Old People <3 the Vaxx

Recently, I've been doing some volunteering at the Friday Center, a convention center which, in recent times, has become a major vaccination site in the Triangle area. I've most commonly worked in the "checkout person" role, where, after they've sat for 15 or 30 minutes, I go up to freshly-vaxxed individuals and discharge them. It's a pretty simple script, involving giving them some information, telling them when their follow-up appointment is for the second shot, and (my favorite part) handing them a button before sending them on their way. The button is a little confusing--it's got the words "I got my shot to" in white on a Carolina blue background, and then an injection-needle shaped blank where it's intended that people write in their personal motivation for getting the vaccine. Since there's no ellipses after the "to," people haven't generally gotten the point of button right away, so if they seem interested, sometimes I explain.

So far (but in the beginning especially), it was really only elderly folks who were coming through the Friday Center. Maybe it's just a generational difference, but it seems to me that there's something about being older that makes people more willing to really engage during even smaller, transactional interactions. I point this out because I wasn't expecting too many people to have much to say about the button, but every day I've volunteered, when I explain the intent behind the blank on the button, there's been a handful of people who share what they're most excited about. Some of their responses addressed parts of life as an elderly person in a pandemic that I'd thought about before, like traveling and visiting family. But others pointed out aspects of their lives that I hadn't necesarily thought as much about before, and cut a little deeper.

There was the group of three old women who were all smiles when I walked up to them. They'd gotten their shots as a trio and said they couldn't wait to finally go out to brunch together gain. Then there was the elderly couple who told me with shiny eyes that they would finally be able to meet their grandson, born in September. But maybe the most impactful one I heard was from an older man, who, when I handed him the button and explained, barked out a dry laugh and said, "I got my shot to... survive!" There were people in their seventies and people in their nineties--even one woman who was a hundred and one years old!--and flip phones (with their ringers on) going off every few minutes. These people have been afraid to leave the house for nearly a year, isolated in ways I hadn't imagined. Sure, I can't really travel or visit family like I used to, but I live with friends and am able to use Zoom and Skype with no issue. For the elderly, getting together with friends--or even any other human--might not be a regular occurrence, and life is probably pretty lonely when the only outside connection you have is through a flip phone. I've been lucky; I haven't missed any milestone family events, no one I personally know has died of COVID, and I've been able to transfer my life online, still "on track" with all my work and school pursuits. And all this time, I've known that even if I were to catch the virus, in all likelihood, I would survive. That hasn't been the case for everyone.

I'm beyond grateful for the quick development of the vaccine. It's been beautiful to see the relief and joy that it has brought. I'm proud to be a part, in some small way, of the effort to get this pandemic over with and bring some safety and togetherness back to people's lives.