Who’s Afraid of a Little Prick?
Who’s Afraid of a Little Prick?
Or, A Brief History of Pain
This photo has nothing to do with anything, really. Just a snap of me on The World’s First Bowling Bus (TM), a highlight of our trip home.
Who are these wimps that are avoiding their second shot (or the whole vaccine altogether) because they're worried about side effects? I'm not talking about people with legitimate concerns about blood clots or heart inflammation (myocarditis)*. I'm talking about people who don't want to experience the very normal, indicates-the-vaccine-is-working side effects of headache, nausea, fever, and the like.
So let's talk about pain and suffering. I have never had cancer, never broken a bone, never pushed a baby out of my vagina. I've lived a very charmed and largely healthy life. But I was also born with a uterus, which meant that by a certain age, I experienced cramps, nausea, fatigue, and sometimes even feverishness on a monthly basis. The only remedy that truly helped was taking a pill that—wait for it!—had a higher incidence of blood clots in users than the J&J shot**. I kind of knew this about the birth control pill? But I also got the message that if I didn't smoke (ew, no thanks) I'd be okay. And I was!
Then there was the time I had appendicitis. The doctor removed the offending organ the old-fashioned way, via cutting it out, because the random Brooklyn hospital I walked my sad, sick body to did not do laparoscopic procedures. And abdominal surgery renders bodily functions like pooping and laughing really difficult afterward. My now-husband swore that my laugh forever changed, became shallower, as a result of that surgery.
My next abdominal issue was a journey and a half with something called c. difficile, a bacteria literally named "difficult" because, my doctor told me, it can be so difficult to treat. (I could not confirm this via a quick search, but difficile does indeed mean “difficult” in French.) I won't get into the details, but c. diff left me fatigued and fighting dehydration for months. I was so miserable that I was ready and willing to undergo something called a fecal transplant—which, as its name implies, is very disgusting to consider, and hopefully conveys the depth of my desperation at that point in my life. I ultimately did not need to make this leap; one of the many drugs proffered to me eventually worked.
Apparently, my body has a predilection for horrible-yet-accurately named conditions: I suffered from HELLP right before the birth of my daughter, and whew did I need help. It's an experience I have yet to write about fully, but suffice it to say, getting a giant needle stuck into my spine was the least harrowing part of that experience—I don't even remember it! According to my husband, I just leaned forward and pretty much said, "Hit me!" The really hard part came after, when that needle popped out and all hell broke loose.
That’s why, when people talk about fear of vaccine side effects, I cannot relate one bit. Have my husband and I scheduled our return trip to Japan intentionally, so we leave more than 48 hours past our second shot? Absolutely. There's no reason to make ourselves miserable on purpose. But am I afraid of feeling shitty for a day or two? Abso-lutely-the-fuck-not. Bring it on! And if I happen to still feel sick three days post-shot, when I have to haul myself and a small child onto a 12-hour flight? At least that will be some material to write about.
*I highly recommend reading the article if you are concerned about vaccine side effects. If you’re not going to bother, one interesting fact popped out at me: while in rare cases, the COVID vaccine can cause myocarditis—so can COVID itself.
**Actually, it’s not entirely fair to compare the two, as the linked article explains, as the clots that develop in each case are different. And—bonus factoid—the risk for blood clots is higher among pregnant women than in women taking birth control.
