By Ken De Laat
It wasn’t to be an extravagant vacation. No Hawaii this time, Cabo was out, and there were zero plans for a trip to Jamaica or Costa Rica.
We just thought flying somewhere may not be the most judicious move right now.
So it was to be a low key road trip to the shores of the Gulf to share a condo with some old friends both of whom had been vaxed and boosted as had we.
Seemed safe and all and there was plenty to do.
Then one of our companions began to feel a bit out of sorts. She tested herself and …
Two days later we took a test and while Lil’s was negative mine was not.
And I was isolation bound. Staying in our room in the condo and waiting out the 5 day period before beginning another 5 days of masking.
But there’s a beach to walk on, a deck to sit on and copious amounts of good food and snacks within easy reach.
And it’s warm outside.
Now admittedly, in the past few months I have not been the most prudent person when it comes to the virus. Oh I have masked mostly and washed my hands as if I was scrubbing for surgery and stayed relatively distant off and on. But I have also frequented eateries, been in meetings where no one masked and generally felt a bit cocky after getting the boost and thus lightened up on my disciplines.
And now I am isolating to hopefully keep others from getting viraled by my infectious state since there are many out there who remain vulnerable.
As for feeling sick? No. I don’t. Not a bit. I had a sore throat and a cough for about a day but nothing since. Being in one of the vulnerable age groups (is it true 70 is the new 50?) has always been in the back of my mind. A mind, mind you, that generally seems to think the body is about 30 years younger with a maturity level significantly lower than that.
But I digress.
Several people I know who eschewed any notion of getting the vax caught the ‘rona and got sick.
Some got real sick.
Most, but not all, were able to avoid hospitalization. Thankfully all survived, though one friend told me that during the worst of it the idea of his demise wasn’t totally unwelcome.
I’m glad they got through it of course, and perhaps I might have also gotten through it and toughed it out had I not been gifted with the advent of the vaccine.
But you see, beyond how very much I despise being ill, I almost always play the odds whether it be poker or my health.
When considering getting a shingles shot I spoke to a friend who had gone through a lengthy bout with shingles. He revealed to me that if someone had told him there was a shot to prevent it, even if it was only a partial chance of working, he’d hand over a blank check and roll up his sleeve because it was that bad.
I asked others who also experienced this post-chickenpox scourge. The answers wavered little and just the memory of their time with the virus caused them to scrunch up their faces in a combination of fear and pain.
I got the shot.
Thus when the COVID vaccines appeared I was on board. I’ve heard the anti’s arguments and while perhaps a few are not without merit, at least those that don’t involve the secret chips being injected or the other varieties of conspiracy theory, I went with the odds.
Thus my time with the virus was short and uneventful.
I’m grateful for the series of shots that has likely made my COVID journey as tolerant as it has been. And while the deniers (a minority, albeit a rather cacophonous minority) will undoubtedly be compelled to comment and dismiss the efficacy of the vax with perhaps some words disparaging my intelligence and naivete at believing the medical experts?
Most stats indicate that being unvaxed increases your chances for hospitalization by about 7 times over those who got the shots.
And like I said, I tend to go with the odds.
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