Where Does Truth Come From?

 As a physician and Christian, I have been frustrated over the last 2 years with the alarming anti-science response to the pandemic. Two years ago, I shared worst-case predictions of 2.2 million COVID-19-related deaths. I was optimistic that the American people would “flatten the curve” of COVID-19 cases, but the early seeds of doubt and misinformation were already being sown. Ironically, by the time vaccines were available, science had become an enemy. Dr. Anthony Fauci, Director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID) since 1984 and trusted advisor to seven Presidents on HIV/AIDS and many global health issues, including the COVID-19 pandemic, became the hated face of science. The loss of trust in science has profound implications not only for the COVID-19 pandemic, but also for healthcare in general.

Francis Collins, a professing Christian who led the Human Genome Project and recently retired as director of the National Institutes of Health, noted that many white evangelicals have been “victimized by the misinformation and lies and conspiracies that are floating around, particularly on social media and some of it in cable news.” Moreover, he said people are dying as a result. “I am just basically heartbroken in a circumstance where, as an answer to prayer, vaccines have been developed that turned out to be much better than we dared to hope for.” Vaccination rates in the US remain stagnant at 65%. Only 47% of Angelina County are vaccinated, with a mere 17% having received a booster, compared with 28% nationwide.

 Some evangelical pastors, whose political power goals – idols, really – appear to be more important than biblical mandates to love our neighbor and care for the least of these, tolerated and often promoted misinformation as opposed to vaccination, often in sync with a deep mistrust of government (except that of former President Trump). This misplaced “faith” won out over science, with the result that far more of our fellow Americans died of COVID-19 than should have – an astounding one million of us so far.

 Denial of the seriousness of COVID-19, promotion of unproven treatments, and rejection of highly safe and effective vaccines are all more common in evangelical Christian circles. Refusing vaccination became the new creed for many – a mark of membership in a chimera Christian nationalism faith, where wearing a mask in church is considered a political statement and not a safety measure.

For those of us who are Christian and work in science-related fields, the chasm that exists – unnecessarily, I might add – between faith and science is perplexing. In 2015 in an article title Are Evangelicals Anti-Science? Sara Kropp Brown noted that “evangelicals are more than twice as likely as the general public (29 percent vs. 14 percent) to say that science and religion are in conflict and that they are on the side of religion” and that “evangelicals are twice as likely as other groups to look to church leaders for answers to their questions about science.” Pandemic politics are certain to have made those numbers worse.

Historically, there was no inherent conflict between science and religion. Scientists have often been men and women of deep faith, including geneticists, physicists, and mathematicians. Augustine of Hippo (354-420 AD) is often attributed with saying “All truth is God’s truth.” The actual quote from On Christian Doctrine (Book II) is right on target in today’s anti-science, anti-vax, misinformation climate:

Nay, but let every good and true Christian understand that wherever truth may be found, it belongs to his Master; and while he recognizes and acknowledges the truth, even in their religious literature, let him reject the figments of superstition, and let him grieve over and avoid men who, “when they knew God, glorified him not as God, neither were thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools, and changed the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things.” Romans 1:21-23

 But we cannot claim “truth” and twist circumstances (sins of commission and omission) to suit our needs. Commenting in Bez & Co, Daniel R. Jones notes, “If we focus wholly on fragmented “truths” without getting around to glorifying God, we’re only exercising our own pride.”

 Reformation theologian John Calvin, commenting on Titus 1:12, put it pretty bluntly: “All truth is from God; and consequently, if wicked men have said anything that is true and just, we ought not to reject it; for it has come from God.” Christians must recognize truth wherever it is found or we dishonor God, even if that truth comes from people you may think “wicked” from across the political aisle, another denomination, or a different race.

 Truth, along with fellow virtues of justice and love, are side casualties in the unnecessary war between science and faith. People of faith across the political spectrum are being manipulated by politicians only interested in power – not truth, and certainly not the gospel’s command to love our neighbor as ourselves. Let’s take vaccination as a moral truth example applied to Philippians 4:8 (parentheses mine):

 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true (vaccines work), whatever is noble (vaccines save lives), whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy (preventing millions of deaths worldwide)—think about such things.

 This pandemic wave may be dying down, but the truth battle goes on. Science and religion are not incompatible. If the church claims so, she loses credibility. “The culture war is literally killing people,” Collins said. Let’s hope the culture war doesn’t kill the church as well.

Scarlet Letters and Healthcare

When I was in high school in the 1970s, one of our reading assignments was The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Though subtitled “A Romance”, I doubt any high school boy was interested in love per se; rather, we were consumed with the forbidden thrill of sex outside of marriage and the subsequent public humiliation of the offenders – at least the young Hester Prynne in the story, who was both imprisoned and forced to parade in public, forever wearing an embroidered scarlet “A” (for adulterer) over her breast. Nothing like the threat of guilt (or disease!) to keep a young boy “pure,” or so we were raised to believe.

Then there was Mary Mallon, an Irish immigrant and domestic worker and cook in New York City in the early 1900s. She was also an asymptomatic carrier of Salmonella typhi, bacteria that infect the gastrointestinal tract and blood. Seven of the eight families she worked for contracted typhoid fever, which at the time had a 10% fatality rate. She refused to believe she was the source of disease – she wasn’t sick herself, and the concepts of germs and hygiene disease were in their infancy at best – and she continued to work and evade authorities for quite some time. She ultimately was forced to live in quarantine for decades and died alone. She will forever be known as Typhoid Mary.

There have been times in history when labels like “Typhoid Mary” or Hester Prynne’s scarlet “A” have carried an even more sinister meaning. As part of the Nazi extermination program during World War II, Jews were forced to wear a yellow Star of David on their outer clothing with the local language word for “Jew” inscribed in the star. According to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, “[The Nazis] used the badge not only to stigmatize and humiliate Jews but also to segregate them, to watch and control their movements, and to prepare for deportation.” For six million Jews and millions of others, including homosexuals and the disabled, that meant death. January 27 was International Holocaust Remembrance Day. I was reminded that day by an old friend of her parents, who were some of the few survivors of Auschwitz. They bore the forearm prisoner identification tattoos they received in the concentration camp as teenagers for the rest of their lives.

Being reared in a conservative and deeply religious community, my formative sense of morals in high school was very black and white. An ethic where actions are only right or wrong leads to equally black and white decisions to punish or not (and, obviously, wrongdoing should never go unpunished!) – in other words, not unlike the Puritan ethic in The Scarlet Letter. There was little room for nuance or grace. 

Healthcare shaming is not unique to Typhoid Mary. Think of the AIDS crisis, when just being gay was considered a disease. Now the COVID-19 pandemic – especially with the ubiquity of social media – has taken public shaming into a new and different realm. To die from COVID-19 now that vaccines are available is practically to have a scarlet “C” affixed to your name and legacy, forcing some families to keep COVID-19 deaths a secret in order to protect them from shame and social stigmatization. Some are separating victims into the vaccinated – worthy of our sorrow – and the unvaccinated – deserving only of disgrace. Websites have sprung up shaming victims with great vitriol. As The Atlantic noted, “With the arrival of vaccines, compassion for COVID-19 deaths began to dry up, sometimes replaced by scorn.” Facebook and Instagram accounts of the deceased and their relatives can be flooded with mocking comments. It is public COVID-19 shaming as blood sport. One family, while acknowledging their loved one who died from COVID-19 was not vaccinated, nonetheless pointed out that vaccination decisions have been quite difficult for some. “We think he was a victim of misinformation,” the deceased’s daughter lamented. She was pleading for understanding and grace.

Unfortunately, we have more of a Puritan mindset all around than we care to admit. Legalism and judgmentalism are increasing on both sides of the political spectrum, with some on the right fighting to have government enforce their preferred religious beliefs and some on the left want to cancel those who they deem to be bigoted. Neither extreme allows dissent or disagreement. Despite our talk of tolerance, we only tolerate that with which we agree. Black and white. Judgment only. No grace. Depeche Mode sang about it in their 1984 hit: People are people / So why should it be / You and I should get along so awfully / So we're different colours / And we're different creeds / And different people have different needs / It's obvious you hate me / Though I've done nothing wrong / I've never even met you so what could I have done. 

We cannot minimize the incredible number of deaths in this pandemic – nearly one million so far – or deny that choices (both societal and individual) have consequences. As I started this column, a good friend’s unvaccinated 20-something niece was on a ventilator with respiratory and liver failure due to COVID-19. She, too, is a victim of misinformation as well as COVID-19, in her case pervasive and false information about vaccine effects on fertility. No amount of gentle urging on the part of relatives could convince her once that doubt was seeded. She was one of the fortunate ones who came off the ventilator and was discharged home, but she still has a lengthy recovery ahead. This family needs prayer and grace, not a scarlet “C.”

Though we are understandably tired of the pandemic – tired of masks, tired of vaccines and boosters – we cannot allow ourselves to tire of compassion, even as we fight to educate and persuade. The Puritans in The Scarlet Letter were so busy judging that they could not feel empathy. Compassion for others forbids us from placing a scarlet letter on anyone’s chest. We don’t know – and don’t need to know – the back story of the injured traveler in the Parable of the Good Samaritan. What was he doing on that road at that time of day? Shouldn’t he have known better? We are simply commanded to have mercy, loving our neighbor as ourselves.

Practicing Grace in 2022

A year ago, we tried to say goodbye to 2020. We envisioned a relatively quick end to COVID-19. The Holy Grail of 2020 – a vaccine against COVID-19 – was found, only to be ignored by so many like an unwanted Christmas present. 2020 did not go away – it decided to reincarnate as 2021. 

