Even with vaccine availability, we are still a long way from "herd immunity," if we ever get there

 

I admit that I was on the fence about getting a COVID-19 vaccination shot. Save for a couple of normal sinus flare-ups, I haven’t felt “sick” at all since the pandemic started. I did everything I was supposed to do: wear a mask in public and at work, and even outside  when there was no one around. I don’t “hang out” with people during my off-hours, so I wasn’t around people who might have the virus. Besides, “only” 10 percent of the population has officially tested positive for the virus, so there is this notion that some people are more “immune” than others.

For the past couple of months I have walked past the ShoWare Center in Kent, which is housing an official King County vaccination site; I saw long lines outside the building, which was sufficient to dissuade me. Anyways, you read news reports about people getting sick and even dying after getting a shot. I’m thinking “I’ve been feeling perfectly fine, and what if my system reacts negatively if something like this is injected in my body now?”

Then last week the lines disappeared and the electronic billboard was telling people that walk-in appointments were now allowed. That kind of changed things; I didn’t have that excuse anymore, or to wait in line to do any thinking. Just walk in, and get the hell out. I was off on Friday, so I decided to mosey on over, half hoping that there would be those lines again and appointments required. But no such luck, just a few guides standing outside. OK, here we go.

I was directed toward a door and registered at the “guest” table, where I had to provide personal information, and answer a few questions—like what my “race or ethnicity” was. I told the person to put “other”; she persisted in my being more “specific,” suggesting terms like “Latino or Hispanic.” I told her I didn’t know what the hell I was, but I thanked her for providing me her honest assessment of what she thought I was; I don’t want to live in a world of illusion.

Then I went to a table where I was to receive my first dose of the Pfizer vaccine. I rolled up my sleeve, and someone stuck a needle in me that I didn’t even feel go in. I asked this person what would happen if I didn’t get a second shot, and she said “nothing.” After that I was given a note card as a vaccination record, and piece of paper that indicated how long I had to sit in the auditorium (15 minutes) before getting an appointment for a second shot in three weeks.

I asked some guy who was there as a guide how far the needle was supposed to go in, because I hadn’t felt a thing; he indicated that the needle is supposed to go in an inch, which caused me to wonder if I had been given a proper shot. But checking the web on my phone, apparently other people noted that they hadn’t felt the needle go in at all. I felt fortunate that I must be one of those “lucky ones” who didn’t have any side effects from the shot.

But my “luck” ran out about four hours later when I began to feel soreness in my shoulder. That at least convinced me that the shot was “real,” and the soreness lasted for about 24 hours. And that was that. I don’t feel any different than I did before I got the shot—only now I feel I did my duty as a patriotic and responsible citizen and had at least begun the process of being an anonymous number on a spread sheet that moved the state one step closer to “normalcy.”

There have been reports of overflows of vaccine availability throughout the country, such as in Los Angeles, where “walk-ins” are now allowed. This isn’t actually a “good” thing, since reports indicate that people are simply not coming in to be vaccinated. As of today, the CDC vaccination tracker indicates that no state is even close to having 50 percent of the eligible population fully vaccinated. Only eight states are above 40 percent, and the state of Washington is only at 36 percent.

Of the states hardest hit by COVID deaths, New Jersey is at 41 percent, South Dakota and New York are at 39 percent, Pennsylvania and Michigan are at 36 percent, California is at 35 percent, Florida is at 32 percent, and Texas is at 30 percent. Tennessee is at only 27 percent, and—naturally—Mississippi brings up the rear at 25.13 percent. What is with Mississippi, anyways? Does it take “pride” in being last in everything?

Some of these states, mainly in the South, have not taken the pandemic seriously for political reasons, which accounts for their relatively low vaccination rates. We can assume that in Florida, where people are actually attacked for continuing to wear face-masks, people are just following their “leader,” and in Texas—where Hispanics account for half the COVID-related deaths—“outreach” hasn’t exactly been a priority by the virus-denying Republican state government and the lack of availability of  affordable health care for low-income people in that anti-ACA state.

As for Mississippi, The New York Times is reporting that half of Republicans say they have no plans on being vaccinated, while only four percent of Democrats in the state say they will not consider vaccination. Black Mississippians have still received vaccinations at a lower rate per their population than whites, and misinformation about the vaccines appear to be rampant. One Mississippi physician, Dr. Vernon Rayford, noted that while blacks feared the health care system, white refusal to be vaccinated was based on distrust of the government. Mississippi health officials are in fact obliged to focus their attention on blacks and Hispanics, because whites in Mississippi only seem willing to listen to Republican Gov. Tate Reeves, who has been a COVID “skeptic.”

It is estimated that from 70 to 90 percent of the adult population must be vaccinated for “herd immunity” to be effective. In regard to that, The Times notes that a recent survey by the Kaiser Family Foundation shows that only 55 percent of blacks, 61 percent of Hispanics and 64 percent of whites have been or intend on being vaccinated. As the CDC statistics show, we still have a long way to go before we even reach that level of intended vaccination, let alone the level that is needed for herd immunity.

Of course, we could go the way of India, Brazil, Mexico and Sweden (or, for that matter, South Dakota), which provide examples of how a politically-controlled health care system by Republicans would work, where hundreds of thousands (or more likely, millions) of “useless eaters” would be sacrificed so that the privileged and well-off can keep partying.