(Please note: this post is a bit controversial, which isn’t my style. However, it’s also my story and a significant milestone in my life. I created this blog to share parts of my journey to a simple life. It would have been inauthentic to not share this. If I offend anyone, I am deeply sorry.)
Today, I get the MMR vaccine. For those unversed, it stands for Measles, Mumps and Rubella and you likely got it as a child. Me? I didn’t. Not because my parents didn’t want to. Instead, I had a severe allergic reaction called anaphylaxis to my first childhood vaccine, the Diptheria, Pertussis and Tetanus (DPT) vaccine. Back in the late 60s and 70s, the DPT vaccine had a protein which could induce a severe reaction. Because vaccines weren’t as well understood back then and because my reaction was so severe (I nearly died), my pediatrician determined that the risk for further vaccinations was too great and that I would receive no more vaccines. According to my mom, after he had administered the life-saving epinephrine to me, he went into a bit of a shock himself, repeatedly saying, “I almost lost a baby today. I almost lost a baby.” (And he did. Had the next door neighbor not been a New York State Trooper and had he and his partner not just come home for lunch, there would have been no one to rush my mom to the hospital with me. She kept me alive by repeatedly smacking me when I would stop breathing.)
(Note here: the DPT vaccine/allergic reactions and resulting personal injury lawsuits would ultimately lead to the formal Vaccine Injury Program in the US, which was developed in the mid-70s.)
Back then, the theory was that it was safer for me to not have the vaccines then to risk another reaction. Today, the opposite is true. I want to travel as we get ready to retire and I can only do that if I’m vaccinated, particularly for measles and hepatitis. As an inhaler-dependent asthmatic, I just can’t take any crazy changes that I pick up measles. As we age, the risk for hepatitis and life-limiting chronic illness is severe.
To be fair, I will admit I am a little nervous. My mom, a registered nurse herself, drilled it into my head as a child that no one was ever to give me any type of shot without her or Dr. Silverstein’s approval. No one. No circumstance. Nothing doing. When I was inadvertently placed in the vaccine line in grade school and the school nurse found me there (before the vaccine had been administered), the whole school administration freaked out. Everyone panicked and I got the message: we weren’t fooling around. Even in the 1970s and with parents who taught us that we didn’t dare challenge an adult, I was told to absolutely refuse anyone who attempted to give me any injection and that I would not get into trouble for it.
Today? I’m headed to my PCP’s office in about two hours. They have the epinephrine ready and I’m wearing a shirt I don’t mind if they cut off me. Although I did get three Covid vaccines with no reaction, this is a whole different formulation and thus a different ballgame. My husband wanted to come to the appointment but I said no. If the worst happens, I don’t want him there. He couldn’t save me and that’s an image that would last forever.
Deep down, I have to admit that my visceral fear of what could happen leads to some serious anger about this whole epidemic of vaccine refusals. Parents who are vaccinated themselves have suddenly come to question vaccines, prompted by an injury attorney who sits at the head of Health and Human Services and spurred on by a misguided notion that vaccines cause autism. Let me state this plainly: vaccines do not cause autism. Even in the 70s when the DPT was producing severe anaphylactic shock, it wasn’t causing autism. It was a protein in the pertussis vaccine that caused the reaction and the formula was revised decades ago. Let me also say this plainly: I feel like this whole chaos around vaccine administration is caused by Instagram-influenced lifestyles and a flair for dramaticism. To me, it’s the newest fad. This one, though, can have disastrous consequences and I wish people understood those consequences more.
There, I got that out. Now, I move forward. At 12:10 p.m. today, I should have either safely cleared the hurdle or the worst has happened. By 12:40 p.m., a little over an hour after my shot, the hurdle should be fully removed. It is not a pleasant thought but it’s where I am. More importantly, though, I want those I love to know that I did this for what I truly believed were the right reasons. My husband and I went to Universal this spring and I was concerned about contracting measles the whole time. I’m going back this fall and winter and I can’t keep running the gauntlet. My husband and I are talking about going to Costa Rica on our next adventure and I want to give us the opportunity to explore whatever parts of the world we want to see together. I can’t do that if I’m not immunized. Those memories with my husband, my sisters or my bestie? I want them more than anything.
I am scared but I am strong enough to face this fear. I am tired of living a limited life and I am tired of being afraid. I get the risk and as much as I vented my anger, I own this choice. This is my decision. No one talked me into this and while I discussed it in-depth with my physician, she did not attempt to influence me either way. This is my choice and mine alone.
I hope that getting this vaccine and potentially the hepatitis series and the pneumococcal vaccine will be enough to assuage my anger at my perceived threats around me. I genuinely need to let that go. But more than that, I hope to overcome this pervasive fear so that I can live a full life. For most adults today, thinking about vaccination status isn’t a thing. For me? It’s been a thing my whole life.
Today, though? Today is a good day for a good day. I am scared but I am resolved. Just like running a marathon and that fear you won’t reach the finish line or when I thought we had a dead rattlesnake in our yard, I can face my fears. I am tough enough for this. And tomorrow, I will be one huge step closer to being safe. But I would also be remiss if I didn’t one time express the things that needed to be said. So, here goes:
To my husband, nothing is more important to me than the love we’ve built and the life we share. To my sisters, you are my best friends and two of the strongest guiding lights of my life. To my bestie, Erin, you are the third sister. Put yourself in the category above. To the kids, the first day I held you, I knew what it was like to love someone so much you’d sacrifice anything for them. Do good and be great. To my in-laws, thank you for being the kind of people who raised a son so honorable and kind that I found my life’s partner. You have also been so amazing and gracious to me. And finally, to my furry ones, let’s be honest for the first time. You rescued me, not the other way around. Your trust in us means more than you will know and you will never have to go hungry, sick or scared again.
To all, understand that I had to do this. I had to take a chance at a full life. I didn’t want to cheat myself any longer.
The Yuppie Homesteader 