Of course, COVID remained the dominant issue this last year, but a capital riot, the Afghanistan exit, and ongoing supply chain issues were not far behind. Crime is on the rise, but it is primarily a wave of violence, not property crime.  Lufkin saw 14 violent deaths in 2021.  

Violence is rearing its ugly head in other ways. Airline passengers have been getting increasingly disruptive for years now, but pandemic restrictions seem to have made things even worse. Eighty five percent of flight attendants said they'd dealt with unruly passengers in 2021, and 17% said they'd been victim of a physical attack.  

You’ve seen it around, haven’t you? This increase in anger and rage. People losing it in the checkout lane, at a restaurant, on a plane. There have always been mean people, of course. But those in customer service are seeing a new level of meanness.  One employee remarked, “People are just — I hate to say it because there are a lot of really nice people — but when they’re mean, they’re a heck of a lot meaner.” 

Verbal violence is all around us and the pandemic has only made it worse. Network and streaming talking heads demonstrate that the exchange of ideas must mean an exchange of barbs, and expressing a political opinion requires a personal attack. We end up raging against cancel culture out of one side of our mouth while simultaneously canceling those who don’t agree with us out of the other, and we argue about who is the bigger hypocrite.  David French writes that the problem of cancel culture is just as much who it empowers as who it attempts to silence.  Cruelty is becoming the norm in public discourse, at least for the loudest and most empowered voices. Nice guys tend to stay silent, afraid of getting hurt. 

As a Christian, I read the Beatitudes  – some of Jesus’ earliest teachings – as a guide for personal discipleship. Regardless of one’s faith, they can serve as a moral compass – a way to extend grace: Blessed are the meek, the poor in spirit, the pure in heart, the peacemakers. All Christians struggle with “walking the walk” – with practicing on Monday what we preach on Sunday. 

As the Evangelical Right activists became increasingly drawn like a moth to the dangerous flame of politics, I believe they began to compartmentalize political morals from personal ones. Otherwise, how could they survive and operate in both worlds without the obvious hypocrisy tearing them apart? The fundamental question is whether or not political interactions should reflect personal moral beliefs. It’s a rhetorical question: they should and do. We cannot truly believe one thing on Sunday and behave differently in the political arena.

Yet some political figures want to sweep the Beatitudes and other teachings of Jesus under the rug, touting a much more strident message. Donald Trump Jr. recently told a conference of young conservative activists the turn-the-other-cheek principles of Jesus have “gotten us nothing.”  As he fired up the group, he acknowledged that “this will be contrary to a lot of our beliefs… but we better be playing the same [cancel culture] game.”  Peter Werner, describing the result of this new political ‘gospel’ in The Atlantic, noted, “If the ethic of Jesus encourages sensibilities that might cause people in politics to act a little less brutally, a bit more civilly, with a touch more grace? Then it needs to go.”  

Whether it is in the political arena, at the airport, or in the corner store, a Christian cannot embody anger and rage in the public arena and expect anything but disdain for the cross around their neck. We can’t chant “Let’s go, Brandon!” at a football game on Saturday and in good conscience sing Amazing Grace on Sunday. As the Christian rock band Casting Crowns asks in their provocative track "Start Right Here":  “What if the church on Sunday / Was still the church on Monday too?” The song goes on to preach: “But church if we want to see a change in the world out there / It's got to start right here / It's got to start right now.”

That change – that move toward authenticity, civility and healing – must start with grace. 

In a recent New York Times opinion piece following the death of Nobel Peace Prize recipient Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who against all odds led the historic Truth and Reconciliation Commission to unify and heal South Africa after more than 40 years of apartheid rule, it was lamented that “In our [United States] culture, reconciliation is often impossible because one side is hellbent on proving that it is right and the other side wrong.”  Civility does not preclude having strong opinions or convictions. Forgiveness does not preclude justice. Love is not weakness.

A practical example: Sometimes all it takes to show grace is taking that extra second or two to think before responding to someone, whether verbally or on social media. (It seems like half of Proverbs is wisdom about taming your tongue.) Online hateful rhetoric doesn’t have to be “liked”, much less forwarded. It’s OK simply to ignore it. Beyond not diving in the social media or political mud pit, how about doing something practical to help out those in your community who are less fortunate? Tim Miller notes that “a culture that does not offer hope and comfort and uplift alongside suffering will not survive.”  

We can make 2022 a year full of grace by loving more, hating less, taming our tongues, and extending grace. Practicing grace takes… well… practice – not just on Sunday, but every day. Let’s all start right here, right now.

Health Literacy, a Pandemic, and the Church

One year ago, a winter wave of COVID-19 cases was starting to surge. The United States had already seen over 250,000 deaths.  The hope of a vaccine was just around the corner. Yet a COVID-19 vaccine misinformation campaign was already well underway.  Now we are approaching a staggering 1 million excess deaths due to COVID-19,  despite having multiple safe and effective vaccines. Why are so many not only not vaccinated against COVID-19,  but angrily opposed only to these particular vaccines against this specific illness?

Also in 2020 – and coincidental to the growing pandemic – UnitedHealth Group issued a report  on health literacy, which is the ability of people to access, understand and use information to promote good health. They noted that health literacy, like other social determinants of health  – social and physical environments, behaviors, access to healthcare, poverty, education, etc. – varies greatly across the country. Maps of health literacy  look similar to maps of county health rankings,  obesity,  heart disease,  poverty,  and education level  – generally worse across the Deep South.

In the paternalistic days of healthcare, health literacy was not even a concept. Patients relied on their physician to make healthcare decisions, trusting that he (almost all doctors were men) had their best interests at heart. Now we “shop” for healthcare as “consumers” in an increasingly transactional relationship. Big Pharma markets directly to the consumer through television, internet, social media, and streaming services. We Google for healthcare information. But are today’s consumer-patients any more educated or more capable of making informed healthcare decisions?

At a very basic level, health literacy must start with actual literacy. Twenty two percent of adults in my county can’t read a newspaper, which is written at around an 11th-grade level.  Add to that the fact that much healthcare information is even more difficult to read and understand, much less process critically. For example, I have otherwise educated patients who cannot tell me the names of the medications they are on and why they were prescribed.

And then along comes a pandemic, a fertile ground for a new, lethal combination of low health literacy and ubiquitous misinformation. A pre-pandemic systematic literature review on the spread of health-related misinformation on social media noted that accurate (often dull) scientific information is easily crowded out by sensationalized news.  The Internet of Everything  promised to help us live an efficient, informed life. Instead, it has produced a far darker reality of unquashable lies and misinformation that, in this perfect storm of pandemic and politics, has resulted in hundreds of thousands of avoidable deaths.  UnitedHealth Group’s report envisioned that increased health literacy might lead to 1 million fewer Medicare hospital visits each year and $25.4 billion in Medicare savings.  No small potatoes. They did not foresee this pandemic, where additional and avoidable COVID-19 hospitalization costs totaled $5.7 billion just from June to August 2021.  

Unfortunately, the evangelical church, of which I am a member, has been on the wrong side of the health literacy discussion, especially as it pertains to the COVID-19 vaccines.  I have written previously about the appalling attempt of many Evangelicals to claim religious exemptions.  Rather than a biblical love your neighbor message, the church – at least the Christian Right version of it – has promoted individual rights and selfishness as the greatest good. Rather than teaching the Beatitudes,  some in the church want to take over the state,  institute a theocracy and claim God’s blessing while doing it. Rather than preaching and being the Good Samaritan  to the pandemic ill, the Christian Right has chosen not only to walk on the other side of the road but to add to the toll of injured.

It is tragically ironic that the self-proclaimed pro-life Christian Right has raged against life-saving vaccination. Ted Cruz, the dominionist darling of the Christian Right,   vilified Big Bird for a “government propaganda” tweet about getting vaccinated.  The church – if it will preach the true pro-life gospel – can’t help but shine a light on this hypocrisy. For so many Evangelicals to fight against protecting and caring for others is not reflective of Christ’s teaching and, at a deeper level, heresy.

When it comes to solving the problem of low literacy and misinformation, avoiding social media and the commentary-based news media is a non-starter. Retracting misinformation is difficult, if not impossible. We have to learn to live with social media and understand that misinformation spreads faster and wider than factual information.  Health care providers must allocate time at every visit to assess what the patient does and does not know and to explain procedures, interventions, and medications in simple, clear language, avoiding jargon, verifying that the patient understands and can repeat back what they were told.  Most importantly, critical thinking should be treated as a core skill in education. We must educate people to be open-minded, to think beyond the noise, to observe and question, to be objective and look for biases, all with humility.

At the end of the day, too many in the Evangelical church allowed fear, misinformation and politics to replace compassion, service, and love. If the COVID-19 pandemic has taught us anything, it should be that loving our neighbors as ourselves is not a hollow commandment;  it saves lives.

The Miracles of Music and Medicine

I grew up in the Friday Night Lights of West Texas in the 60s and 70s, where sports – especially Midland Lee and Odessa Permian football – were king. A preemie who remained anemically skinny all through my school years, I also suffered from an uncorrected lazy eye, which resulted in no central vision in one eye and no functional depth perception. I could not catch a baseball or football to save my life. I truly was the proverbial kid who was picked last for every sports team. Luckily, at the age of seven I was already developing a talent for music. I started taking piano lessons in second grade and have been playing ever since.

