Please donate blood soon if you’re able

The American Red Cross has issued an urgent plea: our hospitals are facing a severe blood shortage. Blood donors are desperately needed, not just today, but on an ongoing basis over the coming weeks.

“Right now, the supply of the sorely needed type O blood would last only a half-day.”

It takes time to process donated blood, the result is perishable, and the need never subsides. We have no artificial substitute for life-saving donated blood.

Per the Red Cross website, you can donate blood as often as every 56 days if you meet these criteria:

  • You must be in good health and feeling well
  • You must be at least 16 years old in most states
  • You must weigh at least 110 lbs

You can donate blood after any of the COVID-19 vaccinations currently approved in the United States, usually without delay. Expect to report exactly which vaccine you were given—Moderna, Pfizer, or Johnson & Johnson—and the date of your shot.

According to the Boston Globe:

“…[N]ormally the Red Cross nationwide has a five-day supply of all types of blood — meaning that if blood collections suddenly stopped altogether, there would be enough to last five days.

Right now, the supply of the sorely needed type O blood would last only a half-day.”American Red Cross logo

If you are healthy and able, please consider donating blood in the near future. Less than 38% of Americans are eligible to donate, and only about 3% of that group does so.

A single blood donation can save as many as three lives. It’s hard to imagine a more valuable use of one hour of one’s time.

Homebound senior wants COVID vaccine yet can’t get shot doctor prescribed

Here’s the story of one elderly American citizen who agreed to be vaccinated against COVID-19, yet hasn’t been able to receive a shot as of mid-June, 2021.

Someone I care about has a very complex medical situation. Her health is fragile, and her immune system is compromised.

My loved one is frail and almost completely housebound; it is a struggle even to get her to scheduled doctors’ appointments with ample notice. Sometimes, her body simply won’t conform to the constraints of sitting in a passenger vehicle. Hospital bed in dining room

She certainly would not be able to wait 30 minutes on a hard chair in a physician’s practice—let alone standing in an aisle at a local pharmacy—the way my kids and I did after our jabs. At the same time, due to a history of severe allergic reactions to drugs and vaccine components, the risk of an adverse reaction is higher than average for this patient.

Consultations with her various specialists resulted in a consensus that the Pfizer product is the only recommended COVID-19 vaccine for her.

Thus far, none of her providers has been able to offer access to a prescribed dose of COVID-19 vaccine during a routine visit. Internet-savvy family members continue searching for a solution that will accommodate her specific needs with no luck to date.

The patient’s state of residence now offers at-home vaccinations for those who are homebound. Unfortunately, the program sends its providers out with the Johnson & Johnson single dose vaccine only. According to the toll-free hotline, there are no exceptions unless the patient is under 17 years old.

This patient, though unable leave home for a shot, cannot take advantage of her state’s offering for housebound residents. According to the Journal of the American Medical Association, approximately 6% of U.S. seniors were completely or mostly homebound as of 2015.

Without a doubt, American wealth and power has provided a tremendous benefit to average citizens who’ve been amongst the earliest to access life-saving vaccines against the novel coronavirus. Public health, however, relies upon the breadth of its network to protect every resident. Many of our most vulnerable are still waiting as vaccines near expiration dates in medical center freezers.

Evidence of widespread vaccine hesitancy proves we must keep working to remove barriers to access for those willing, yet unable, to be vaccinated in currently available settings. Lives—and our loved ones—depend upon it.

Post-COVID, I’ll remember NCL, Delta & Alaska Airlines put safety first

Norwegian Cruise Line (NCL) Holdings announced on May 7th that, if Florida’s government holds to its misguided law preventing private businesses from enforcing vaccine compliance, NCL will take all of its sailings to other ports outside that state. For a Miami-based company, that’s a pretty bold promise.

While my sun-loathing, beach-avoiding tendencies made Florida’s appeal a mystery to me in the past, its near total lack of sensible governance paints it as a positively terrifying “vacation” destination today. I’m hardly the only one to notice Governor DeSantis’ lunatic anti-corporate stance on this question, either.

I want to commend NCL for making a rational commitment to protect passenger safety even as the pandemic wanes. I haven’t cruised with Norwegian yet, but taking a firm line on this issue after a year of unprecedented collapse in the travel industry gives me a powerful reason to consider them more seriously in the future.2012 Carnival cruise Saint John NB Canada - 3

I’ve only taken a handful of cruises, having traveled twice with Crystal Cruises, once on Holland America Line, and once with Carnival. I’m delighted that Crystal has also adopted a 100% vaccinated passenger policy at this time.

