Tag: vaccine

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Side effects. The price of protection.

I’ve just “recovered” from the first dose of Pfizer’s coronavirus vaccine. You are probably curious about that. So here’s a report.

I was vaccinated Monday at 9 am. Shortly after the needle jab, I felt lightheaded in a pleasant sort of way. I sat down, and in 20 minutes I was fine.

After lunch I noticed my arm was sore, and I started to feel cold. I put on my quilted flannel shirt and resumed meeting with patients. By mid afternoon I was tired, achy and feverish. But I felt well enough to finish the workday.

When I got home I took a two hour nap. I had a headache and chills and felt like I had a mild flu. I took my temperature. It was 99.1 F.

I went to bed again. I tossed and turned and woke up in the middle of the night thirsty. On the way to the kitchen I took my temperature, which was up a tenth of a degree. I washed down 400 mg of ibuprofen with a big glass of water and returned to bed.

The next morning I felt sluggish but fever free. The headache was gone and my arm was no longer sore. At work I had some “brain fog”. Everything took longer, and I made more mistakes than I usually do. But by evening I felt back to normal.

I tell you my side effects to encourage you to get the vaccine as soon as you can. The shot might keep you from everyday activities for two days. But Covid-19 will take you out for two weeks— if you’re lucky enough to have a “mild” case. If you have a severe case, count on being gone six weeks, and prepare to deal with very uncomfortable and debilitating symptoms like high fevers that last weeks, body aches like you’ve never had before, extreme weakness and fatigue, complete loss of appetite, losing your sense of taste and smell, and difficulty breathing. Or death.

The vaccine didn’t keep me from working, while Covid-19 put me on short term disability.

I’d rather bet on side effects than symptoms. The one is an unruly cat scratching at my legs. The other is a jaguar waiting to pounce on my back.

I’d rather bet on what will protect me from the jaguar, even if that costs me some discomfort. I hope you’ll make the same choice.

— Nelsonia

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Vaccinated. Doing my part.

“Three. Two. One. Poke.” The nurse said quietly. I felt the jab less than I usually would because I was getting my picture taken. Pfizer’s Covid vaccine was flowing into my arm muscles. I was holding my thumb up while I stood sideways to the iPhone—for modesty’s sake. I had to take my shirt half off to expose enough arm to the needle.

“Looks good,” my colleague said. I buttoned up and stepped away from the injection station.

I felt suddenly light headed. My throat the slightest bit scratchy. Am I getting an allergic reaction? I wondered.

I reported the light headedness and was told to sit down and not leave for half an hour. A colleague came over and sat with me. She wasn’t feeling very well either. Nauseous. Faint. A bit pale.

I was not the least bit concerned for myself. If I had fainted I wouldn’t have worried. Even if I had required an epi drip and a night or two in the hospital, I wouldn’t have cared. Well, maybe then. But I’ve had Covid and I’ve personally witnessed the disease in many others, and I can tell you, almost anything is better than coming down with Covid-19.

Lightheaded is called emergency use. Fainting is called health care workers can’t wait to get the vaccine because of what we have seen and heard. This is called science and gathering data to improve the vaccine.

I thanked the nurses for giving me the shot. “You don’t know how much this means to me,” I said with teary eyes. They nodded. “You’re going to make me cry,” one of them said tearfully. I turned my head. The other nurse was crying too.

Everyone at the hospital knows I was critically ill with Covid-19 back in early April. They know what this vaccine means. Protection. Freedom. Victory.

But the vaccine means still more to me. It represents a means of service.

Yes, I have some natural immunity to Covid-19. But how much and for how long? Is the vaccine safe and effective for those who’ve already been sick? I want to be part of the field research on these questions. I want to do my part.

I’m glad I got vaccinated today. And I plan on getting my second dose on January 12 as scheduled. I hope the vaccine works as well as the data indicates. I hope it’s safe enough that people will take it. I have lots of hope on both counts.

Now let the data gathering begin.

— Nelsonia