Four years ago I survived a catastrophic reaction to the Influenza vaccine.

I am currently grappling with the reality that I cannot receive the Covid vaccine. It feels similar to when I was a young girl — watching from the dock as my older brothers sped off on our boat “TIN CAN” to water ski on the wide open Narragansett Bay. Left behind as they disappeared from view and little else to do but wait for their happy return, I yearned to be included in their adventures.

The world around me celebrates the vaccine, rejoices at it’s efficacy, champs at the bit to get back in the race. Conversation is centered on when, where, how, who first?

In my heart, I am six years old again, watching, waiting and wondering if I will be side-lined from sharing in the big picture going forward. This is an unusual isolation.