On 20 August 2021 I got vaccinated.
I asked the doctor at the vaccination centre about adverse reactions. The doctor hastily explained the potential side effects to me. I was far from being satisfied but then again I am quite the realist. In 2006 I was run over by a car while crossing the street on a zebra crossing and with the pedestrian green light on – as a result, I think I have an intuitive grasp of the unmerciful nature of statistics. In any case, it’s not rocket science: better to bet on a vaccine doing its work than risking death or some lifelong organ damage by catching a nasty bug. I gave my consent and the nurse proceeded to give me three jabs on both arms that granted me immunisation against diphtheria, whooping cough, measles, mumps, rubella, tetanus, and chickenpox.
Three days earlier, a 20+ year high-school friendship crumbled and disintegrated because the friend in question had embraced nasty no-vax beliefs.
One month earlier, I had my second Comirnaty (Pfizer BioNTech) Covid-19 vaccine shot.
Two months earlier, a relative told her oncologists that she did not want to be vaccinated against Covid-19 because she “wasn’t ready to die.”
And then, I suffered a complete breakdown.
But let’s start from the beginning, shall we?
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