Cowpoke
2021-05-18
the title is a pun about how "vaccine" means ‘cow pustules’, referencing the first innoculation being done for cowpox, mixed with "poke"
if you don’t find that funny you’re probably a normal person
Hesitancy
I know a few people who have "vaccine hesitancy", specifically around the SARS-cov2 virus. These are folks who have a full battery of the usual vaccines, and whose kids are otherwise vaccinated, who are uneasy with the prospect of getting an intramuscular stab with a brand-new vaccine mechanism (mRNA delivery) which hasn’t been approved by the FDA or tested hardly at all. Many of these people are medical workers, and understand how scary those words can be.
For my part, though, I see it very similar to the same situation we had exactly a year ago.
Risk
In May 2020, we had a couple months of data showing how SARS-cov2 (i wish we called it hcov2, some organizations do and it makes much more sense and is faster to write) worked. We knew it was only serious for those 65+ or with severe underlying health conditions, knew it had <1% deathrate, had no long-lasting health impacts, and generally acted like a cold. There were people who got their information from journalists who might believe otherwise, but that was all well-understood by May 2020.
Now, my position was (and has been) that herd immunity is the only option. As many healthy people as possible should be innoculated (yes, that means pox parties) so that they can become immune and prevent passage to older people. The only danger of this virus was its novelty - most of us have never been exposed to a SARS variant before, and so our immune systems are unprepared to deal with it. The best way to solve that is to expose them. We got quite lucky that this strain was not developed to be very deadly, because it makes herd immunity a lot easier to achieve. Once immune, a person can donate convalescent blood plasma, which is used as a therapeutic to boost the immune response of those struggling with covid-19.
Not a wild position, i know. Anyone paying attention with any familiarity with public health or epidemiology would have understood the same.
It’s the same today
My proposition to people worried about the vaccine is that we’re in the exact same boat today as we were a year ago, just with a vaccine instead of a virus.
We’ve got a few months of data indicating the vaccine is generally safe for anyone healthy. You’ll have a stiff arm for a few days, a low-grade fever, and generally feel like shit - but you’ll be fine. There are cases where people with health issues died from the vaccine, there are side-effects like clotting (and, by extension, strokes) that can be serious; but they’re excessively rare. Overall getting the vaccine will give you good immunity to the original strains of the virus, and generally solve the problem.
How is that different?
Last year you could’ve contracted it and been sick for a week, this year you can get a vaccine and be less sick for a few days. The risks seem comparable, if not strongly tilted towards the vaccine being an easier recovery.
Long term risk
Generally people worry about the future. What if the vaccine has non-obvious contraindications? After all, lots of things we now understand to be heinous (asbestos, leaded gasoline) were originally approved to be as safe as this vaccine is. How do we know this isn’t going to screw us?
Well, we don’t. But there’s nothing to indicate that it will. Anything could happen, but that doesn’t mean it’s likely to happen.
I can’t begrudge anyone who doesn’t accept that. The effects and risks of covid are quite understood at present, and it’s not wrong to take a "better the devil you know" approach to your health. That should, of course, be everyone’s right - at no point should your choices with your body preclude you from what everyone else gets to do (looking at you, vaccine "passports").
But i also don’t worry about it. I was willing to be infected all last year, I’m willing to be vaccinated this year. Who better to try it?
