Robert Cairns: Vaccination brings huge sense of relief

Mar. 5—I got my first dose of the COVID-19 vaccine this week. It's hard to describe how that feels.

Joy is not too strong a word. Relief fits, for sure.

I've written before about how I lost friends to the virus. I've lost more since and a couple recently. Anger and sadness are companions that have long since overstayed their welcome. Like most of us, I've spent the past year knowing that an encounter with the wrong person, or touching the wrong surface at the wrong time could turn me into one of the statistics we run in this newspaper each day.

It's like some macabre lottery. You don't expect to hit it but, as the ad campaign used to say, "Hey, you never know."

Of course, that's just the worst of it. There's also the merely bad of it — the isolation from loved ones, the loss of activities and events we enjoy, the masks. I've come to view those as small prices to pay to avoid being among the more than half-million Americans who are no longer among us because of COVID-19.

I was elated when my daughters, both health care workers, got their vaccinations. I was thrilled when my wife told me she had her appointment. Above anyone else in the world, I wanted them protected.

I didn't care so much about myself. I've always viewed death as something that's going to come sooner or later, and have just hoped it would be quick and relatively painless.

That view changed radically over the past couple weeks, as one of the aforementioned friends progressed from diagnosed to hospitalized, then to intubated and, finally, gone.

His wife posted updates on social media each day, begging for the prayers she hoped would save him. Her anguish shone clearly through her typed words.

I don't want my wife to go through that. If I can spare her from it, I'm all in.

So, newly eligible for the vaccine, I joined the hordes scouring the internet for vaccination appointments. I got lucky and got registered. Then, I rolled up a sleeve and got it done.

Having a basic understanding of science, I know that it will take several weeks and a second dose before immunity kicks in. But still, it somehow feels like the Sword of Damocles (look it up, if you need to) no longer hangs above me.

I shake my head at those who refuse the vaccine. There are the truly crazy — the ones who think Bill Gates is using it to insert microchips into us, or that it will rewrite our DNA — and the merely silly, those who use the argument, "I don't know what's in that stuff" as they stuff their faces with mystery meats and processed foods full of chemicals they can't pronounce.

Those same people carry microchips everywhere they go, in their cellphones. As for rewriting DNA, if that was a real thing, I'd say "bring it on." I'd like to be taller. Maybe do something about my male pattern baldness or the comorbidity that made me eligible in the first place.

Can your chips do that, Bill? Please?

Beyond the purely selfish motives — the desire to avoid a painful, lingering death and having my family watch it happen — I'm happy to be doing my part to bring on "herd immunity." I'm glad that I will not be the reason someone else, perhaps someone I don't even know, suffers a painful, lingering death while his or her family watches.

That's just simple consideration for others, a part of living in a society. It shouldn't be too much to ask, though it seems to be for many.

Not being a demonstrative guy, I resisted the urge to dance once the shot was done. I smiled, though, and I think I'll walk a little straighter and taller now, feeling like I'm carrying a lot less weight on my shoulders.

Robert Cairns is the managing editor of The Daily Star. He can be reached at rcairns@thedailystar.com or 607-441-7217.