It felt like staggering across a finish line.
I looked around and saw hundreds of thousands of shadows. The martyrs, the victims of the virus, of our callousness, so many of them Black and Brown. The tens of thousands of study volunteers who offered to go first. I was carried to the finish line by a wave of corpses and champions, but walked across on my own. As I took the step, I looked ahead and saw so many more finish lines, stretching into the distance. As I set my foot down across the line, I saw my colleagues around me, some of them moved to tears, some gazing ahead at the long way to go, some gazing back in sorrow. It looks the same over here, but it feels different.
It felt dramatic. The pain was no more intense than any other vaccine, but this soreness in my arm had an emotional component. Relief. Guilt. Fear. Hope. I was vaccinated three days ago and those have been my main symptoms. Relieved that there may be a light at the end of this incredible darkness. Guilty that I used a dose that someone else needs. Fearful for my patients, family, and community who won’t have access for many more months. Hopeful that enough of us will choose the vaccine to protect those who can’t.
I knew it was safe when I chose to cross that line. I had read through the data. It also seemed remarkably effective, at least after the second dose, and at least for several months. It targets a known “spike” protein on the outside of coronaviruses, one we’ve been studying for a while. I understood how it worked, teaching my body to recognize the spike protein by providing it with an mRNA recipe before the real thing showed up. None of the common vaccines use mRNA, but we’ve been studying them for decades and this is not the first time we’ve tested their safety and efficacy in humans. This is new technology, but it’s not brand new technology.
But there were still many unknowns. How long will the immunity from this vaccine last? Will I need a booster shot? Could there be longer term effects from the harmless spike protein that we haven’t seen yet? Does the vaccine prevent asymptomatic infections? Will Pfizer and BioNTech make record profits from this tragedy or will we equally reward the scientists who have been working for decades on RNA vaccines? Will we continue to ration vital medical care like vaccines based on who can pay for it? Who will take care of those of us who do not make it to the finish line in one piece?
I didn’t know any of those things when I chose to be vaccinated. I still don’t know. But I did know this: we did not make progress this year because fearless people disregarded the consequences of their actions. It was scared people, who chose to act bravely in spite of the consequences, who flattened the curve, reduced our case fatality rate, and made this vaccine. The whistleblowers, the healthcare workers, the researchers, the study volunteers, the first wave of vaccine recipients. It will take more scared people, choosing to act bravely, to bring this pandemic to its knees. I am grateful for them. I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to join them. When you have the chance, I hope you join us too. When our shot comes, I hope we take it.

