I Got Vaccinated But Still Got Infected: A Venting Testimonial and Ask to the Public
Note: Yes, I am taking a stance on a health matter. I know it’s risky, but someone has to say something. My experience and opinion are my own.
On Thursday, August 12th at 12:50 pm, a nurse from a nearby pharmacy where I had a Covid-19 rapid test done called me. “Your Covid test came back positive,” she said. “Awesome,” I sarcastically replied.
I spent the past year and a half trying to avoid this virus, and I got it. I’ve got a masked-up, gloved-up monkey scratching my brain with the following thoughts: “Why me?!” “I did everything I could!” “How could I be so reckless?!” “Didn’t you get vaccinated?!” To answer that last question–yes, I was vaccinated. And the vaccine works. My symptoms are not as bad as some of my friends who got Covid-19 before they got vaccinated (I had a fever, gnarly head cold, dulls taste and smell, and weak muscles while my friends had fevers, stomach issues, complete loss of taste, and smell, weak muscles, trouble breathing, and chest pains). It still sucks.
As I cathartically write this blog post, I couldn’t help but equate dealing with my diagnosis with the five stages of grief. But instead of sequential stages that lead you to acceptance of grief, the steps of accepting you have “the Rona” happen whenever they want to and overlap with each other. I think of these stages as the following:
Acceptance: being okay with the current situation
It’s usually felt when I’m stuck in bed watching copious amounts of television, meditating, or writing.
Frustration: being upset with the current situation and wanting to do something about it, but I can’t
It’s usually felt when I eat something and realize I have a dull sense of taste and smell; I feel good to go out but can’t because I'd risk infecting others; or hearing about rising hospitalization rates among the unvaccinated.
Boredom: feeling I have nothing to do or have done the same shit repeatedly
It’s usually felt whenever I’m on my phone looking at social media or playing crossword puzzles.
Support: knowing people have your back
It’s usually felt when my boyfriend, Scott, offers to run errands for me this week (he tested negative this week so he can go out) or when family and friends reach out (and vice versa).
Optimism: seeing peeps of light at the end of a 10-14 day long tunnel
It’s usually felt when I wake up every morning, every time I exercise or cook or clean without getting winded, and when I go to sleep knowing I completed the day.
The stages overlap, and I experience them at different parts of the day:
The frustration-boredom and acceptance-frustration stages with some support-boredom peppered in filled the beginning of quarantine. Frustration-boredom seemed expected since I’m stuck in the house, unable to move, and I want to go to work (Downton Abbey and Hotel Hell marathons curbed some to the boredom, fortunately). Support-boredom also seemed expected since my family and friends have texted me, but I miss hanging out with them in person. How can I feel acceptance and frustration simultaneously?
I guess it’s that while I know that I have the virus, the monkey still scratches my brain but with new thoughts. “Can you smell that?” “Can you taste that?” “Is that just a tickle in your throat?” “Is your chest tightening up?” “It’s another day you’re not at work missing out on wages.” “Oh, another story of some hospitalized dumbass who wasn’t vaccinated.” I can talk myself out of some of these thoughts–especially when a friend texts me, Scott asks if I need anything, and I complete a new day.
As I progress, the other stages start surfacing. I tasted a little bit of Madeira earlier this week despite a dulled taste and smell.
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I love Madeira. It has historical significance (the Founding Fathers toasted with this at the signing of the Declaration of Independence). Despite being heated to near oblivion, it still has complex flavors and textures. The Rare Wine Company began a project to create moderately priced Madeiras with the aromatic fingerprint and quintessential texture and flavors of far more expensive vintage Madeiras. This New York Malmsey has a plush, sweet texture balanced with dried tropical and stone fruit notes and spice.
I look forward to when I can go out again (hopefully in time for my birthday).
Now that I’ve shared my experience, I want to leave you with this.
When mask and social distancing mandates were lifted a few months ago, I took advantage and the risk of going out. But, with the delta variant and the uptick in “breakthrough cases” like mine, I realize I’m not entirely invincible. Even though I felt sorry for myself for getting the virus at first, I remind myself I did the best thing to prevent it from being terrible–I got vaccinated.
I know there are still people who think this virus is a hoax and don’t care about the new proof of vaccination rules businesses require. To those people, please realize that your decision impacts other people’s health and the livelihood of workers like myself. I hope that you develop enough compassion to protect society by masking up when asked and getting the vaccine so that we can go “back to normal” and limit the number of Covid-19 cases.
Now that I’ve said my peace, I can’t wait until my quarantine period is over, so I can spend time with the people I love and drink up.
This is the tasty Pet-nat rosé from Emilia-Romagna, Italy I plan to celebrate the end of quarantine with. Unlike the classic Charmat method sparklers of Emilia-Romagna, Mirco Mariotti produces his bubbles in the méthode ancestrale, from vines located in the heart of Bosco Eliceo (300m from the Adriatic.) Wines are rustic and complex, full of sultry mouthfeel and saline-tinged fizz—everything I love in a Pet-nat rosé.