Though I excelled academically in high school, I started at Rice University as a music major, though not on piano. I was fortunate to study with the principal clarinetist with the Houston Symphony. Thankfully, I came to several realizations my freshman year: 1) Though I was talented, I was not good enough on clarinet to make the big-league symphony orchestras and make a good living at it; 2) I found playing the same music over and over again a bit boring; and 3) I really wanted to go to medical school. I loved music (and continue to love it, just not playing the clarinet). But I did not want to make music my life’s work. Now, I have the best of both worlds – I have a wonderful career and I get to enjoy music on the side.

The other evening, I was sitting at my piano practicing an arrangement of “O Holy Night.” My daughter, a classically trained soprano, will be singing this at Christmastime and I have the great joy of being able to accompany her. As I was playing – glancing between the written music and my fingers on the keys, listening to the sound fill the room – I had the distinct realization of what a miracle music is. At its most fundamental, the concept that various tones and rhythms can be combined in a non-random fashion and be pleasing to the ear both for the performer and the listener is a mirror of creation. Add to that the genius of the development of various musical instruments and the complexity of composition and performance and you arrive at what can only be described as a spiritual experience where the music and the musician combine in a true act of worship. 

As a pianist, it never ceases to amaze me that I can look at a splotchy group of dots on a page and translate that into an elegant motion of arms, hands, and ten fingers to make music. And when I can make music with others, the amazement and joy is amplified even more.

In 2014, Curt Fenley and I had the pleasure of bringing together the choirs and musicians of New Beginnings Baptist Church, under the musical leadership of Gregg Garcia, and our First Baptist Church for a combined Christmas program. We were without a music director at the time. That Christmas celebration demonstrated another miracle of music – the ability to bring a diverse group of people together for common good and purpose. 

These two churches continue to make music and worship together at Christmas! Under the excellent leadership of First Baptist’s John Lassitter and New Beginnings’ Gregg Garcia, we are practicing for our eighth annual Christmas celebration, to be held on Sunday, December 5th at First Baptist at 6 PM. Our weekly practices together, which can really be described as jam sessions, transport us all away from the daily grind to a place of unity and worship. I hope everyone will plan to attend this impressive Christmas celebration! Canned goods will be gathered in support of CISC as well.

On a more somber note, we are now approaching a staggering 1 million excess deaths due to COVID-19. Nearly 100,000 of those deaths are since vaccines have been widely available. As a cancer physician, it is mind-blowing that COVID-19 is killing more people than cancer. I am heartsick when I hear people I know and love continue to refuse vaccination because of an unrelenting campaign of lies and misinformation, both about the seriousness of COVID and the safety and effectiveness of the vaccines. This paper’s obituary page continues to be filled with tragic and preventable COVID deaths.

In the realm of cancer treatment, hardly a day goes by that patients aren’t clamoring for the latest experimental medicine, desperate to try anything they think will help, regardless of unproven effectiveness and potential harm. How ironic (and senseless) that we have a disease that is killing more people than cancer and people refuse to get a proven safe and effective vaccine. 

I am a rational, logical thinker. That does not mean my heart doesn’t ache when so many are dying for a lie or out of misplaced fear. I tell my reluctant terminal cancer patients who are afraid to take pain medication, once I have counseled them on appropriate use, that there is no virtue and no extra stars in their crown for hurting when they don’t have to. I feel the same way about unnecessary COVID illness and death – there is no virtue there. 

Martin Luther wrote, “My heart, which is so full to overflowing, has often been solaced and refreshed by music when sick and weary.” And so, I sit at my piano, calming my spirit and soothing my weary soul. As we enter the holiday season, I urge everyone to appreciate the miracle of music, yes, but also the miracle of modern medicine. Both have the power to heal. Let us thank God for both.

The Deception of Religious Exemptions

 On August 23, the FDA gave full approval to the Pfizer COVID-19 vaccine for individuals 16 years of age and older. This was supposed to be a time of celebration when everyone’s fears and doubts were finally relieved and the lines to vaccination sites extended around the block. After all, more than 200 million doses of the Pfizer vaccine have been administered in the US (not to mention 146 million Moderna doses and 14.5 million J&J doses). Safety and efficacy are proven. Yet only 53% of the population is fully vaccinated and the Delta variant is filling our hospitals and ICUs.

 Incentive payments for vaccination are increasingly common as school districts and colleges encourage vaccination to avoid shutting down in-person learning.   Prominent celebrities and politicians have encouraged vaccination, but others have been vocal opponents. What is apparent is that being nice is not enough to get people vaccinated.

 The FDA’s action lit the fire of vaccine mandates, which were rare when COVID-19 vaccines were under Emergency Use Authorization (most still are). Large hospital systems like Methodist hospital (which mandated vaccines at the end of March) and many major employers from McDonald’s and Walmart to Goldman Sachs have stepped up vaccine requirements. Delta Air Lines will require that employees be vaccinated or pay a $200 a month health insurance surcharge.  Beginning this month, the US military is requiring COVID-19 vaccination to maintain preparedness of our troops, much as they already do for any number of other infectious diseases.

In an article in The Atlantic titled Vaccine Refuser Don’t Get to Dictate Terms Anymore, author Juliette Kayyem says what a lot of vaccinated people are thinking: people who opt out of shots shouldn’t expect their employers, health insurers, and fellow citizens to accommodate them.

 The most vocal demands for accommodation are coming from what historically would have been the least expected place: religious conservatives. Some churches have offered blanket religious exemption letters for those who don’t want to take the COVID-19 vaccination, despite some religious leaders’ prohibitions. One particularly egregious – and frankly, immoral – means to the anti-COVID-19 vaccine end is the use of religious exemptions as a “pro-freedom” political position. This is not the old-style, radical fringe anti-vax movement, which opposes all vaccinations. However, the zeal of these mostly White evangelical Christians is no less extreme. Unfortunately, this segment of the Christian right is a sizable enough minority of the US population that achieving the high rate of vaccination needed to quell this pandemic has become a herculean, if not impossible, task.

True religious exemption requests are based on sincere religious beliefs. It defies credulity that in this era of declining church attendance and doubt that God even exists, sincere religious exemptions are suddenly in vogue. Religious leaders across the spectrum – Pope Francis, the Dalai Lama, the archbishop of Canterbury, the presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, the leadership of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, pastors, rabbis, imams, Hindu leaders, Buddhists, Sikhs, even Jehovah’s Witnesses – support vaccination.  Apart from all major religions looking askance at religious exemptions for COVID-19 vaccination, one leading bioethicist commented that most of the purportedly religious opposition to COVID-19 vaccination is not sincere; rather, it is “just a way to get out of having to take a vaccine.”

 Up to 2019 – prior to the pandemic – medical exemptions for vaccinations were rare. For example, the US median non-medical exemption rate among kindergartners was 2.0%. If the COVID-19 religious exemption rate was anticipated to be a mere 2%, we would not be talking about it. No matter the rate, Erwin Chemerinsky, dean of the UC Berkeley School of Law, argues that policies requiring vaccination against COVID-19 need not include, and should not include, exemptions for those who have religious objections to vaccinations. “No one, in practicing his or her religion, has a constitutional right to endanger others,” he writes. United Airlines apparently has taken that to heart, amending their mandatory vaccination policy to say that those granted religious exemptions will be placed on temporary unpaid leave and only allowed to return to work “once the pandemic meaningfully recedes”.

 It should be clear: If you have never refused a vaccination on religious grounds – if you are vaccinated against measles, mumps, rubella, diphtheria, tetanus, shingles, hepatitis, or any other infectious disease – then suddenly in 2021 you decide you don’t want to take the COVID-19 vaccination, that is not your religious belief. It is your political opinion. There is a huge difference, and the latter does not qualify you for exemption. And lest anyone think vaccine mandates are unconstitutional, think again. The US Supreme Court decided for vaccine mandates way back in 1905.

 There is a misplaced rage among too many Christians – yes, rage! – disingenuously cloaked in a dubious religious liberty narrative against safe, proven, life-saving vaccines. As political commentator, attorney, and Christian David French writes, “The very moral framework of millions of our fellow citizens—the way in which they understand the balance between liberty and responsibility—is gravely skewed.” The title of that recent column by French says it well: it’s time to stop rationalizing and enabling evangelical vaccine rejection. Amen to that. “But my freedom!”, some are screaming, as they want to claim vaccine mandates are the (evil) government’s way of suppressing the church. French thoughtfully argues there is no religious liberty interest in refusing the COVID-19 vaccine.

 As if we need reminding, liberties have limits. We are at a point where our “self”-centered society falsely believes that individual rights trump our responsibilities as citizens of our great democratic constitutional republic. All citizens – especially true Christians – should be doing everything in their power to care for the health and safety of others in this pandemic. That includes getting vaccinated. It is our civic and moral duty, if we would acknowledge it. Attempting to claim a religious exemption for the COVID-19 vaccines is, frankly, an egregious example of biblical bad fruit.  Let us all produce good fruit.

Anger in the Time of Coronavirus

What an emotional roller coaster the last year and a half has been! The pandemic and the election have been a double whammy on our mental health. Religious leaders are seeing a lot more anxiety and depression in their congregations. FiveThirtyEight notes that hatred now dominates American politics. Though we are learning more about potential long-term physical consequences of COVID-19 infection, I fear anger may be most damaging and lasting side effect of the pandemic.

I’m generally not an angry person. But there is a pervasive anger I suspect most of us are experiencing. It catches us off guard. By the time we are aware of it, we are about the explode. The triggers may be different for each of us. For some (like me), it is the failure of the country to get behind the greatest vaccine development and distribution effort in the history of the world. For others, it may be the political fallout of a lost election, or the decline of the church, or systemic racism, or immigration. Our anger has been whipped into a frenzy by presidents and politicians, by news organizations and social media. Our collective and individual anger switches are on an ever-shortening fuse. This is not healthy. Anger is tearing us apart from without and within. 