At the same time, allow me to commend Delta for being the airline which blocked middle seats longer than any other major U.S. carrier. Delta ended that policy on May 1, 2021.

By contrast, American Airlines decided after just a couple of months in 2020 (April to June) that cramming passengers three abreast on flights of any duration—while an airborne virus sickened tens of thousands per day in a way science did not yet clearly understand—was sound policy.

AA made this choice well before the second surge of cases and deaths in the United States.AA entertainment welcome screen above pocket with A321S safety card visible

You can bet that Delta has moved up on the list of airlines I’ll choose to fly with going forward.

The day I got my first vaccine jab, I booked tickets home to see my dad for Christmas 2021.

I noticed when Alaska Airlines made the news for banning Alaska state Senator Lora Reinbold. The dis-Honorable Senator Reinbold repeatedly ignored staff instructions, violating a mask order designed to protect her fellow passengers.

Most of those good people were likely Reinbold’s constituents, yet she couldn’t be bothered to don a few square inches of cloth to reduce the risk of infecting them all with a contagious disease. The senator couldn’t know if any those in her vicinity were high risk; she simply didn’t care more about human life than she did political posturing.Tail of Alaska plane visible on tarmac through airport terminal window

I’m incredibly appreciative that Alaska Airlines chose to institute a face covering policy even before the United States federal government implemented its own mandate. I’m proud to say that Alaska is the airline with which I’ve had elite status for the greatest number of years.

I’m gratified that I’ve regularly paid a premium for flights with this airline that chose to do the right thing, even when doing so cost them the business of customers who couldn’t—wouldn’t—be bothered to take any small measure to respect others.

It’s interesting to me that I’ve long felt that customer service was better on Alaska and Delta than on other domestic airlines, even as frequent fliers began complaining bitterly about changes in the latter’s SkyMiles Frequent Flyer program devaluing their points. Personally, I prefer good service and more stringent safety protocols to a higher return paid in free trips.

This post is the product of a lot of noticing, over the course of a pandemic, which big companies took specific kinds of thoughtful action, and how often those actions corresponded with my previous impression of a given corporation. Trader Joe’s and American Airlines disappointed me; Delta, Alaska, and NCL have earned a great deal more of my esteem.

I have a long memory, and I’m the kind of traveler happy to pay a premium to support my values. Here’s hoping some pandemic-era changes in the aviation industry remain, and that the skies stay a little friendlier in the future.

Celebrating full vaccination against SARS-CoV-2… with a mask on

Today, I celebrate the fact that I’m officially fully vaccinated against the novel coronavirus responsible for the pandemic and all of its miserable restrictions. It’s been 14 days since my second Moderna jab.

I encourage everyone eligible and not medically contraindicated to pursue the same happy state.Person celebrating by blowing into unfurling pink butterfly party toy

The uncomfortable side effects weren’t the greatest thing ever, but they are long gone. My confidence, on the other hand, only grows stronger that I won’t catch or spread COVID-19 to those I love or innocent strangers.

My commitment to protecting others is a product of both my patriotismand my Jewish faith’s teachings on the inherent dignity and value of human life.

My behavior won’t change too much, however, given that I’m only the second person in our household of six people to achieve this milestone. My father-in-law, at a venerable age ≥75, was part of our state’s Phase II, given access to scarce vaccine appointments back in February.Patients during mandatory observation for side effects after coronavirus vaccination jab

Two thirds of us* have had second shots, and my youngest got his first jab within days of his cohort becoming eligible. The others in our household will reach full immunity over the course of the next four and a half weeks.

Knowing that even just the first dose of Pfizer vaccine reduces my youngest’s odds of symptomatic coronavirus infection by more than half, he will be able to rejoin his class for in person learning for at least the final couple of weeks of the school year.

What a blessing!School tents for COVID-19 - 1

It is especially poignant given my son’s love for this special school, which has been his academic home for more than half of his life, added to the fact that he’s moving on to his next level of education at a different institution in the fall.

Schools here rightly are still required by law to enforce masks for pupils indoors; my child will continue to wear a face covering at all times on campus, exceeding state regulations. He will continue to take care to keep social distance inside as well.

