Guest Column: From fear to reassurance: my vaccine experience

By Bazhnibah

Tomorrow will be a new day, a new experience, a new beginning and ending of something. Something new will be introduced into my body. That something new is the COVID-19 vaccine.

It will be like eating a new food or liquid that will be introduced to my mouth and body. Only this new thing goes right into my muscle!

It will quickly be absorbed by my whole being. How will my body accept it and how will I respond once it enters my body? My body will experience it for the first time. Will my body forgive me? It will just take maybe a couple of seconds to enter my arm yet take time to travel throughout my body.

Will other substances in my body hate it, reject it? How will I feel?

I have gotten the flu, herpes zoster, tetanus, polio, mumps, rubella, diphtheria, pertussis, pneumovax, hepatitis b, typhoid, yellow fever, anthrax and whatever else I was inoculated with in my past.

It will be a new day to inoculate my body with one more new drug. I am one of many who will experience this for the first time. I will be one of many who will be scared but relieved when I get my first and second doses of the COVID-19 vaccine knowing that I will survive this horrible pandemic virus in my lifetime.

Because of my age and medical history, I know that I would not survive this virus, like my brother who did not survive it. He was only two years older than I. I lost an aunt too from this evil.

As night falls, my mind wanders to “I’m getting vaccinated tomorrow.” Thoughts of my last immunization (shingles) kept coming up; the injection site pain, the days of arm swelling and redness, the hot arm and pain upon movement were not pleasant.

Tomorrow will be a new day. Tomorrow will mark me as a new person with one more injection.

Already I feel it may be like a scene out of a movie. Will I become a hardened woman full of injection sites and drugs pumped into her body? Will I become a robot with mechanical means of movement? Or like a junkie full of foreign substances in her frail body?

I have walked all year to become fit and a tad healthier. I am hoping that all my walking contributes to a healthy reaction to the foreign substance and helps me to maintain at least 94% immunity to the coronavirus.

I have made up my mind to receive the vaccine. I am thinking that by getting this COVID-19 vaccine I will experience less of the horror of getting the actual virus. Of course, I still must wear a mask, socially distance, and wash/sanitize my hands. I am ready for the vaccine, I tell myself. And I drift off to sleep past midnight.

It is morning! It is the next new day!

My clock wakes me up at 0600 hours. I pop out of bed and take a few deep breaths and stretch a little to get my blood flowing.

Today is the day. Today I will be a new woman, a new person with my umpteenth vaccine, a foreign substance invited into my body once again.

As a young “elderly” I think back to my infant “shots” and wonder how my mother coped with me getting injected with these substances to prevent me from getting X, Y, and Z diseases and illnesses.

In childhood, I imagine I got more inoculations, then every 10 years for tetanus. In nursing school, I learned all about these shots. I got more vaccinations as I went to work as an RN for the first time.

Wow, I must be so lucky and healthy that my body is full of protection. As I entered the military, I got even more vaccines. “Officer, this is for your health,” they said.

I thought I had no choice when I raised my right hand then as I swore that “… I will obey …” So both my arms got this and that shot.

You would think I would have scars from all these injections on my arms! Mentally, yes, I must be scarred from all the injections.

As I drive in the cold windy weather, I am grateful that the roads are not icy, but dry. There were reports of heavy snow beginning today but all is clear. Approaching my destination, the sun is just rising with beautiful orange and pink colors with fluffy clouds. How many people will be in line? For sure I would not be the first one to show for the 600 available doses of the vaccine today.

As I drive closer, I see at least 50 vehicles already in line and I get in line about a mile down the road. I had brought a book to read and a crossword puzzle to entertain myself with while I waited.

Suddenly we start moving. It has been two-and-a-half hours of waiting. As I get closer in the long vaccination line, I am little apprehensive. An ambulance zooms past me. What could go wrong? Edging closer, I think my heart is a couple of beats faster.

I am updated on my “chart” and asked some routine hospital questions by health care staff as I swing into the circular line. I am wearing two masks. I was glad that I wore two because the staff got close to me, less than two-sheep length for sure. I am not trusting anyone. I must protect myself and protect others from me, I tell myself.

Then I am told to park in an open parking spot and that a health care worker will come get me. She is literally by my car as I swing into a space. She walks me into the large building. She is so comforting walking beside me. I walk in and see what is going on.