For example, vaccine hesitancy is the lead story in much of the news right now. The phrase vaccine hesitancy is kind. It is a gentle way of referring to the ever-hardening decision by far too many to refuse to save lives – theirs and others. Honestly, hesitancy describes very few now and grossly mischaracterizes the selfish and vehement opposition of too many to getting vaccinated – kamikaze cultism, as this paper called it. Vaccination rates have plummeted. The Delta variant is on the rise as a result. In states with low vaccination rates, more than 99% of COVID-19 deaths over the past six months were among unvaccinated people. Virtually all current COVID-19 hospitalizations and deaths in the United States are preventable.

We continue to give people the benefit of the doubt, hoping that the truly hesitant will step into the light, when the dark void of lies and misinformation has swallowed so many. Fear of the Delta variant may now be convincing some holdouts to get the jab. On the other hand, those falling on the straw man sword of freedom and personal responsibility will get to enjoy the consequences of their choices, which increasingly may mean wearing masks at work, regular nasal swab testing (isn’t that fun!), or even loss of employment. Some will die. Freedom to choose is a wonderful thing.

Does that sound cynical to you? Yes, I am cynical. And, as I said, angry even. As a cancer physician, I have determined that a healthier emotional reaction to the unvaccinated would be more like my compassionate-yet-uncompromising reaction to smokers, who often have a similar “personal rights” reaction to smoking restrictions (and who can be “addicted” not only to smoking, but also to the misinformation and rationalization that misplaces and overrides the very real health dangers that demand a broad societal response). One person I attempted to talk to about getting vaccinated said, “It is scary that we would capitulate to forced mandates. You agree with this one, but may not agree with the next. You may be very thankful later that people like me will stand in the gap regardless of the social stoning we are experiencing.” Yet very few of the anti-COVID-19 vaccine zealots are true libertarians. They are much more likely to view COVID-19 vaccine refusal as a statement of political identity and a test of party loyalty. And that social stoning? Self-inflicted wounds are an affront to the true coronavirus martyrs – those who lost their lives through the inaction of others. 

Don’t get me wrong – every COVID-19 death is tragic, regardless of the circumstances. My anger at the situation must not be seen as a lack of compassion for the person. Our healthcare system and the providers in it will do everything they can to care for those who are suffering and dying from COVID-19. 

The vaccine isn’t of the devil, folks, and it isn’t the mark of the beast, either. Ah, but anger is, including mine. When Jesus sent his apostles out to spread the gospel message – literally the good news – he didn’t tell them to get angry when the message was rejected. They were to shake the dust off their feet and move on. Some people laugh when I suggest it is a Christian duty to get vaccinated to help others, as if the Good Samaritan story has no modern pandemic equivalent. We should be protecting our neighbor, not infecting them. I’ve shaken off a lot of dust lately. Yet, I will continue to spread the good news that vaccines save lives.

Whether vaccines or elections, critical race theory or immigration, politics on the left or the right, we cannot let the sun go down on our anger. The antidote to anger is gratitude and love. It is hard to remain angry when you are counting your blessings and serving others. I’ve said it many times before, but the response of those claiming to be followers of Christ – and I count myself among those – should be to love our neighbor. 

Are you suffering from debilitating anger, anxiety, or depression? Seek help. The Burke Center is here for you. Reach out to them at https://myburke.org or by calling their 24-hour crisis hotline at 1-800-392-8343. 

Cognitive Dissonance, Trust, and COVID-19

Most of us have had our lives disrupted in some way as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic. As difficult as job loss and economic upheaval have been, it is the loss of life that is most tragic. Between March 1, 2020, and January 2, 2021, the US experienced 522,368 excess deaths, an incredible 22.9% more than expected. Though the vast majority of these excess deaths were directly COVID-related, deaths from other causes (heart disease, Alzheimer’s, and diabetes, for example) were also increased. Total COVID-19 deaths have now exceeded 600,000. Yet to hear some talk, you would think the coronavirus was nothing more than an excuse for the government to infringe on individual rights.

As the pandemic surged on, all anyone could talk about was controversy surrounding pandemic-related measures (masking and social distancing), COVID-19 interventions (hydroxychloroquine and bleach come to mind), and ultimately vaccinations. As illness and deaths mounted, an insidious combination of mixed messaging, misinformation and politics perpetrated an ironic and sinister distrust of science and healthcare.

It used to be common to joke about how little we trusted politicians. How is it that now we trust (some of) them more than scientists and doctors, even when it comes to science and medical information? There is cognitive dissonance here: A) Doctors are some of the smartest people around (so I’ve heard), and they are exquisitely skilled at preventing, diagnosing and treating illness; and B) Politicians are self-proclaimed experts at viral transmission, disease severity, drug effectiveness, and vaccine necessity.

Cognitive dissonance – holding on to conflicting or inconsistent positions – is not new in health-related matters. Smokers demonstrate it all the time: A) Smoking is bad for me; and B) I smoke. There is a fundamental conflict between what smokers know or should know (based on scientific facts) and what they do. Smokers resolve this internal conflict by trivializing (smoking is not that bad), rationalizing (at least I eat healthy and exercise), or trying to change or deny the facts (smoking didn’t cause my heart disease, COPD, or cancer). Deflecting blame for bad outcomes is common. The hard road to resolving the cognitive dissonance associated with smoking is to change behavior and quit.

I don’t mean to pick on smokers. Nicotine is addictive and quitting is quite hard. Every time I stop for a Ray’s bacon cheeseburger with onion rings or get an iced cookie from Confections (two of my favorite local eateries), I experience a bit of cognitive dissonance myself. I rationalize, I trivialize, I deny that it may be unhealthy. With diet, however, one can assess whether the hamburger or cookie is an occasional treat or a bad habit. The cognitive dissonance surrounding COVID-19 (and especially vaccines) is more problematic.

As a physician, I often do not know whether my patients believe what I say and will act on what I recommend. I strive to be seen as a trustworthy authority. Lack of trust – in me or the system – has consequences. Healthcare system distrust is associated with lower COVID-19 vaccination rates, especially in minority communities. In my field of oncology, distrust affects outcomes across the breast cancer continuum. Even before COVID-19, trust in doctors had plummeted by 75%. (The internet has turned everyone into an expert.) The odd anti-vaxxer, for example, used to be an easily dismissed anomaly. Now, a crippling vaccine hesitancy risks preventing COVID-19 herd immunity. The consequences could be devastating, as virtually every COVID death going forward is preventable.

Let’s consider: A) COVID-19 vaccines are readily available, wildly effective, very safe, and completely free (all verifiable facts); and B) Less than half of the United States is fully vaccinated. Cognitive dissonance. This isn’t just a problem in the United States. How are people responding to this inconsistency – this disconnect – between what we know (again, scientific facts) and what we do? It is the same playbook we saw earlier with smoking – that of trivialization, rationalization, and flat-out denial. Add in conspiracy theories and “it’s like choosing from which side of the flat Earth we’re going to jump off,” according to an obviously exasperated Dr. Luana Araújo, a Brazilian infectious diseases physician.

The apostle Paul struggled with the inconsistency between beliefs and actions in his letter to the Romans, admitting he doesn’t do the good he wants to do; rather, he does what he knows he shouldn’t do. Can we amen that? Paul even calls himself a wretched man as a result. That’s cognitive dissonance! Paul was instructing on the spiritual condition and the nature of sin and grace. I’m simply trying to get people to use common sense.

Where do you stand with COVID-19 vaccinations, and why? Seek the truth rather than trying to bend the facts to your preference. We have a misinformation pandemic where lies propagate across the internet further and faster than truths. What is the source of your knowledge? Is it science experts and doctors, or politicians promoting their own self-interest and conspiracy theories? Second, be willing to eat a little humble pie. Don’t throw logic and facts out the window in order to cling to pride or party. If you haven’t been vaccinated yet, you are allowed to change your mind! Making the wrong choice about vaccinations during this pandemic (especially with the newer, more virulent Delta variant on the rise) can have deadly consequences.

Hopefully we can get back to trusting the healthcare system and doctors more. Are we perfect? Of course not. We must earn your trust. I know I strive every day to do just that.

Vaccine Passports Are Coming

Like it or not, vaccination passports are coming. Before we go too far, let’s be clear: the federal government has no plan – and really no ability, at this point – to mandate, create, and verify a nationwide passport confirming anyone’s vaccination status. Though privacy issues are cited as the main reason, the more practical reason is that the United States (unlike other countries) does not have a national healthcare system that is responsible for registering people for and administering COVID-19 vaccinations. In other words, the federal government doesn’t know who has been vaccinated. 

A vaccine passport is really nothing more than proof of COVID-19 vaccination. Many businesses, organizations, and even countries are starting to require proof of vaccination as a form of pay to play. Honestly, that is nothing new.

In 1986, I journeyed to rural Thailand to work in a Baptist mission hospital for two months. I was required to get a yellow fever vaccination and carry proof of vaccination with me – a yellow fever vaccine passport, if you will – in order to travel. In 2021, for those ready to visit European Union countries, tourists from “safe” countries will be allowed in – as long as they can show proof of vaccination against COVID-19. Greece is open. France, Spain, Germany, Italy, and Croatia, among other countries, are opening up again soon or have already opened up. Proof of vaccination is the surefire ticket, though entry with a recent negative COVID-19 test or proof of recovery from COVID-19 in the past six months may be possible in some circumstances.

