I’ve fully intended to slip out of my soul sack without creating any more waves of controversy on social media, and while it’s a noble intention, it’s not one I can heed today. I woke up with that itchy heat of frustration, knowing people I love and respect keep making the decision to not get vaccinated, while few have legitimate medical excuses for doing so.
I used to be vaccine resistant too, especially in the distracted days of college and grad school when I relied heavily on social media for my sources of news. My ability to tell the difference between legitimate reporting and opinion articles dressed up with anecdote and misinformation was poor. I didn’t know that most sources pushing anti-vax content could be traced back to opportunistic alternative health gurus selling quack protocols or questionable products, or simply seeking notoriety and attention far outside their field of expertise. It’s embarrassing to admit, but true. And because I’d already benefited so much from vaccines, and never had to fear, oh, say, polio, for example, I thought they were unnecessary. “Just not my thing,” I’d say. “I’m good, thanks,” never bothering to consider the ableism and privilege I was exercising at others expense.
Now, as I’m staring down the chute of the last 4-5 weeks of my life, watching people i love and respect assume the same---because why else would you refuse a free, overwhelmingly safe, effective, lifesaving vaccine in a deadly pandemic ---- i must step away from my attempts to slip out of this plane without creating waves.
I too, once believed I was immune to having the impossible thing happen. (Covid is far from impossible, but bear with me please.) If someone had told me before I was given my rare terminal diagnosis that I was a candidate, I would have shrugged it off. “I’m too healthy,” I’d say. “I eat organic.” “I’m in great shape.” “I’m young.” “There’s not much a little apple cider vinegar, sunshine, and meditation can’t fix.” And I wouldn’t have said this next part out loud, but it’d be lurking behind my other rebuttals: “Life threatening illness is not in my life plan anytime soon. I’ve got important plans for the decades ahead. I’m clever/strong/resourced/blessed/spiritual enough to avoid it.” Or if i get it,”I’m clever/strong/resourced/blessed/spiritual enough to beat it.”
Good grief, the arrogance. The anti-clever, anti-spiritual arrogance.
Now I’m seeing reasonable people talk about their “autonomy” and their “rights”, and if I still had the arm strength to scratch my head, I would. We are dealing with a virus that has already killed 642k people in this country, and shows no signs of letting up soon. I’m sorry, but this is an unfathomable fucking tragedy. Those people had families and dreams for their future, and I bet largely assumed they, too, would be exempt.. Of the survivors, near thirty percent have lingering, long Covid symptoms that may continue who knows how long. Children are now being hospitalized at alarming rates, especially in areas with low vaccination.
Meanwhile, no one dares protest that laws for public health preventing them from driving drunk or running red lights Impede on their “rights” anymore. You don’t have rights in a civilized society to endanger other people’s lives. Period. And make no mistake. If you’re choosing to not get the shots , your decision is not personal. You will get covid if you haven’t already. It’s just that those of us who have the vaccine will not be the ones clogging the ICUs, taking up space, resources, and skilled attention of doctors and nurses away from people who didn’t choose their illnesses or accidents. We won’t be leaving our families with the complicated grief., guilt, and anger of knowing the whole mess could have been avoided with some shots that left us with a headache and sore arm for two days.
Please know, as an act of love, I’ll swiftly delete any YouTube conspiracy theories from the comments. Don’t bother mentioning ivermectin, or chlorine dioxide, or hydroxy-whatever (whatever happened to that miracle cure anyway?) It’s all BS. The only people we should be listening to right now are doctors and nurses exhausted from dealing with this for eighteen months, epidemiologists who actually know this stuff, legit journalists, and the hundreds of thousands of families in this country who have already lost someone to this wretched virus. They’re simply begging everyone to get the damn vaccine already. It’s very simple. Those that do can then rest easier knowing they’re no longer a threat to the public, their family, themselves, or our shared healthcare system.