The mass vaccinations are taking place. I am patient No. 174 – or was it No. 170?

I notice many people spaced apart sitting on chairs. I count five rows of six. They are waiting post-injection to be assessed for any immediate signs of reactions to the vaccine in the first 20 minutes. I count 16 injection stations with nurses and physical therapists teaching, giving information leaflets, and giving injections.

I remember giving mass flu injections once about six years ago before I retired! Wow, this mass event is similar. Everything seems to be going smoothly. I am still anxious and jump as a health worker states, “You are getting the Pfizer vaccine.”

I barely hear her asking me about any “allergic reactions … had I gotten a positive COVID-19 test? Had I …” Etcetera.

I stay calm and am sort of numb. After my painless right-arm injection, the “contract” nurse ushers me to the waiting area. A worker gets me a chair to sit on. I look around and see many people who are much older than I spaced six feet apart. Everyone has a mask. It is surreal.

My mind goes to Japan. My last trip to Japan was October 2019 where everywhere I went, I saw people wore masks to prevent spread of sneezes and coughs. I had seen this the last two decades visiting Japan and awed by how safe these people were and how they kept others from getting sick! Never did I think I would be wearing a mask every time I went out in public here in the States.

Back to the moment. I wait for anything my body would tell me. My left arm aches. But that is from a November injection. So that does not count, I tell myself. I feel hungry since I had oatmeal almost four hours ago. I am feeling fine after 20 minutes and I get up to leave and look back to more elders waiting post-injection or getting inoculated. I am happy for them knowing that they will get some protection.

The lady in a safety vest checks me out. It is snowing outside now. I feel “normal” as I go into my car. I drive without any pain or any symptoms from the injection. What if I really did not get a vaccine? It has been three hours and 15 minutes from getting my vehicle in the long line to returning to the parked car.

It is over. A new day like any other day this winter, cold and cloudy. The new day is not as thrilling or scary anymore. I drive off, relieved, and go home. I am happy with my vaccination. I touch my arm at the injection site. Nothing. I look at my reflection in the rear-view mirror. I look normal!

The next few hours at home, I get sleepy, so sleepy that I go to bed and fall asleep. Sometime later, I become aware of my surroundings. I have slept two hours!

I wake up with an achy right arm. Now I am feeling something and somehow. Now I feel that I really got the vaccine inside my body. What else will I feel? Will more symptoms come later? I could not sleep on the arm with the injection. What if I go to sleep tonight and wake up different?

I had read all the information that I was given on the signs and symptoms that I could possibly experience. I should be happy with just the site pain. I tossed and turned very slowly due to my arm pain. I know not to take Tylenol or Motrin as it would hinder my immune response from the vaccine. I had read some website information on this too.

So I writhe in pain. Sweet pain, I am alive!

This morning I wake after a long eight-hour sleep and with my arm still sore but surprisingly better. Wow, I got the first unapproved government vaccine, an EUA (Emergency Use Authorization) drug which was offered as an emergency use one. An EUA is a legal means for the Food and Drug Administration to approve new medical treatments during a declared emergency use allowance such as in a pandemic.

The Pfizer-BioNTech COVID-19 vaccine is one that may prevent you from getting COVID-19. There is currently no U.S. FDA-approved vaccine to prevent COVID-19 (CDC Fact Sheet, December 2020).

I will wait for my second booster injection in 20 days. I was given a vaccination record to keep too.

I am glad that this vaccine experience is over, and I hope that I will survive this pandemic and move on with more life experiences, new everyday experiences, and treasure my life with others.

At first, I was anxious because of the unknowns and first-time experience with this vaccine, but as each hour went by post-injection, I got more comfortable. I will be fine. I am hopeful that all of our Diné people will also get vaccinated so that they will not go through many of COVID’s severe symptoms – not being able to breathe well, extreme fatigue, high fever, chills, body aches, loss of taste or smell, or death.

I will be fine. I am resilient, I tell myself. I am Diné and with my ancestors behind me, I will be strong.

Ruth (Bazhnibah) Kawano, is a retired Registered Nurse, MSN, BSN, 0-6 CAPT, USPHS, 0-3 Capt., USAF veteran, and writer, photographer and foreign and domestic traveler.

---