Because a frail, ill, elderly member of our family—and household—has a history of severe anaphylaxis triggered by medications and vaccine components, protecting ourselves from suffering severe COVID-19 is great, but not sufficient. She remains at elevated personal risk if she catches the coronavirus, yet unprotected by anything except her family’s caution.Safety goggles, cloth face mask, and disposable gloves

We will continue to guard against even mild infection, practicing indoor masking and social distancing in all public places, because no one knows yet exactly how contagious a vaccinated, asymptomatic or mildly symptomatic carrier really is.

Breakthrough infections after vaccination are rare and not usually severe, but they definitively exist and have caused some to suffer for prolonged periods of time.

I’m thrilled and grateful to live in a wealthy, powerful nation wherein my family enjoys the fruits of stupendous work on the part of scientists and clinicians fighting a novel disease. I understand and agree with the conclusion that a majority of fully vaccinated people can safely modify some behaviors at this point in the pandemic.

I also offer our situation as a cautionary tale to all those mocking and minimizing maintained vigilance even as rates of infection, hospitalization, and death improve. We aren’t just paranoid hypocrites who doubt or misunderstand science.

We are multi-generational households. We are people with allergies and other uncommon health conditions causing variable responses to vaccines. We are concerned parents, children, and grandchildren. We are traumatized family members of victims who lost lives to the pandemic.Woman hugs child

By most measures, COVID-19 is retreating. I celebrate that fact, too! My gaiety is merely tempered by the facts of my personal situation.

People of goodwill must continue to support each other—and everyone else in our communities—as each family negotiates the tail end of their own version of the pandemic. That’s how we recover, as a society.

I know of no greater way to honor those who’ve suffered, and those we’ve lost, than to carry on leading a joyful life including generous quantities of service and gratitude.

That process will look different from house to house, and community to community.

That’s not just okay, it’s a magnificent reflection of the vibrant diversity of modern America. Getting back to normal isn’t the best we can do; let’s move forward together to an even better future.

Respecting that others may do so differently from you is a powerful step in that direction.

Functional democracy—or effective government in a democratic republic such as the United States of America—depends upon civic virtue. Failing to protect others within my community would undermine everything I believe to be right, just, and good.

* i.e., us = my household

Teenagers such as my kids already have lower rates of severe or even symptomatic infection with this virus. In a population aged 65+, the first dose of either mRNA vaccine was protective against COVID-19 serious enough to require hospitalization at a rate of 64%. Subsequent studies show 12-15 year old adolescents mounting greater antibody responses to these vaccines than even young adults 16-25—who responded more vigorously than elders—likely due to the more robust immune system of youth.

Honestly admit vaccine side effect costs & better support the “hesitant” to increase compliance

When you get your COVID-19 vaccination—and I’d argue that approximately 99% of those reading this post have a moral imperative to do so—a realistic assessment of the facts suggests that you are likely* experience some uncomfortable side effects though they may be very mild.

News coverage, even in sources specifically geared toward those of us living with chronic conditions, heavily emphasizes the societal good which vaccination will bring—which is real enough—but most writers lean too heavily toward cheerleading at the expense of offering valuable information people need to cope with the particular pressures of their own individual lives.

I would like to stress that those of us more vulnerable than average to infirmity should plan for several days of being less effective in our work and daily lives after vaccination. It’s better to be prepared than to be caught flat-footed after the fact.

Politicians and business leaders who want the economy to boom should be offering solutions to make such preparations possible for the millions of Americans living in and at the edge of poverty who can’t afford to construct such safeguards for themselves.

Roughly 30 million American adults want to take the COVID-19 vaccine but haven’t yet managed to actually get the shot(s). Closer to 28 million are instead “vaccine hesitant,” stating they would probably or definitely not get vaccinated.Redacted official CDC COVID-19 Vaccination Record Card

Sufferers of autoimmune disease, getting your jab may well bring on a flare. That was my experience after my first dose, and I’m glad I dug down far enough through coy, dissembling news coverage and popular health reporting to be forewarned about the risk.

Here’s one published case study in The Lancet regarding the health of one gentleman with rheumatoid arthritis after getting the BioNTech-Pfizer vaccine. This article on Creaky Joints is the most honest that I read, speaking directly to specific reactions people with autoimmune conditions might expect.

I would take that first dose again, however, and I did return for my second shot of the Moderna vaccine.

I began composing this post whilst “enjoying” the resultant joint pains, exhaustion, and headache that came with full vaccination. Dose two also induced half a day of resounding nausea that could have been an exaggerated version of the queasiness I routinely get when very tired.

Side effects from the second shot prevented me from my normal activities—already constrained by my autoimmune disease diagnosis—for about two and a half days.

