One Side-effect of the Covid-19 Vaccination that I Ignored

Don’t underestimate pandemic stress

I remembered the talk about the Coronavirus during a break in our gym class in January 2020.

“Well,” I said thoughtlessly: “It’s the flu season, so I wash my hands often, anyway.”

With this smug comment, I dismissed Covid-19, little thinking how much this virus will change my life. How could I have known that a year later, as of April 17th, over 3 million people would die around the world, over half a million here in these United States?

How Covid affected me?

Despite the upheaval of this disease, its severity did not really register until it affected me.

• The first jolt to my complacency was the cancellation of my surgery after I had completed my bloodwork.
• Months later, when the hospitals resumed surgery, my condition had worsened. I required more intensive preparation for extensive surgery, and my husband could not visit me during my hospital stay. These new restrictions compromised my well-being. Other adjustments increased the emotional dis-ease.
• Covid-19 determined the size and type of Memorial service for my husband, who died unexpectedly. It deprived me of hugs and physical support.
• When forced to travel, I could not enjoy a leisurely meal, to break the monotony of a long trip.
• My sister-in-law had an appointment with her doctor the following day after my visit. She could not see him if she visited with anyone out of State within two weeks. After a nine-hour trip, we could not visit.
• Covid intruded into our private spaces. I wanted to see my sister before she moved even further away from us. As the door opened, an arm shot out with a thermometer. Apyrexial, I went into the house, our smiles hidden by our masks.
• One serious glitch was the disruption of all my volunteer activities

Volunteering is an important part of my self-care. It allows me to express my gratitude for the many blessings in my life. One of my volunteer activities is “Laundry Love”.

The aim of “Laundry Love” is straightforward: Wash the laundry of poor people, regardless of their religion, ethnicity, or lifestyle. We are successful when families or guests leave with clean clothes.

The underlying reasons are simple: Some indicators of poverty can be masked but dirty, smelly clothes assault the senses. Folks turn their eyes and move away from the source. Children with unwashed clothes find school life harder.

The atmosphere at the Laundromat was purposeful but convivial as the machines churn and the warmth of dozens of dryers created its own climate.

Guests and two teams of volunteers shared snacks, seated on chairs, or huddled around folding tables as they talked about their day. We felt part of the tapestry that portrayed the community.

Volunteering there was enjoyable because the gratification of helping was so instant and obvious. A year without community involvement left a gap in my life. I felt unmoored. But Covid would rob me of much more.

Covid-19 crushed my world

Our caring handyperson often came with his wife to work around the house and yard. His wife also worked at our gym and initially recommended him to us. We enjoyed their company and help.

When he did not need his wife’s aid, she and I passed the time talking about our families. They came to do some work four days before my husband’s Memorial Service but surprised me by not attending. We held it outdoors with chairs at the required distance, within the shade of California redwood trees.

A week later, he apologized for his absence. His sobs surprised and confused me. Eventually, I learned his wife had died of Covid unexpectedly on her way to the hospital just the day before the Memorial. Her son had recovered after a brief illness and she, in her fifties, thought that she could do the same.

The new year dawned with the announcement of the death of a lady who sat in the pew behind me at Church. She dressed elegantly, was vivacious, and such good fun. Yes, she was old, but Covid claimed her before aging did.

February brought me more sadness.

Sonnie was the best friend of my husband. Sonnie was so energetic that he opened his friend’s memorial with frenetic dancing to Apache drums. His death cast long shadows over my life.

He took his promise to my husband to take care of me seriously. He saw me often, insisted that I eat well, and assured me that his friend would want me to be happy.

Covid left him too weak to visit me. Eventually, he required hospitalization for ventilation, and after six weeks; he died too. His death cast such long shadows.

Yet, despite the combined grief of these deaths and compound losses, I feel uplifted. Covid-19 is still with us, strengthened by its variants, but there are reasons for optimism.

• The Spring Days are getting longer. The garden is wakening up from winter bareness with blossoms of cherry and pear trees and blooming daffodils. My wintry mood is lifting too. But this is more than a seasonal surge of good spirits.
• Vaccines are available. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention on April 17th, 2021, Americans have had over 264 million doses. I am one of almost 74,621,644 people fully vaccinated in the United States.

The feeling of relief astonished me. I realized how worried I was about my susceptibility to the virus. I had attended church and the gym, did my shopping when needed, I wore a mask and washed my hands, hoped, and prayed. Two weeks after my vaccination, I felt relieved and joyful.

Before vaccination, if I coughed too long or felt hot, I would take the unusual step of taking my temperature. I checked every ache or abnormality against the Covid list of symptoms. The long-term effects of the illness are debilitating for some, so I wanted to have prompt treatment.

The vaccine lifted the prospect of severe illness or death even if I become infected. That is good enough for me. The prospect of returning to pre-pandemic life thrills me.

Volunteering

Two weeks after our Covid vaccinations, another vaccinated volunteer and I suggested to the Director of the Charity that we could resume our schedule.

Today we returned. We walked into the Laundromat where two guests were already waiting. Two guests were too frail to come in person, so they sent their laundry.

My colleague and I separated the clothes into colored and whites then piled them into four washers of varying sizes. The Director had helped the two waiting guests as she provided detergents and fed the machines with quarters to start their washers. I could not stop smiling at the familiar sound of the humming machines. Happiness comes in simple ways.

Aristotle nailed it when he declared: “The essence of life is to serve others and do good.”

One swallow does not make a summer, but it certainly reminds us of it. It signals to us even if we have wintry days that summer is on the way.

In the grand scheme of things, two ladies returning to a Volunteer activity are insignificant in terms of the country’s progress. Yet this small activity makes me hopeful. Life as we know it is returning to normal, if somewhat different.

I continue to take Covid precautions for the sake of others, but thanks to my vaccination, I feel liberated and safe. I can plan for a future of more volunteering and social engagement.

It has been such a long and tiring time to feel uncertain and forced to think of disease, but I know there is a future. A return to pre-pandemic times will be different for each of us. I hope that soon everyone would have that moment when they find their normal.