What it's like being 4x vaccinated in March 2022

 I've been flirting with sharing this story for some time now, since every time I casually mention to anybody around me that I've already been vaccinated four times people tend to do a doubletake and then ask me if I'm crazy. I received four vaccine shots probably before most folks started getting their first booster shot (first dose received February 2021, fourth in July 2021). 

I learned today that Moderna requested the FDA (USA Food and Drug Administration, for non-Americans) to approve a second booster shot for adults (aged 65 and up for now), and I don't see why it won't be approved, but I also know that there are still lots of folks arguing about whether it's a good idea to even get their first shot, nevertheless four. 

I stand as a living testimony to the effectiveness of four Moderna shots and impervious to COVID-19 to date (knock on wood) despite living with - and spending Christmas with - a COVID-positive flatmate who had the highly contagious omicron variant, not to mention however many encounters with COVID-positive folks I've likely had over the past year and some.

So, I've told you the who and the what and the when of the story; here are the rest of the details:

Where? I received my first set of vaccinations in the States. While it was unfortunate that I got stuck in the US for the first half of my second semester of my masters program in Smart Cities and Communities instead of in Mons, Belgium, where I had a cute 300+ year-old flat with my classmate waiting for me to keep her company in the midst of the lockdown-like restrictions still in place at the time, I was fortunate enough to be able to get early access to the COVID-19 vaccines and receive both doses while waiting for my visa to be approved. At this time, in most places only those aged 65+ or at risk or frontline workers were eligible to be vaccinated; however, given that there were many situations of extra vaccines due to no-shows, etc., I got lucky enough to snag an extra vaccine that happened to be available. Once that was accomplished, it was just a matter of being scheduled in to receive the second dose one month down the road. 

The second set of vaccines (also Moderna, #ModernaGal) was obtained in Belgium. When the vaccines became more available throughout the country for the younger age groups, we received a letter from the health ministry inviting us to come in for vaccinations, which began around June for the Wallonie region.

Why? Why not? I love shots! Just kidding. While I was confident in the effectiveness of just two doses, I was not confident in the small white paper card that was provided a la CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) when I received my shots in the States. Given that the EU was in discussion about a Digital Green Certificate, and having already had paperwork problems which barred me from boarding a plane a few months back, I was wary that flashing my plain CDC card with the handwritten details of my vaccinations would fly (see what I did there?) with any boarding agent. I also figured that the Belgian records system for vaccinations had not be developed enough to somehow incorporate vaccinations from somewhere outside of Belgium. Hence, after consulting with a doctor to ensure that there weren't any risks of getting an extra round of shots (in addition to the vaccines, there was also the matter of how recently I'd had a needle stuck into my arm), I received my two shots at a health clinic in Mons, and also obtained a Digital COVID Certificate.  

So what was/is it like?

  • Physically: the third and fourth shots were similar to getting my second shot. I was lucky and had relatively minor symptoms - low-grade fever, mostly felt really tired and out of it for a day with a very sore and itchy arm. I have not yet contracted COVID-19 (knock on wood again) that I'm aware of, even after having several close contacts and even being in the same flat with somebody who had the omicron variant. 
  • Logistically: since folks in the US didn't really know (or accept the EU digital certificate) for a while -- Hawaii entry requirements in August 2021, I'm looking at you -- it was really nice to have a CDC card to wave around while in the States. Since everybody in Europe has a QR scanner and automatic recognition of the EU digital certificate documentation, it makes life really easy to just pull up my Belgian health app that has the copy of the QR code to my digital health certificate wherever I go (airports, establishments, etc.). The only hiccup is that now that some places are requiring a booster shot or a final vaccine dose older than 180 days (this expiration period varies by country), I don't know if this means that I will need to go back in for a 5th shot sometime soon if only to comply with bureaucratic requirements. The last doctor I brought this concern up with asked if I really liked getting vaccines and told me not to worry about it, so for now, that's where I'm at, although it's looking more like I'll probably end up getting another (read: 5th) booster sometime soon. If you'd like to accompany me on this saga, hit subscribe / leave a note in the comments letting me know!  

Moral of the story: if you haven't already and you can, go get vaccinated. 

Questions? Happy to share stories about how I got stuck in the States, or about my close calls with COVID, or about spending Christmas with my COVID-positive flatmate, or even about what it was like leaving my job and the US to start a master's degree in Europe that requires moving every 6 months in the middle of a global pandemic. Drop a comment with what you'd like to read about! 



on the concept of home

found this draft written on July 1, 2013, and thought it still feels relevant. better posting it later than never? 

re-reading this 9 years down the road, i have called so many more places home since that i don't know that i have a singular Home. i suppose that's why the adage "Home is where the heart is" still rings true for so many. i also recognize more now when a place has become Home, although it still takes a trip away and coming back to the comforts of my known environment and bed for me to savor the feeling of being in a place i can call home. maybe leaving and losing that feeling of Home so many times has taught me at this point in life to recognize it sooner?  
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how do you know when a place has become Home (with a capital H)?

in all the corners of the world where one might discover herself, what sets one nook apart from the other? is it measured by time? depth of immersion? number of relationships?

i think we all grow up with this concept of Home. for most people, Home is where they have grown up, where their parents live, or where their hometown is. Home

Home is that place where you always come back to, where you are always hating and loving and the same time, itching to leave but longing to return.

but Home is also moments frozen in time.

if you venture outside of the confines of your house, you discover a whole new world, and when you travel - be it to sleepaway camp, university, another country - you start experiencing new feelings that are nostalgic and meeting new people that feel like old friends, who become your brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers, and the streets that you walk over and over again to the point where you could walk blindfolded from the local favorite nightspot back home -- but you don't really think about it. you don't consider it, or recognize it, or know that that kind of familiarity is indicative of a great significance.

you know a place has become Home only after you're gone. once you are no longer there, something twists inside your heart every time you see something that invariably reminds you of Home. odds are, there will be many more reminders than less. this is how you recognize what Home has become.

you know a place has become Home when your next new home feels strange, alien, and even though it is beautiful, it is excruciatingly difficult to open up your heart again, to try to share it when it has already been given away to someplace else.

you know a place has become home when you are desperate to see those who have become your family, even as you try to build a new community around yourself. you meet lots of people, but very few really, and something feels hollow, and you constantly compare and think back to the family you've left behind, even if they are no longer there themselves. you hungrily scan through Facebook photos as if by seeing their faces they will be closer to you once more the way they were when you were cooking dinner together less than one week ago.

you know a place has become Home only after you have left.