I spent the day after receiving my second (covid-19) vaccination resting and reflecting while the soreness passed.

I will soon be considered "fully vaccinated," and everyone from the CDC to my family, friends and neighbors has a different idea of what that means. Many friends now wish to hug, eat in a restaurant with me, or be indoors unmasked with me. 

To which I reply, "Thank you, but please give me a moment to figure out how I feel about all this."

It's a lot to think about.

I spent nine months as the (very careful) caregiver for Jeff, who was born with a primary immune deficiency.  I am proud that the precautions we took in our small community here on the farm helped keep Jeff covid-free for the remainder of his life.  During his final months he suffered greatly but he did not have to endure the corona virus and the terrible end it would surely have brought to his life.

Last year I was the only person in Jeff’s “bubble,” or “pod,” and since his death I have been the only person in my own.  I have had plenty of contact with others outside and at a distance, or masked if indoors at a doctor’s appointment or in a store.

Pardon me if I cannot proceed directly from 15 months of strict precautions to no precautions, especially on a promise of not-quite-full immunity, concerning a therapy about which we don’t yet know very much.

If Jeff were alive today, I would still be the only person in his bubble, and I would have to be as vigilant as ever.  A vaccine is completely ineffective for someone like Jeff, whose body does not make antibodies.  He was missing the part of the immune system which responds to the vaccine and works to create immunity.  He simply had no vaccine response.  If Jeff were still with us he would have to continue being extra careful to avoid infection.  He wouldn’t be able to shop in stores, travel by public transportation, see a movie, or gather with others indoors, even masked.  He wouldn’t be able to eat at a restaurant. He would not be able to touch others or accept a hug.  And neither would I.

There are many people living with Primary Immunodeficiencies.  Some may feel a bit safer now since their friends and families are vaccinated, but since they cannot receive the vaccine themselves, they remain at high risk.  Their lives have changed for ever.

Maybe I hesitate to let go of my precautionary regimen because of the deep connection I feel to Jeff.  Maybe I think it’s important to be careful for the sake of the many persons who are still at risk. 

Whatever.

I hope that no-one will ever be shamed for passing up a handshake or a hug, for declining an invitation to a restaurant, or for continuing to wear masks while grocery shopping. I hope everyone will be encouraged to protect themselves as they see fit. 

Didn’t we all learn some important lessons last year about respecting diversity?

Onward.