I.e., I would not have felt safe driving for at least two days after my second shot, nor would I have been healthy enough to go to work.

By comparison, after my first jab, I experienced sudden onset of extreme fatigue, headache, and an odd sensation I only associate with coming down with a virus that I can best describe as “the spaces in my joints feeling stretched out and wobbly.”Analog wall clock showing 12:06

Those shot #1 symptoms popped up about six hours after I received it mid-morning. I went to bed early, and the next day, all the viral infection type side effects were far less troublesome. I felt less than 100% the day after, but able to partake in most normal activities.

I.e., I could have worked through the side effects triggered by my first dose.

My arm ached significantly for a total of five or six days, however, and I developed an uncomfortable swollen feeling in my armpit several days later that was probably my lymph nodes reacting.

On the other hand, in the four weeks after my first dose of Moderna’s vaccine, I experienced the most significant stiffness, joint pain, swelling, and fatigue that I’d had since the pandemic began. Staying at home most of the time while society remained mostly shut down was generally very protective for me against my usual, recurrent autoimmune disease symptoms.

I used far less pain medication than usual between March of 2020 and April 2021. I went entire weeks without needing an NSAID anti-inflammatory or using prescription pain killers. Between my two doses of COVID-19 vaccine, I required at least one of those every day.

I.e., I would have struggled to meet the demands of a full time job plus family responsibilities on many of the days between my first and second vaccine injections.Prescription bottle of pain pills

It is worth noting that this potentially vaccine-provoked flare never reached peaks equivalent to the worst ones I had right after my diagnosis. Also, the flare absolutely could have been coincidental. But, again, it’s the only serious one I had through the entire pandemic right up until I got my first shot.

I’m not arguing against vaccination. I am suggesting some of us might need extra resources to meet our daily responsibilities when we elect vaccination, doing our part to protect the entire community. Stepping up comes with a cost.

I have a healthy, supportive spouse. My large family includes relatively helpful, fit teens able to pick up the slack with household chores. Family members have been able to stagger vaccine appointments so we never experienced side effects simultaneously. Our income is sufficient that purchasing takeout meals or prepared foods is not a burden. I am easily able to reach my regular doctor with any concerns because I’m well-served with health insurance and the means to pay for Direct Primary Care out of pocket—including an option to text message my GP directly for urgent issues outside business hours.

In short, I have the good fortune to control most aspects of my daily life, so I could plan around the reality of vaccine side effects. I had sufficient personal resources to fall back on to meet all of my post-vaccination needs. Far too many Americans are less fortunate, many in more than one of the areas I’ve mentioned.

Speaking specifically to the autoimmune-challenged community, I’ve been delighted to find that my second dose of the mRNA vaccine seems to have abruptly ended the prolonged flare I experienced in the four weeks between shots. After feeling much worse due to its side effects than I had in over a year, by the fourth day post-vaccination, I became more energetic—and had less joint pain and stiffness—than I could recall feeling in recent memory. bandage on upper arm

I.e., my RA flare ended abruptly along with my vaccine side effects from the second shot.

Given that vaccination clears lingering symptoms for as many as 41% of COVID long haulers, I was fascinated to observe what could be a related effect in myself after jab #2. Communicating this potential improvement in daily functioning to those who are vaccine hesitant while believing themselves to have had COVID—some of whom never got confirmation of a likely coronavirus infection due to the scarcity of tests early in the pandemic—seems like yet another missed opportunity in public health messaging.

Everyone who wants the economy to rebound fully should take all possible actions to enable workers, especially those at the margins of poverty with limited access to health care, to make, keep, and recover after appointments for inoculation. Full disclosure of the known risks and known benefits—but also realistic potential risks and probable benefits—could bring us closer to herd immunity and full fiscal and medical recovery.

COVID-19 still holds many mysteries for science to uncover. The need to offer accurate information as well as paid time off to over-burdened breadwinners and caregivers so that they can confidently book vaccinations—without risking their livelihood!—isn’t one of them.

America’s front-line, essential workers have already borne more than their fair share of the fight against this pandemic. Today, those who employ these millions should step up with specific support to enable each one to get his or her shots.

* I say “likely” based upon the CDC website stating, for the Pfizer vaccine, “84.7% reported at least one local injection site reaction” and “77.4% reported at least one systemic reaction.” For the Moderna version, they state “[s]ystemic reactions were reported by the majority of vaccine recipients” with over 80% experiencing injection site reactions.