My relationship with vaccines and viruses is a complicated and sometimes adversarial one. It was a vaccination that sent my father into an autoimmune crisis, and it was a virus that ultimately claimed his life.
Back in the early ‘80s, my dad was a budding endocrinologist. Working his way through medical school, he was handsome, strong, and on his way to a successful career as an ARMY doctor. He had a beautiful wife (my mother), a toddler (my older sister), and a new baby (myself). He seemed unstoppable. That changed abruptly when he was slated to go overseas for a temporary assignment.
All personnel were required to have a broad array of vaccines for this particular trip- my father included. As far as I know, he didn’t give it much thought. Shortly after the injections, however, he began to rapidly decline. Crushing fatigue, skin ulcers that wouldn’t heal, loss of sensation, and so many other warning signs became flashing sirens that something was terribly wrong. With fear and anxiety increasing, he ran tests on himself- a doctor’s prerogative. To his horror, my dad discovered that his ANA titer (a measure used to detect autoimmune disease) was off the charts. He was in autoimmune meltdown. He was soon diagnosed with scleroderma and given about 2 years to live.
By the grace of God, massive doses of life-saving medication resulted in a sort of remission and stopped the disease from actively killing him- but not before claiming his health. The raging attack was halted only after permanent damage had occurred to his esophagus and other parts of his body. The rest of his life was altered with a careful medication schedule, constant discomfort, and the threat of a dangerous flare at any time.
Because of the risk of another scleroderma hyperdrive, my father could no longer get any vaccines. It wasn’t even something to be considered. The risk of his body reacting and attacking itself again was too great. His team of doctors warned strongly against a flu shot. As a doctor himself (and now a patient)- he agreed.
For many years he got little illnesses like anyone else, and his body beat them, but in 2008- while working at the VA hospital- my father contracted the flu. Unlike a “regular” person, chicken soup and bedrest was not enough to overcome it. The simple coughing from the illness caused bacteria to enter his bloodstream through his extremely damaged and eroded esophagus. He went septic and passed away within a day of the sepsis onset. When he passed, the ARMY determined that his death was a work-related casualty since the initial flare of his disease was a clear result of his ARMY-required vaccine years ago.
It was the most traumatic event and devastating loss our family could imagine. Almost fourteen years later, his absence continues to reverberate. I will never know anyone like him again.
And so it is that in my grief I find myself at cross purposes with the idea of unexpected vaccinations. My dad was one of the few people with a horrible vaccine side effect (in his case a latent disease that was escalated at warp speed from a bad reaction) and also one of the few to fall victim to a viral infection against which he couldn’t be protected.
Despite his own experience, my father believed in vaccines and had all of his children vaccinated with the tried-and-true panel of children’s shots. I have done the same for my young son. Nevertheless, my dad WAS one of the few people who have severe vaccine reactions. I’m not as quick to embrace vaccinations that have not stood the test of time, those for the very low-risk, or those for people who are more likely to have a reaction.
I believe that during this time of uncertainty, conscience should be honored. Those who have already had COVID should certainly not be pressured. Young men who are at higher risk of heart complications than COVID complications should not be shuffled through the process as if their own safety doesn’t matter at all. People with autoimmune conditions (like myself, as bad luck would have it) and other chronic illness sufferers should not be badgered and threatened with social isolation if they don’t put themselves at risk of a reaction. Very young children should not be vaccinated until further research- and time- shows its effect on them.
I also believe that people who want the extra protection of vaccination should absolutely have that option. It is right for the drug companies and the government to make it widely available (which it now is)…but not to enforce it by threat. My father was obviously in extra danger during flu season. His options to protect himself were few. He chose to live his life and treat his patients regardless, but every day was a risk for him. If people choose to get any vaccine- including the COVID-19 vaccine- to ameliorate their own risk, then good for them. They should likewise not be characterized as enemies of personal freedom for getting “the jab.”
While I see both the case for the COVID vaccine and the case for caution, my dad’s tragic story confirms to me what I think I would have believed regardless- that people do deserve a choice. They should be able to evaluate their own risk. Vaccine mandates are wrong. As my father’s case shows, people can be predisposed to a bad reaction and not even realize it yet. That’s even more reason for those with any reservations to have the OPTION not to be vaccinated without losing their livelihoods or experiencing other retaliatory effects. Those who want it should certainly do it for themselves and for those who feel they can’t (which also describes my father).
It’s my hope that by sharing one man’s story- my precious father’s- people might see the humanity behind the issue and realize that for some, no choice related to this particular vaccine is an easy one. Let’s all have a little grace for our neighbors.
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Jackie Chea is a blogger from San Antonio, Texas who holds a B.A. in Psychology and an M.A. in Community Counseling from the University of Texas at San Antonio. She writes on political and cultural issues from a conservative, religious standpoint. She lives in the Lone Star State with her husband Nick, her 5-year-old son Lincoln, and her rescue dogs. |
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