I got my first Covid vaccination a week ago.
Since I work in town, I went as a walk-in at the CTICC.
I was initially put off by the queue stretching all the way along the outside length of the building, but decided it was worth the wait.
In the end, it took me under an hour to get inside and then another 30 minutes to be processed, jabbed, monitored and sent on my way.
The actual injections stations were set up in the same hall I was in a year ago, when the CTICC was converted into a field hospital to deal with the expected spill-over of Covid cases.
It was a morbid site to walk past rows upon rows of brand new hospital beds waiting to accommodate an influx of sickness and death.
Thousands of people owe the lives of their loved ones to the selfless service that was delivered there, while hundreds of others weren’t allowed to witness their loved ones breathe their last breaths in those beds. Myself included!
And now it seems that sadly we are back there for the third time, with a fresh spike in infections, hospitalisations and deaths.
And still the anti-vaxxers insist on spreading their badly-researched beliefs and conspiracy theories to followers who lap it all up.
I sometimes wonder about their motives.
Because while it’s their right to quietly believe whatever they like, why do they insist on broadcasting it; determined to win others over, including people who don’t know how to access credible information.
I saw a very smart analysis on Facebook recently.
It was from a healthcare worker, who said something to the effect of: “…taking the vaccine is like wearing a seatbelt. It doesn’t guarantee that you won’t get into an accident, but it does reduce the possibility that you’ll be badly injured or even killed, if you do.”
I have read so many reports from doctors saying they wish anti-vaxxers could talk to severe Covid patients and witness their regret when they realise that they are about to die because of their mistaken beliefs about the vaccine.
Oh, and yes I am doing fine. I hardly felt the injection, despite the fact that I usually become a nervous baby in the presence of a nurse wielding a needle.
It was a nice slick operation that gave me a lot of confidence from the outset.
But not so much confidence that I am now out partying with gay abandon.
I still need to get my second shot, so I am still as cautious as I have always been; and will continue to be, even after I am fully vaccinated.
The new Delta variant has been shown to infect even those who are vaccinated, although hospitalisation and mortality is far lower.
So I will continue to keep my hands clean, touch as few surfaces as possible and continue to mask up, largely because I understand that I will still be able to infect others, even if I show no symptoms.
This is our reality for now. At least until we have herd immunity, or we can convince anti-vaxxers that they are wrong and continue to hold the rest of us hostage with their views.