presented videos of the first vaccinations. Government officials and celebrities agreed to receive their shots on live television. Many health care workers, have posted photos of their own vaccinations on social media, including many of my friends and colleagues.

Although we are not on the front lines in caring from COVID-19 patients, my husband and I are both physicians and both over 70, and therefore qualified to be vaccinated along with other clinic personnel. I looked forward to sharing our happiness with friends and family.

The next day on my morning walk, I ran into a friend (socially distancing, of course). She is a flight attendant and told me that her airline was no longer blocking seats and that flights were full. When she asked how we were doing, I told her of our vaccinations. She seemed bewildered. Although she did not say it, I imagined she could be thinking, why you and not me? She expressed concern for her parents and asked me to please let her know of any opportunity to get her parents immunized.

Vaccine Envy is a Thing

Competition for vaccines is fierce. In some hospitals, people at lower risk, including a few who worked from home, were able to skip the line and receive injections before many health care providers on the front lines. Wealthy people are also seeking to “jump the queue.” One “benefactor” asked a hospital whether a donation of $25,000 would ensure that he was vaccinated. An enterprising Canadian executive flew in a private jet to a remote town and posed as a miner so that he and his wife could become vaccinated.

Demand Outstrips Supply

Currently, vaccine reluctance is not the rate limiting factor in the vaccine rollout. All across the country, people clamor to be immunized. In Florida, the vaccine rollout was met with long lines of people, including many seniors who camped out overnight.

After we got our shots, my husband and I were instructed to sit in the lobby for 15 minutes, so that we could be observed for potential allergic reaction., As we waited, person after person come to the door, begging the woman who wielded the temperature gun to help them get a vaccine. They spoke of their age and comorbidities — diabetes, kidney failure, cancer — or made the case for older or more infirm relatives. They reported that phone lines were jammed; that they were desperate. The woman at the door was kind and patient in explaining that she had no power to help them.

Florida recently began offering vaccines in Publix supermarkets. The website for registration opened at 6 am and within minutes, all of the thousands of appointment slots around the state were filled, like steel balls falling into slots in a Pachinko game. Receiving a vaccine is akin to winning a lottery, but the chances of winning in this game are not random. Sadly, people in most need of immunization usually have the least access to it.

Vaccine Disparity

Getting the vaccine to the people most likely to die from COVID-19 is key to reducing the number of deaths. Success in containing the virus will require getting the vaccine to the people who are most likely to become infected and spread the virus. On both counts, the optimal vaccination strategy would prioritize vaccinations for black and Hispanic people.

But There are currently huge racial and ethnic disparities in the impact of this pandemic. Death rates are significantly higher in black and Hispanic populations. The same disparities exist in the vaccine rollout. The Kaiser Family Foundation published the stark data as of January 21, 2021. Below is a portion of that data, from 5 states. Results from all 50 states can be found on their website.

https://www.kff.org/policy-watch/early-state-vaccination-data-raise-warning-flags-racial-equity/

In Mississippi, Black people received for 15% of vaccinations, although they accounted for 38% of cases and 42% of deaths. In Florida, 37% of COVID-19 deaths occur in Hispanics. This group comprises 26% of the state population, but received only 15 percent of the vaccinations. Concerns have been raised that black and brown populations may be less trusting of the vaccine. However, data indicate that attitudes toward immunization do not account for the racial disparities in immunization rates.

The cause for vaccine disparity is multi-factorial. People in lower socioeconomic situations are more likely to be working in essential services, with greater exposure to potential infection, and less time to sit in front of a computer playing Whack-a-Mole to get an appointment. Many do not have internet access. There are fewer vaccination sites.

More disturbingly, vaccination centers in vulnerable communities are being invaded by people from wealthier neighborhoods. A New York Times article reported this trend.

A comprehensive vaccine awareness campaign is needed to encourage everyone to get a shot, to address vaccine hesitancy, and to provide accurate information on how and where to become immunized. Vaccine distribution must be equitable with an emphasis on programs in low income neighborhoods and remote regions. In Florida, vaccines are available at 77 public health sites, 2 churches, and 264 Publix Supermarkets. Publix Supermarkets are not located in low income neighbor hoods.

Publix COVID-19 vaccine lies out of reach for poor, Black Floridians — Orlando Sentinel

I am privileged to be among the small percentage of the population that is fully vaccinated. A selfie of my shot would be salt in the wounds of those who desperately seek a vaccine and would do little to address the concerns of vaccine doubters.

I am grateful to be immunized against COVID-19. One of my earliest memories was a polio shot in 1954. Vaccines rid us of that horrible disease, and I hope that we can have similar success in ending this pandemic.

By David Horsey, Seattle Times

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Gaylewoodson

Gayle Woodson is a semi-retired surgeon/educator. Her award winning novel, After Kilimanjaro, was inspired by her work in Tanzania.