“GOING HARD AND EARLY” is the catchphrase of New Zealand’s Labour government against covid, and so far it’s worked. I’m not much for statistics but I do know that in absolute terms (raw numbers) and in proportion to population, New Zealand is in the top five in the herculean battle against the Virus.
That’s the big picture. I want to tell you about my personal Vax experience, for lack of a catchier term. I will always be pro-Vax, through and through, no ifs and buts about it. Overwhelming evidence and overwhelming science just backs it up. The reason we’re all safe against so many diseases that killed mankind in the millions is because of Vax, and no amount of fake news and pseudo-science can convince me otherwise.
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BUT, days before my scheduled Vax appointment, small doubts crept up the back of my amygdala. That business end of the Vax, that needle that stabs me through the skin, through the muscle and almost to the bone, attaches to very deep-seated fears and emotions that goes all the way to childhood, when the anticipation and wild imaginings were worse than the prick itself.
What about all those irrational scenarios scaring people into believing that they would die one year after Vax, or that the adverse effects outweighed the intended benefit? I knew all these were stupid and baseless, circulating in the internet behind the facade of authoritative and academic sounding studies, but when you yourself become the guinea pig, the irrational suddenly becomes less so.
Sweeping these silly fears aside, I told myself: everyone I know had either received or would receive the Vax. It had already saved millions, and even assuming for adverse reactions for say, one in 10,000, that would still be acceptable. No way in heaven or hell I would miss this. And besides, it was free. How could the Pinoy in me refuse a freebie?
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I was 10 minutes early, but because so many people were having their Vax the same day and hour, I could’ve been half an hour late and it wouldn’t have mattered. There were so many staff administering the Vax, I could’ve been delivering pizza and still would’ve been accommodated.
Of course, that’s an exaggeration, but worth trying.
Most of the vaxees were my age (well past thirtysomethings), a few using canes and walkers, but most of them still young enough to use their own teeth. You see, I shared the age group for those under senior citizens, but nearly old enough to be in the risk group. Lumped with our group were frontliners who because of the nature of their jobs were more exposed than everybody else to the Virus. So there were a few Gen Xers and Gen Yers in the Vax center too.
The gatekeeper just asked for my name, didn’t even look at my ID more than a couple seconds, and pointed me to the nurse that was probably on her 4th or 5th Vax of the day. She gave me an antiseptic, professional smile, and asked me if I was left or right-handed. So that my “weak” arm would be the entry point of the Vax that had already saved millions in so little time.
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…AND IN LESS TIME you could say “oxygen tank”, it was all over. Although the needle was scary, it seemed that the Vaxer didn’t even put it in all the way through, the Vax itself seemed so… insubstantial.
(Book the booster, don’t forget!)
I had to stay 20 minutes like everybody else, just in case there was an adverse reaction. No one talked or spoke in the waiting room, although there must’ve been at least 20 of us newly-Vaxed. As if nobody wanted to jinx the newly-saved.
After that, I walked out into the winter sun, safe and healthy again.
Until the next Monster Virus.