Educational institutions are looking closely at vaccination requirements as well. My alma mater, Rice University in Houston, Texas, recently announced that all members of the Rice community are expected to return in person for the fall semester and all students who come to campus are expected to be fully vaccinated before school starts. The list of colleges and universities following suit grows daily. This really shouldn’t surprise anyone. Colleges have required vaccination against infectious diseases like meningitis, measles, mumps, and rubella for years. Why not against COVID-19 in the middle of a pandemic? The Supreme Court affirmed compulsory vaccination laws way back in 1905 and specifically affirmed proof of vaccination laws for public schoolchildren in 1922, both cases dealing with smallpox. 

Texas Governor Greg Abbott (R) issued a politically motivated executive order on April 6, 2021, “prohibiting state agencies or political subdivisions in Texas from creating a `vaccine passport’ requirement, or otherwise conditioning receipt of services on an individual’s COVID-19 vaccination status.” The order also prohibits organizations that receive public funds from requiring proof of vaccination “in order to receive any service or enter any place”. Abbott’s executive order trying to prohibit vaccine passports is only effective as long as vaccines are administered under an emergency use authorization, and it excludes nursing homes, state supported living centers, assisted living facilities and long term care facilities. 

The question of whether colleges, businesses – anyone – can require COVID-19 vaccination when the vaccines are under emergency use authorization (EUA) status is quickly becoming irrelevant. First, Pfizer is applying for full FDA approval of the Pfizer-BioNTech COVID-19 vaccine. Moderna plans to do the same. Both vaccines are highly effective and safe. Second, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC), announced on May 29, 2021, that U.S. companies can mandate that employees in a workplace must be vaccinated against COVID-19. The Houston Methodist Hospital System, one of the most respected healthcare systems in the world, has mandated their employees get vaccinated or face termination. Ninety-nine percent of their 26,000 employees have been vaccinated, but 117 staff are suing. Based on the aforementioned legal precedent and the EEOC pronouncement, the suit should get thrown out.

Short of mandates, employers can choose to offer incentives to employees to get vaccinated. Dollar General, for example, offers employees an extra four hours of pay if they get vaccinated. Incentives extend to the general public as well. By now, most have heard of the Krispy Kreme reward, where those who can show proof of vaccination can get one free glazed donut a day. My waistline is glad there is no Krispy Kreme store near me. Vaccination incentives, from donuts to lottery tickets to permission to attend in-person, live events, or even raising health insurance premiums for those not vaccinated, are mentioned favorably in respected medical publications like the New England Journal of Medicine. People magazine even came out with an article on how to get promotions, prizes and freebies with a COVID-19 vaccine card. 

Ultimately, the goal is to encourage those who may be sitting on the fence to go ahead and get vaccinated. Some diehards may bristle at the thought of vaccine passports and being required to get vaccinated – “Don’t Tread on Me” and all that. They would do well to remember that rights have limitations and choices have consequences. Those opposing vaccination must ask themselves if it is really worth not being able to fully participate in an open economy, much less risk losing their job, just to forego a highly safe and effective jab. Between mandates and incentives, not to mention basic moral and civic duty, refusing COVID-19 vaccination is an increasingly senseless and expensive hill to die on. As for me, I’ve got my passports – the official one and the COVID-19 card – and am ready to travel again!

Rosie the Riveter and Dolly Parton

The time was the early 1940s. America was at war. The aircraft and munitions industries heavily recruited women to take up important jobs in support of the war effort. In 1942, artist J. Howard Miller created the iconic, yellow background “We Can Do It!” poster of Rosie the Riveter, dressed in blue and wearing a red bandana, flexing her arm and looking straight at you. There is a power of iconic images like Rosie the Riveter to motivate people and to effect change.

We are engaged in battle again today, this time against a deadly virus. The nation needs a modern-day Rosie to recruit for the COVID-19 vaccine war effort. Who better than Dolly Parton, who not only rolled up her sleeve to get vaccinated, she donated $1 million to Vanderbilt early in the pandemic, which helped lead to the Moderna vaccine. To be precise, Ms. Parton did not have to roll up her sleeve when she got vaccinated. Her sparkly “cold-shoulder” top allowed her to get her shot without a wardrobe adjustment. Now it’s a fashion trend. I’d like to nominate her for sainthood.

I’m not sure even a Saint Dolly could increase vaccination rates enough to reach herd immunity. Vaccine hesitancy is astonishingly high. Though political leanings play a role, it is certainly not as simple as Trump supporters versus all others. Jonah Goldberg, writing for The Dispatch, noted that when the COVID-19 pandemic began, very few conservatives and Republicans disagreed that the government had a role to play: “pandemics, like wars, are supposed to be tackled by the government.” Even the staunchest libertarian – focused on “autonomy and political freedom” – can understand that preventing the spread of communicable disease is a necessary and worthy role of government, even as certain means to control disease (government shutdowns, for example) are questioned.

But the libertarian forfeits their principled position when their personal right to act becomes a belligerent and ignorant – not to mention community-harming – stand. So went Custer. Some are even wearing the decision not to be vaccinated as a badge of honor.

When you combine a growing libertarian streak with the individualism and sense of invincibility common among Millennials (aka “Generation Me”), it is easy to see why vaccination rates trail off dramatically the younger you look. A cynical person might suggest that Millennials just want the excess number of Baby Boomers to die from COVID-19 so they don’t have to support them in retirement. Plus, they’ll get their inheritance sooner. After all, those old people were going to die anyway. (Yes, I have heard it said on more than one occasion that COVID-19 didn’t really kill older people; they were going to die anyway.)

Young adults aren’t invincible, despite podcaster Joe Rogan telling them they don’t need to get vaccinated. (He later walked back that comment, stating, "I'm not a doctor. I'm a f---ing moron.") It sells more papers (or internet and social media ads) to play up the rare vaccine side effects than to tell the stories of young people who suffered or died from severe COVID-19. But those stories are out there. Serious cases are on the rise in younger adults, creating a create a "reservoir of disease" that eventually "spills over into the rest of society." Without a doubt, President Biden should order US military personnel to get vaccinated. Our military must be fit at all times.

I have had many thoughtful discussions with people who have not yet gotten vaccinated. Outside of conspiracy theories, I have yet to hear an argument that is not based ultimately on either fear or self-centeredness. The most sensible argument made against the COVID-19 vaccines is that we don’t have enough long-term safety data. (The original argument was that they were developed too quickly, but that was a false argument from the start. Years of advance research laid the groundwork for COVID-19 vaccine development.) But with hundreds of millions of doses given – and only extremely rare serious side effects seen – the safety of the vaccines being given in the United States is unquestioned. Pregnant women can get vaccinated, and there is no evidence any of these vaccines affect fertility.

True anti-vaxxers are a lost cause. They are crazy. You can’t reason with a conspiracy theorist. But there are many honest folk who have heard so much misinformation that they either don’t know what to believe or just can’t get rid of their doubt. These are the people who need to step up and take responsibility for more than just themselves. Otherwise, we are left with pure selfishness. Rosie would not approve.

Though vaccine hesitancy is seen across the nation, rural and conservative areas are the worst. Once again, as with almost every health metric from smoking to obesity, from education level to income, rural America comes in last. One may have different political beliefs and still unite in caring for the poor, the vulnerable, the least of these. Love and justice demand it. The New York Times argues that vaccine hesitancy isn’t a knowledge problem; it is about gut beliefs or “moral intuitions”. Vaccine hesitancy among evangelical Christians is pathetically high. What amazes me is that the folks who claim the moral high ground and purport to be concerned for the eternal welfare of others apparently don’t care enough about others’ lives here on earth to take a simple shot.

So, for the freedom loving, anti- big government individualists out there, hear me: You can mistrust authority and love your neighbor. You can hate Dr. Fauci and still protect your grandmother. You say you love your country? Then protect her and end this pandemic. It boils down to “where your treasure is”. Is your core motivation the “moral preference for liberty and individual rights”, or is it “love your neighbor as yourself”? Maybe one choice honors both. Rosie the Riveter rolled up her sleeve. So did Saint Dolly. You should, too. 

Vaccine Website Up and Running

As of Monday, March 8, 2021, the new online COVID vaccine registration portal is up and running at www.etxcovidvaccine.com. A result of the efforts of a volunteer group known as the Deep East Texas Partnership working with the Angelina County & Cities Health District, the website contains a simple to use bright red link to sign up for the vaccine as well as links to CDC and vaccine information and a link for those interested in volunteering to help with the vaccination effort.

 

The website details who is eligible to be vaccinated – currently Phase 1a (front line healthcare workers and residents at long-term care facilities), and Phase 1b (people 65 yrs. and older and those 18 yrs. and older who have chronic illness; education and child care personnel; employees, teachers and staff in pre-primary, primary and secondary schools; Head Start and Early Head Start programs; and licensed childcare providers). In the first couple of days that the website was live, more than 2,500 people signed up to get vaccinated. For those who cannot register online, they can still call the health district’s Coronavirus Call Center at (936) 630-8500, Monday - Friday from 8AM - 4PM.

 

This website and registration process is the result of many volunteers and organizations in the community coming together to implement what arguably should have been set up earlier. This paper justifiably was concerned about the missteps in preplanning for and coordination and implementation of a hub vaccination effort for Deep East Texas. Recently, however, they were unduly critical of what has essentially been a community volunteer effort to make up for lost ground and get a vaccine registration website up and running. I am grateful for the volunteer partnership that quickly raised a quarter million dollars and organized an army of volunteers to increase our vaccination rates. Sincere thanks are due to the TLL Temple Foundation, Angelina College, the Civic Center staff, and the many volunteers who have gone above and beyond to work with the health district, demonstrating what a community can do when it comes together.

