As a pediatrician, I’ve witnessed countless children receive their booster vaccinations before starting kindergarten. Each child reacts to the experience according to their personality. My daughter sobbed and requested a wheelchair to leave the appointment. My son, with tears in his eyes, remarked, “You shouldn’t have let her do that to me.” Meanwhile, my other son stormed out, exclaiming, “I didn’t like that!”
Regardless of their reactions, all children leave with band-aids on their thighs, symbolic of the emotional journey they’ve just experienced and, from my perspective, the protection they gain from vaccinations. Some leave cradled in their parents’ arms, while others walk out proudly, eager to show off their band-aids, often wearing them for days as a reminder of their bravery.
This week, I received my first COVID vaccine. As my group was called, I walked into the venue, surrounded by healthcare workers who have tirelessly endured this pandemic. Upon entering, I was met with cheers and applause. The staff wore festive hats and held balloons, while Johnny Mathis’s “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” played nearby.
I didn’t anticipate feeling emotional as I approached for my shot, yet tears streamed down my face. After receiving my vaccine and donning a bright yellow band-aid, I sat down to wait for the observation period, still grappling with my unexpected tears as I glanced around, wondering if I was alone in my emotional response.
In the medical field, we’re trained to handle emergencies with composure. We learn to compartmentalize our feelings and move swiftly from one patient to the next. If we were to dwell on each situation, we might not survive the day. Yet, after ten months of relentless pressure, it becomes increasingly difficult to maintain that emotional distance. We have seen doctors pleading for the public to take the pandemic seriously as hospital beds filled to capacity, with no end in sight. Nurses have reached a breaking point, overwhelmed by the emotional toll of caring for patients on the brink of death.
They not only provide medical care but also act as representatives for families who cannot be with their loved ones during their final moments. The weight of this responsibility, especially in ICUs and emergency departments, is unimaginable.
One of my colleagues also shed tears after her COVID shot, expressing, “There’s a weight that immediately lifts. It feels exciting and innovative. In that moment, I realized just how much stress we’ve all been under.”
As I left with my bright yellow band-aid, I felt a kinship with thousands of colleagues from my hospital, all sporting similar symbols of resilience. Like a child reluctant to part with a band-aid, I hesitated to remove mine the next day. It represented not only what we have endured but also the relief of being vaccinated and the hope that this pandemic may soon come to a close.
In the spring, my husband and I listened to Dr. Fauci speak, and we felt tears welling in our eyes. Despite the division and misinformation in the world, hearing a knowledgeable physician like Dr. Fauci reassured us that there are still brilliant minds dedicated to doing good.
My tears were for the countless individuals who have tragically lost their lives to COVID-19. They were also tears of gratitude—gratitude for the healthcare workers who cheered us on, marking what we hope is the beginning of the end of this crisis. I felt thankful for the scientists who developed the vaccine so rapidly, as well as for the nurses, doctors, and countless others who played a role in bringing this vaccine from concept to reality.
I’m grateful for essential workers in grocery stores, post offices, and delivery services who continued to show up, ensuring our country kept running. I also appreciate those who worked from home, balancing family life and education for their children. And I am thankful for the teachers wearing PPE, educating the next generation, preparing them to lead us through future challenges.
So yes, I cried during my COVID vaccination, and, like the children I see in my office, my yellow band-aid symbolizes so much. Rather than tears of fear and anger, mine were of relief, gratitude, and respect for all those who rise to meet their responsibilities each day. My band-aid signifies protection—not only for myself but for those I love from COVID moving forward. Perhaps next year, the isolation and fear will finally fade.
For more insights on related topics, check out this article from our other blog post, or learn more about the journey of pregnancy with resources from Healthline.
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Summary:
In Dr. Emily Carter’s reflection on receiving her COVID vaccine, she shares her emotional experience, drawing parallels between her feelings and those of children receiving vaccinations. She expresses gratitude for healthcare workers, scientists, and essential personnel who have faced immense challenges during the pandemic. Her yellow band-aid symbolizes relief, hope, and a commitment to protecting loved ones as society moves toward recovery.
Keyphrase: COVID vaccine emotional experience
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