Hereafter the vaccine

I believed that vaccines could prevent diseases and save lives. So in March-April, 2021, I had taken the two prescribed doses of the vaccine for COVID-19. I had no trouble with them. In December, 2021, providers were offering another shot—a booster. I took it. For four or five hours, I had no problem. But then my bowels poured out their contents, and about every half hour for about three hours this happened again. Each time I was amazed at how much fluid I was losing. After the last trip to the toilet, I wondered whether I’d have enough strength to stand up and walk back to the bed. I managed to get just outside the bathroom door. I don’t remember falling down. I was unconscious. My wife told me that I wasn’t breathing and was not responding to her voice or the pressure of her hands. She called 911.

When I awoke, I saw the pile of the carpet from the side. I said “Where am I?”. But that was just something to say to my wife. I was awake and fully oriented. I knew exactly where I was and what had happened: I had passed out and regained consciousness.

Paramedics took me to an emergency room where I received an intravenous three liters of normal saline. Although I imagined that the vaccine might have played a role in producing my condition, I did not think, nor do I now think, that I have the expertise to make such a claim. But the doctor in charge of my care said without qualification that she was “100% sure that the vaccine was responsible”.

I still believe in the benefits that vaccines can offer. Yet I am a little reluctant to jump at the chance to get the next booster to combat COVID-19. I suppose I will wait to be moved by a strong fear that without the jab I’ll very likely die.

Even as I was still on the floor and looking at the carpet, I tried to think of a word to describe my experience, and quickly I hit on “peaceful”. That was accurate in one way: there was no pain, no fear, no unpleasant feeling of any kind. But very soon I thought of a word that described my situation better, in fact perfectly: nothingness. There was no bright white light. I heard no angels singing. I didn’t imagine my body hovering over the scene.

A Christian would likely say “You weren’t dead; you didn’t see God or hear the angels singing because you were still alive”. Fair enough. But suppose I had died and my eyes could no longer see. I would then see the bright white light. Suppose I had died and my ears could no longer hear. I would then hear the angels singing. Is there a problem with the logic here? The one enduring result of my experience was this: I came away with a sense that I might view death not with dread but with serenity.