 

So how are we doing with the vaccination effort locally?

 

As of March 9, 2021, 18.4% of the total US population has received at least one shot (23.9% of those age 18 and older). Texas is several percentage points behind the national rate at around 15.2% of the total population. In Angelina County, 12,484 people 16 years and older have received at least one dose (14.4% of total county population, or 18.6% of the eligible adult population). Yes, we are a little behind. The convention center hub is vaccinating 1,200-1,500 people a week. They have capacity to increase that number. With local, regional, and state leadership pressing our case, the hope is that a greater number of vaccine doses will be allocated to our Deep East Texas hub soon. After all, Hardin and Orange counties apparently are allocated so many doses that they have opened their COVID-19 vaccine appointments to anyone.

I have been heartened to read that more and more Americans are willing to get vaccinated. A recent Pew Research survey shows that 69% of the public intends to get the COVID-19 vaccine, or already has, up from 60% in November. This is incredibly encouraging news. About three-quarters agree that a large majority of Americans getting a vaccine for COVID-19 (i.e., achieving herd immunity) would help the US economy. We must keep heading that direction! Just this week, the CDC issued new guidance for those who have been fully vaccinated, including relaxed restrictions on indoor gatherings. There is a light at the end of the COVID-19 tunnel!

 

Regrettably, as David French points out in The Dispatch, “vaccine hesitancy breaks down sharply along partisan and religious lines, and that hesitancy is so profound in white Evangelical communities that it could disrupt the quest for herd immunity.” He notes that Evangelical vaccine hesitancy is both an information problem and a spiritual problem, with White evangelicals being the least likely to say they should consider the health effects on their community when making a decision to be vaccinated. As I have urged many times before, loving our neighbor is the heart of the gospel. For true believers, that love requires – no, demands – action. Two obvious and public actions to love others are mask wearing and getting vaccinated. I have been encouraged by those I know in the faith community who, with few exceptions, are planning to get (or have already gotten) vaccinated. In my estimation, Lufkin has long demonstrated that it is a living, loving community, far more willing to help others than most communities. Let’s hope our final vaccination numbers prove me right!

 

The www.etxcovidvaccine.com website will be an ongoing source of regularly updated information about available vaccines, vaccination locations, and the overall eligibility and registration process. Use the website; it is the easiest, most efficient way to get registered. But if you or your loved one do not have internet access, call (936) 630-8500. Either way, get vaccinated as soon as you are able. Together, we will we protect our community.

Bruised Arms and Bruised Egos – They Will Heal

I have never seen people so grateful to feel flu-like before! Those who have been able to get their COVID-19 vaccinations are happy people. They are proud of their bruised arms and temporary achiness. They walk around with their head a little higher, with a little more spring in their step. It is as if a huge weight has been lifted off their shoulders, even though they still need to be safe.

A sore arm and temporary flu-like symptoms are a small price to pay for extraordinarily effective and safe vaccines. It turns out the Pfizer and Moderna vaccines are virtually 100% effective at preventing hospitalization and death from COVID-19. Out of more than 30,000 trial participants who received either vaccine, only one person became ill enough from COVID-19 to be hospitalized. The Johnson & Johnson vaccine looks to be equally effective at preventing severe illness and hospitalization. For those who have been reluctant to get vaccinated, this excellent news should be quite reassuring.

We are still in the midst of a severe outbreak in Angelina County. As February began, Texas was seeing a 20% decrease in coronavirus cases. However, Angelina County remains in the midst of an “extraordinarily severe outbreak” and at an “extremely high risk” level. Governor Abbott even surged a Department of Defense team to Lufkin to help with our high rate of hospitalizations. Angelina County has had more than 7,350 cases of coronavirus infection since the pandemic began with225 deaths, more than twice the death rate as Texas. Eighty-one of those deaths have been this year.

Unfortunately, most people have yet to get their first shot. They wonder when that day will come for them. The simple fact is, in order to vaccinate more people, we need more vaccine. Much has been made of the delay in getting Lufkin designated as a hub for coronavirus vaccinations, a designation that allows the state to send vaccine in greater numbers than we have been receiving thus far. Our collective frustration arises from the fact that we consider ourselves a healthcare hub for deep East Texas. We have high standards. We know what we can accomplish when we put our mind to it and work together.

Early vaccination efforts were scattershot based on who got vaccine. Each individual entity that received doses – hospitals, clinics like Urgent Doc, the Angelina County & Cities Health District, pharmacies – barely had the manpower to administer the vaccine they were allocated, much less the large volume needed going forward.

As this paper pointed out in last weekend’s frank editorial, we are frustrated that we weren’t one of the first places to be designated a vaccine hub. The hub designation “delay” clarified that communication and cooperation across organizations is an absolute must going forward. Egos have been bruised, not just vaccinated arms. No single person or organization bears all the blame. Lessons have been learned and it is time to move on.

While we were pointing fingers over the hub designation, we overlooked the fact that we are actually vaccinating people at a faster rate than the state and national averages. As of February 4, the day before Lufkin was designated as a vaccine hub, 8.2% of the US population had received at least one shot. Texas was at 7.2%, embarrassingly behind our neighbors New Mexico, Louisiana, Arkansas, and Oklahoma. Yet, 6,384 people in Angelina County had received at least one dose – 9.46% of the eligible population. Even before hub designation, more than 11,000 doses had been shipped to Angelina County since the start of vaccinations. That’s a good start, and a credit to both hospitals, various pharmacies, Urgent Doc, and the health district. But the demand for vaccine is astronomical. Brookshire Brothers – God bless them! – stopped taking names on their vaccination waiting list when an astounding 130,000-plus people had signed up.

Can we do better? Of course. We must. We need to be vaccinating several thousand a week, every week. A fabulous local volunteer effort, organized by Jane Ainsworth and Patricia Jones, will help Sharon Shaw and the Angelina County & Cities Health District get there. Angelina College is organizing staff and student volunteers and offering student nurses to assist with vaccinations. AC’s Krista Brown and Sarah Alvis will help with website and social media marketing efforts once registration and reporting software has been obtained. The TLL Temple Foundation has stepped up to help with that purchase. Rep. Trent Ashby is making sure the state gets more vaccine allocated to us, now that we have hub designation. The more we know, the more we realize this absolutely was going to require everyone’s support. It takes a village to vaccinate a village!

Still, the public needs ongoing information and reassurance. We expect transparent, timely, and reliable pandemic information. The health district, city and county need a designated pandemic spokesperson whose job it is to share facts and educate the public; otherwise, we will be consumed by rumor and fear. What exactly is “the plan” that got us the hub designation? How many are expected to be vaccinated over what period of time? Who goes when? How do people get on “the list” and have confidence that they won’t be forgotten when their appropriate time comes? What are we doing to assure equitable distribution to Black and Hispanic communities and to those who don’t have access to social media and online registration? Tell us, then tell us again; don’t make us beg for information.

I am grateful a more comprehensive vaccination machine is getting ramped up and ready to go, in the end due to the very cooperation, communication, volunteer spirit and get-it-done attitude that make Lufkin and Angelina County a special place to live. We shine as a city and county when we all work together toward common goals for all our citizens. That’s a #LufkinStrong shot in the arm we all need!

2020, We Are Giving You the Boot

 Are you as relieved as I that 2020 is over? Like the uninvited guest that overstayed a visit, 2020 deserves to be booted out and have the door slammed shut behind her. Good riddance!

2020 was a year of heightened fear and pervasive anxiety. Life in the United States in the 21st century, for most Americans, has been underscored with a sense of comfort and invincibility. We know those in poverty live with the daily anxiety of not knowing where the next meal is coming from. Then George Floyd’s death and the Black Lives Matter movement increased our awareness that many Americans of color – especially young, Black men – live in fear. But 2020 brought a level of fear and anxiety (not to mention death) to a majority of the country to a degree perhaps not seen since WWII. Fear got personal for most of us, in other words. Let’s hope that as the broad population starts to get vaccinated in 2021 and the economy picks up, that fear and anxiety (and the depression that may follow) can start to dissipate.

Last month in this column, I wished for a COVID-19 vaccination for Christmas, not believing that I would receive one that quickly. As it turns out, I got my first dose of the Pfizer-BioNTech vaccine on December 18, one week after its approval by the FDA. Just last night, I received my second and final vaccine dose. Within a week or two, I should achieve maximal immunity. I cannot tell you what a relief it was to get the first dose! Everyone else I talk to who has been vaccinated feels the same way. A weight was lifted off my shoulders. I started to be less afraid, less anxious. It may take time for all of us to recover from what I call PCSD – post coronavirus stress disorder – but we will get there.

Being vaccinated does not mean I can let my guard down yet. Even with vaccines with the very high success rate of Pfizer-BioNTech and Moderna (around 95%), 5% or more of people immunized may still get the virus. Mitigation measures like wearing masks and social distancing must continue for most of 2021 until we gradually can return to a pre-COVID routine, assuming enough people get vaccinated to achieve herd immunity in the population.

Now that healthcare workers are being vaccinated, who is next in line? The federal government has left it up to each state to determine criteria for vaccine distribution. In Texas, the first round (Phase 1A) included front-line healthcare workers and residents of long-term care facilities. Phase 1B is now in process, and that includes people 65 years of age and older as well as people 16 years of age and older with at least one chronic medical condition that puts them at increased risk for severe illness (such as cancer, heart conditions, COPD, obesity, type 2 diabetes mellitus, transplant patients, chronic kidney disease, pregnancy, and sickle cell disease). More information can be found at dshs.texas.gov, including a Texas COVID-19 Vaccine Provider Locations Map where one can find out where to go get vaccinated.