I didn’t want to pull the terminal illness card. But I’ll rest in peace knowing I’ve said, don’t be so sure it won’t happen to you. If you’re unvaccinated and you already recovered fully from the virus, congratulations. I hope you haven’t unwittingly passed it on to others who weren’t so lucky. This isn’t about “rights.” It’s not only about you. It’s about being a decent human being who can recognize your own vulnerability, living among other vulnerable beings. I hope I don't lose friends from this post. I love you. But even worse would be losing friends from an entirely preventable illness.
Photo of wonder woman figure by Erika Wittlieb via Pixabay
The quote that follows continues: "... It seems the more permission we give ourselves and each other to have all the feelings and questions--without offering tidy answers to shunt the process--the more empowering it'll feel to define our own meaning, in our own time, as best we care to."
#autoimmunepaleo SPECIAL INTERVIEW // TERI DILLION
This is the second post in an interview series with @teri.dillion, author of No Pressure, No Diamonds. Teri has ALS and types using technology that tracks her eyes (#incredible), and we are running a series of posts featuring her insights into life, healing, and meaning under the hashtag #nopressurenodiamondsbook.
👉QUESTION: It is tempting to give tidy answers in the form of advice or seek tidy answers as a way to make sense of disease or gain control. What is the impact of getting sucked into the pursuit for tidy answers? What is the alternative opportunity?
👉Teri answer: “You named it: control. I think it’s natural, when something powerful and disorienting starts taking over our lives (like chronic/complex illness), for us to try to orient towards an explanation that comforts us. We all would like to believe if we do everything “right,” we’ll always prevail with the upper hand in our fate. Capitalism and advertising would have us believe there’s always an answer to what ails us, if only we make the necessary investment. But of course life doesn’t reliably offer tidy resolutions based on simple transactions; it merely continues to unfold in greater and greater complexity. I believe it’s ultimately up to us to mine it’s lessons, no matter the challenge or conventional success of the eventual outcome.
One important lesson of illness is humility, since it begs (and sometimes demands) us to slow down, turn inward, and listen. In heeding that call, we’re afforded an opportunity to learn of ourselves on a deeper level; our rhythms, needs, longings, hurts, and hopefully, our own resources. If we allow for it, we can become students of the power of impermanence, mystery, and grace, and we can learn to engage our relationships in a new, more life-affirming way. While this process is rarely tidy, it ultimately invites us to locate and define our own empowerment---and indeed a faith in our own vitality, no matter our physical state---that we’d never have found otherwise.”
One of the interesting things about acquiring a disability in adulthood is seeing how differently strangers treat you.
Once the muscles in my throat and vocal chords lost enough oomph to form clear words, most strangers started talking to me in a loud voice, assuming I couldn't hear, or with simple language, assuming I couldn't understand, or think. Some would not even bother talking to me at all; a certain percentage would ignore my personhood completely and instead speak about me in the third person to whatever able-bodied person accompanied me.
Other strangers assumed my body was fair game and boundaryless, and would suddenly reach out to stroke my face, pat the top of my head, or even suddenly lean in for an unexpected kiss on the lips. Can you imagine? Strangers! This is not something that strangers ever did upon first meeting me prior to my using a wheelchair---it's as if I lost my status and subjectivity as an adult.
To my surprise, I've found this to be the case with healthcare providers just as often. Sometimes they automatically yell, or patronize. Prejudice and confusion regarding physical disability runs deep, which is why we all would benefit from better education which helps us not infantilize each other. (FWIW, I most definitely could have done the same to others once upon a time---sans kissing.)
But this peculiar phenomenon is not unique to me, of course. This is a large, enduring trend with deep and ugly history in American society, where people with disabilities are feared, misunderstood, abused, or outright ignored in our desires to live a life in the public sphere with dignity. As a minority group who encompass 20% of the population---which you wouldn't know by watching media, where we are represented as 2% of the population, usually by able-bodied actors or models--- those of us with disabilities have a long way to go in securing visibility and representation.
This article, written by (my hero, badass) disability rights activist Judith Heumann is worth the read. Also, Netflix's recent Crip Camp documentary which features her work is excellent and worth watching