The overall vaccine rollout is not without glitches and controversy. Arguments have been made that the criteria for vaccine distribution and prioritization have not been established to maximize lives saved. And the desire to have 20 million people vaccinated by the end of the year was a gross overestimate (we vaccinated around 2.6 million). That being said, the vaccines are being manufactured, distributed and administered at a pace previously thought impossible; I hope and pray that everyone who is eligible to receive one will take it when their turn comes. 

Let me tell you what else needs to get booted out with 2020: our growing and disturbing willingness to tolerate and believe misinformation, disinformation, and conspiracy theories. There is a serious lack of deep reading and critical thinking today. Sound bites become “truth”, even when the facts prove otherwise. Those very facts are disputed – often viciously – if they come from any source other than one’s narrow list of preferred (and often biased) channels, websites, or Twitter feeds. We are losing the ability to have an honest discussion. Disagreement and dialogue can be constructive; hate never is.

As we give 2020 the boot, we mourn what we lost in 2020. Certainly, many lost jobs and income, and far too many restaurants and businesses closed. Most of all, we lost our people. I wrote in March 2020 that in an ironic twist of fate, it very well may be that the remnants of the Greatest Generation are once again on the front lines and would bear the brunt of the coronavirus disease. To date, 6 out of 10 coronavirus deaths are age 75 or older, and more than 80% age 65 or older. I lament the disdain for the elderly evidenced by the cavalier attitude of those who feel their personal rights and lower risk of severe disease mean they don’t have to be careful. Rugged individualism and love of neighbor do not have to be mutually exclusive. 

Ever, the optimist, I am glad to close the door on 2020 and see what 2021 brings. I look forward to seeing family members I have not seen in quite some time, to travel, and to the return of live performing arts (especially symphony, opera, and musical theater productions). New Year’s resolutions certainly look different this year. Yes, losing the COVID 15 pounds is probably on most people’s list. But I must resolve to maintain vigilance regarding COVID-19 until such time as herd immunity is achieved and the CDC recommends relaxing social distancing and masking. Likewise, I will continue to encourage those around me to get one of the vaccines when their time comes.

Finally, I hope and pray for 2021 that we all take a collective deep breath as we start the New Year. 1 John 4:18 says that perfect love casts out fear. I’ve said it many times: love your neighbor. More than anything, that’s how we can boot 2020 – and the fear and anxiety that came with it – out the door.

All I Want for Christmas

“All I want for Christmas is a new vaccine…” It has a nice, catchy ring to it, don’t you agree? Though several COVID-19 vaccine successes have been announced, thanks to President Trump’s Operation Warp Speed, it is unlikely any of us will get a shot in the arm until after the New Year. For most, the wait will be months longer.

Sometimes the best presents are the ones we have to wait for. As a child, there was a string of years where my main Christmas gift was late, and I would have an IOU under the tree. Probably the most memorable such present was when I was fourteen years old. I was into photography and wanted an SLR camera, but they were expensive and hard to come by – at least in Midland, Texas. There was no internet shopping in 1975! My father had a friend who was going to Japan (where electronics were cheaper) and he was able to get one shipped to us, but it was not going to arrive by Christmas Day. There’s a reason we use the word ‘ship’ when we talk about package delivery, and the ship with my camera on board took six weeks to cross the Pacific. When that camera finally arrived, I definitely could say it was worth the wait!

Now we all wait on a COVID-19 vaccine.

According to the office of Texas Governor Greg Abbott, Texas is ready. The Department of State Health Services (DSHS) developed a Vaccine Distribution Plan and is working with health care providers to enroll in the DSHS Immunization Program to be eligible to administer these vaccines once available. Over 2,500 providers have already enrolled in the program. The Texas Division of Emergency Management (TDEM) is prepared to assist the swift distribution of COVID-19 vaccines and treatments.

I have followed the COVID-19 vaccine development and approval process for months now. I can tell you I will be 100% confident in any vaccines authorized or approved by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA). FDA Commissioner Stephen Hahn has written, “We are committed to expediting the development of COVID-19 vaccines, but not at the expense of sound science and decision making. We will not jeopardize the public’s trust in our science-based, independent review of these or any vaccines. There’s too much at stake.”

As a healthcare worker, theoretically I’m slated to be in an early cohort to get vaccinated. I haven’t heard any local details yet. The job of deciding “who goes first” falls to the DSHS COVID-19 Expert Vaccine Allocation Panel (EVAP). A Guiding Principles document recommended COVID-19 vaccine allocation be based on the following principles: protecting health care workers; protecting frontline workers; protecting vulnerable populations; and mitigating health inequities. The process is to be data-driven, geographically diverse, and transparent. The DSHS document goes on to describe in greater detail who the First and Second Tier health care workers are in Phase 1A. 

It is difficult to argue against prioritizing healthcare workers, first responders, and even residents of long-term care facilities, who have been devastated by COVID-19. Some have expressed concern about nursing home patients being in the first group because they are elderly and may not tolerate the vaccine as well. However, vaccine trial participants have come from all age groups. And though each vaccine is different, the general consensus is that vaccinating older adults against COVID-19 is safe and effective. I was heartened to read recently that the three living former presidents – Bill Clinton (age 74), George W. Bush (age 74), and Barack Obama (age 59) – have said they would be happy to get vaccinated on camera to show that it is safe and to encourage others to get it. As I called for months ago, I hope President Trump (also age 74) is first in line. We need the unified endorsement of politicians across the political divide to encourage a significant majority of people to get vaccinated.

One particular group that should be vaccinated sooner rather than later is our prison population. Texas inmates and staff tested positive for coronavirus at a 490% higher rate than the state’s general population. Eighty percent of people who died in jails from COVID-19 were not convicted of any crime. Tragically, almost 6% of the prison population at Angelina County’s Duncan Unit, a geriatric prison, has died of COVID-19. That’s one out of every 18 inmates dying in the span of five months. If we are truly concerned about vaccine distribution being equitable and just, our prison populations must not be forgotten or ignored.

As a Texas local public health district, the Angelina County & Cities Health District (ACCHD) under the leadership of Sharon Shaw actively participates in all state and federal COVID-19 vaccine calls. They have a task force represented by hospitals, pharmacies, physician clinics, and long-term care facilities to coordinate local logistics and planning efforts for vaccine delivery. The Coronavirus Call Center at (936) 633-6500 continues to take calls regarding COVID-19 testing, quarantine guidance, and, when available, vaccine information.

Despite the catchy Christmas tune, I long ago stopped wishing for two front teeth. But my Christmas wish for a coronavirus vaccine is about to be granted. I just have to wait a little bit longer. Who knows? It may be the best Christmas present ever!

Changing our Focus after the Election

 The 2020 election is over. We’ve made our choice for the top of the ticket and any number of other down ballot races. It may be we still don’t know the outcome of the presidential election when this column is printed. Regardless – hear me now! – life must goes on. 

By life, I mean in areas like work, family, worship, and commerce, of course, but also volunteerism and philanthropy. All of these are people-driven, relationship-driven activities, or in the case of our service to others, neighbor-driven. We are learning that we can be COVID-careful and still be caring. We cannot let fear paralyze us into ignoring the needs of those around us. 

Unfortunately, the recent end-of-the-world rhetoric from both sides of the aisle leading up to this election has been way over-the-top scary. One of the last Gallup polls prior to the election showed that nearly two-thirds of voters are afraid of what will happen if their candidate loses. At the same time, both parties are underwater when it comes to favorability. If the Gallup poll is correct, most of us have been not merely concerned, but downright it’s-going-to-be-the-end-of-the-world-if-we-lose afraid; yet, we don’t trust either party to be the solution. 

It is time to take our gaze off the White House and look around our neighborhoods and at ourselves. We must be the solution we want to see in Angelina County. How about supporting the wonderful businesses and non-profits that serve and minister in our community? Don’t just give money (but do that, please). Volunteer! 

There is no question that our ability to volunteer in person has been hampered during the pandemic. Even so, more than 200 First Baptist Church members, organized by Minister of Missions Walker McWilliams, worked throughout the community last Sunday – socially distanced and masked – in their fourth annual Love Lufkin day.

Folks, hunger hasn’t abated. In fact, during the pandemic food insecurity has gotten much worse according to those on the hunger front lines like Captains Cavon and Jenifer Phillips with the Salvation Army. Prior to COVID-19, they fed on average 100 people a day. Since the pandemic began, they are feeding 350-400 people a day, and at one point it was up to 600 a day. In addition, they have seen an exponential increase in rental assistance requests. These two saints do phenomenal work and would love to have your volunteer help and financial support. You can donate online at https://www.salvationarmytexas.org/lufkin/ or sign up to ring a bell during their Red Kettle Campaign at www.registertoring.com. 

Another local saint that can use all the help she can get is Yulonda Richard at the Christian Information and Service Center (CISC). Prior to the pandemic, CISC was seeing an average of 17,000 people per month. Since March, her mostly elderly volunteer base has had to stay home for their own safety. CISC is only able to be open three days a week now. They are still helping around 7,400 people a month and making deliveries as far away as Zavalla to those who have no other way to get food. And they continue their back-pack buddy program which provides weekend rations for school children all over the district. Yulonda told me, “It takes a village to raise a child but it truly takes the love and kindness of Angelina County to help our neighbors in their hour of need.” Thank her by mailing a check to CISC at 501 S. Angelina St, Lufkin, Texas, 75904.

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, let’s not forget the wonderful legacy of the late Rev. Bettie Kennedy and the Community Food Drive, so ably run each year by Bruce Love. In years past, they have distributed 2,000 Thanksgiving meal boxes to families in need. Even with COVID-19 affecting volunteer participation opportunities and logistics, Bruce still plans to distribute 1,000 Thanksgiving meal boxes this year. Send Bruce a Thanksgiving-sized check to Community Food Drive, 1508 S. First St, Lufkin, Texas, 75901.

I still remember as a child reading Corrie ten Boom’s biography, The Hiding Place. Her family’s story of sacrificing their safety (and for some, their lives) to hide Jews during the Nazi invasion of the Netherlands was profoundly inspiring. At great risk and despite constant fear, they practiced love. 

Still afraid of what the election results may bring? Let’s stop wringing our own hands and start holding the hands of those around us. The peace that comes with helping others can heal any troubled soul. That is a choice we can all vote for!

2020 and Coronavirus Fatigue

I’m tired. I’m tired of 2020 and COVID-19. 2020 has certainly been full of meme-worthy events, but the pandemic has loomed over them all. I vacillate between exasperation and calling people out for not wearing masks, on the one hand, and resignation on the other. Anger? Depression? Mostly, I’m just tired. 

I worry about friends who have had or will catch COVID-19. I grieve for those who have lost friends or relatives to the disease. I wonder if – no, when – I (or a family member) will catch it, and how severe the illness will be. I think we all suffer from a sense of impending doom.

I’m tired of trying to figure out why some people think they have a right to endanger others by not wearing a mask or social distancing. Would they also get drunk and drive? This selfish hubris is bald hypocrisy when practiced by those who conflate Christianity and partisan politics, whose insistence on personal rights and worship of Trump evidently are more important than loving their neighbor. (See there? I am getting angry again.)

And now that Trump has COVID-19, the politicization of mask wearing by some on the right has been countered with a celebratory “I-told-you-so” attitude by some on the left. As one observer said, referring to all the warnings about how cavalier the Trump White House has been about masks and social distancing, “There is no joy in being right.” My private prediction that Trump – if he got out of the hospital fairly quickly – would turn around and say, ‘See? This coronavirus isn’t that bad!’ came true. I do hope and pray he continues to a full recovery. But I am so very tired of the scientific community having to clean up after Trump’s ignorant and dangerous medical beliefs and statements.

Elisabeth Kübler-Ross famously described five stages of grief that terminally ill patients experience when faced with their impending death. These stages – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance – have since been used to describe our emotional processing of any loss or tragedy. Or, in the case of 2020, an entire year. Kübler-Ross’s stages do not have to be experienced in the commonly stated order. And those stages, it seems to me, can be seen in our national narrative and psyche as well, not just our individual lives. The United States is reeling from successive, seemingly unrelenting blows (hurricanes, wildfires, protests, murder hornets, the pandemic, etc.), staggering between anger and depression – as I have been personally – or grasping at national denial and bargaining, depending on the day. 

My wife tells me how homesick she is for the life pre-pandemic. I find myself overeating as an escape from the relentless bad news cycle. I can tell I’m not sleeping as well, either. Are you tired as well? How are you handling 2020? We all need to be mindful of how we handle stress and depression. Relying on alcohol, marijuana, or other drugs is not appropriate coping, yet drug and alcohol use are on the rise. Mental health and alcohol and drug abuse organizations – Burke and the Alcohol and Drug Abuse Council of Deep East Texas (ADAC), for example – are here to help. Don’t let yourself spiral out of control. If you are having a mental health emergency, call Burke’s 24-hour crisis line at 1 (800) 392-8343. For ADAC services, call 1 (800) 445-8562 or (936) 634-5753 to schedule an appointment.

Regardless of the sequence or magnitude of the stages of grief, the goal for resolution and healing – individually as well as nationally – must be some movement toward acceptance. In the case of the pandemic, that acceptance ideally should include an acknowledgement of the reality and severity of the illness and the need for at least a basic individual and communal response (hand washing, masks, social distancing), even if we don’t always agree on broader, more complex issues, like how and when the economy or the schools should open up. We must accept that the scientific community is not out to derail the presidency; rather, to save lives.

2020 will come to an end. On December 31 at midnight, we will sing Auld Lang Syne and gratefully close the book on the year. Not so fast with the pandemic. A safe and effective vaccine may still be a ways off. Though we are all tired (and occasionally angry or depressed), we cannot let down our guard as individuals or as a society. Let’s move beyond denial, anger, bargaining and depression and toward acceptance, including acceptance of and care for each other. We have so many strengths as community, and we need each other now more than ever. Together, we can do this. The ancient prophet Isaiah could have written for today: we must renew our strength, to run and not grow weary, to walk and not be faint. And while we are at it, let’s not forget to love our neighbor as ourselves.

Will a Coronavirus Vaccine Be the Answer?

The novel coronavirus has changed our lives. Just about everything we do is affected by mask-wearing and social distancing. The economy has been reeling, although you wouldn’t know it by looking at the stock market. There have been more than 6 million cases in the US and closing in on 200,000 deaths so far. Thankfully, scientific knowledge around coronavirus is expanding at an unprecedented pace. Everyone is looking for a silver bullet against coronavirus. Many hope a vaccine will be that bullet.

Development of a coronavirus vaccine is an urgent priority of the federal government. Since its inception in May, Operation Warp Speed – the collaborative effort between the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) and pharmaceutical companies to develop and produce hundreds of millions of doses of coronavirus vaccines – has helped identify well over one hundred vaccine candidates and implement dozens of trials. Nine vaccines are in large scale phase 3 trials. Projections of when a vaccine will be available have ranged from October (per President Trump in the early days of the vaccine development) to the end of 2020 or, more likely, early 2021, according to recent comments by Dr. Anthony Fauci, Director of the National Institutes of Health’s National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Disease. Dr. Fauci seriously doubts we will have to rely on an international vaccine (think Russia or China), having openly criticized the Russian President Vladimir Putin-promoted effort as “bogus”.

Obviously, the sooner we have a vaccine, the better. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) is calling on states to have vaccine distribution sites fully operational by November 1, a gargantuan task. That does not mean a vaccine will be delivered on November 1. We need to temper our expectations of what will happen – and how quickly – once a vaccine becomes available.

The goal of any vaccination campaign is “herd” (community) immunity, where a sufficient proportion of a population is immune to make disease spread from person to person unlikely. In general, 60% or more of a community or population needs to have either had a particular infectious disease or be vaccinated against it in order to provide sufficient community immunity. Sounds easy enough.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), only 45.3% of adults got a flu vaccination for the 2018-2019 season, ranging from a low of 33.9% in Nevada to only 56.3% in Rhode Island. Twenty percent of Americans already say they will refuse to get a COVID-19 vaccine, and with another 31 percent unsure, reaching herd immunity could be that much more difficult. On a cautiously optimistic note, there is some speculation that the herd immunity level with the COVID-19 coronavirus might be as low as 43%. That shouldn’t make us think twice about getting vaccinated, however, especially when that vaccine will be effectively free and, if all goes as promised, readily available. The more the merrier, when it comes to people getting vaccinated.

I do worry how long it will take to get 300 million doses of a vaccine delivered and administered in our communities. In the 2009 H1N1 pandemic (caused by a more seasonal flu virus than the novel coronavirus), vaccine doses were first distributed to state and local health departments and then further out to mass clinics, employers, schools, hospitals, pharmacies, and doctor’s offices. Even so, only about a quarter of all Americans got vaccinated before the pandemic played out. The coronavirus vaccination effort will have to be larger and faster, and this pandemic is not expected to fizzle like a flu season does. (We already know that optimistic predictions of a summer lull did not happen.) All that is to say, it may be awhile before we reach herd immunity.

There are other logistical uncertainties as well. Will the vaccine require cold storage? (Probably.) Will a single dose be effective? (Probably not.) How will distribution and dosing be prioritized? (Health care workers? Elderly? Racial disparities?) With so many vaccines in development, “the first” vaccine may not be “the best” vaccine for the long run. I would still take it… and whatever follows as well, if that is what is recommended by the medical experts.

Politics continues to tussle with Science, most recently in the “breakthrough” announced from the White House regarding convalescent plasma as a COVID-19 treatment. FDA Commissioner Stephen Hahn sheepishly had to backtrack misleading comments made about convalescent plasma therapy while defending against Trump’s accusations that the “deep state” at the FDA was making it hard for drug companies to test coronavirus treatments. Thankfully, Politics is funding Science to an incredible extent during this pandemic. I suppose in any dance one partner may step on the other’s toes on occasion. As long as the dance continues, we have hope.

While we wait on a coronavirus vaccine, we should stay current with other vaccinations and definitely get the flu shot this fall. There is some speculation that vaccinations might help “train” or boost our overall immune system. Who knows? And we need to continue to slow the spread of coronavirus by wearing masks (mouth AND nose, please), washing our hands, and social distancing. Remember, this is a community effort.

One final thought. When a coronavirus vaccine does become available – one that is determined to be safe and effective – I would like to see President Trump, Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, and other major political and scientific leaders hold a news conference and all get vaccinated together on live television. Lead by bipartisan example! What better way to reassure the public and encourage all of us to follow suit. A vaccine may or may not be a silver bullet, but I am hopeful one (or more) will be a great tool in the fight.