Yes, I'm disabled and still waiting for my COVID-19 vaccine.
In 1997, I was fighting to survive. A severe cold and asthma complications left me paralyzed with a collapsed lung. I spent eight months in the hospital and relied on a ventilator to breathe.
It was a frightening time for me and my family and a day doesn’t go by without me thinking of that ordeal.
More than 20 years later, I have adjusted to life as a person with a disability and the fear of being so close to death has subsided. But with the rise of COVID-19 and the current uncertainty of getting access to a vaccine, the possibility of me being hospitalized is a very real possibility.
In 1997, I was fighting to survive. A severe cold and asthma complications left me paralyzed with a collapsed lung. I spent eight months in the hospital and relied on a ventilator to breathe.
It was a frightening time for me and my family and a day doesn’t go by without me thinking of that ordeal.
More than 20 years later, I have adjusted to life as a person with a disability and the fear of being so close to death has subsided. But with the rise of COVID-19 and the current uncertainty of getting access to a vaccine, the possibility of me being hospitalized is a very real possibility.
Even worse, it could all be avoided.
Coronavirus vaccines are making their way into the arms of seniors and essential workers across the country. While that is a welcome sign, those with disabilities and high-risk medical conditions appear to be forgotten by officials and are still not prioritized in many states, including Arizona.
If you happen to have a medical condition or disability in Arizona but still are under the eligible age of 55, you are still waiting for your opportunity to get vaccinated. This is the current predicament I find myself in.
As I wait, I limit my trips out in public. Any exposure to COVID-19 could prove deadly. With my asthma, diminished lung capacity and compromised immune system, I could find myself back in the hospital fighting for my life. It’s an experience I never hope to never have again.
But thanks to officials at the Arizona Department of Health Services, people like me are left to fend for themselves as we wait for our opportunity.
In a recent article in the Washington Post, a startling statistic caught my eye. Americans with intellectual and developmental disabilities are two to three times as likely to die of COVID-19, according to the article. Many across the country like me are still waiting to get the shot. With a stat like that, you would think that those with disabilities and medical conditions of any age would have been moved to the front of the line.
The decisions regarding vaccine eligibility are supported by the Arizona Vaccine and Antiviral Prioritization Advisory Committee (VAPAC). This group, comprised of state, local, and tribal experts, and health care partners, provides recommendations for the state’s eligibility requirements. In a recent post on the ADHS website, VAPAC recommended expanding eligibility to those aged 55 and higher. Its reasoning was described as “to protect those who are most at risk for severe outcomes due to COVID-19, such as hospitalization and death.”
But those with disabilities and high-risk conditions under the age requirements are still not eligible. And that is simply and equivocally wrong.
We deserve better. We should not be seen as an afterthought in mainstream society. Yes, our lives require additional support and care from others. But that doesn’t make our lives any less of a priority or importance than our normally-abled counterparts. We deserve to live our lives the way we want to, without fear or confinement, held up in our homes, away from public life.
How can ADHS say their decisions are intended to protect those at the most-risk from COVID-19 when they are deprioritizing one of the most at-risk populations? How can a relatively-healthy 65-year-old man be considered higher risk than a 37-year-old quadriplegic with asthma and 1 and a half lungs? Or even a 20-year-old person with Down Syndrome?
There are numerous articles online asking this question with no answers from any officials. Here are just a few:
The silence from them is deafening and that ignorance could result in deaths that could be prevented with early access to the vaccine.
For now, I continue to scroll through my social media feeds and see photos of people getting their shots. Many of them are of various ages, occupations and ethnicities. Most appear relatively healthy and a few have high-risk conditions. It gives me a severe case of a “fear of missing out” as I see many who are less at-risk of COVID-19 than I get access to the coronavirus vaccine. Unfortunately, my current case of FOMO is accompanied by a very real fear and a risk of hospitalization and death.
WATCH: ADHS speaks about COVID-19 vaccinations for high-risk conditions
This is the word I will remember most from Biden’s victory speech
On Nov. 7, 2020, the world learned the news about Joe Biden becoming president-elect. Many people took to the streets across the country to celebrate after a long week of counting ballots and analyzing voter turnout.
As day turned to night Saturday, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris addressed the nation and spoke about what the next four years in office would look like.
For those who watched, there were plenty of memorable moments. From Biden proclaiming his priority to unify the country, to Harris talking about her historic moment becoming the first woman to be elected Vice President.
On Nov. 7, 2020, the world learned the news about Joe Biden becoming president-elect. Many people took to the streets across the country to celebrate after a long week of counting ballots and analyzing voter turnout.
As day turned to night Saturday, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris addressed the nation and spoke about what the next four years in office would look like.
For those who watched, there were plenty of memorable moments. From Biden proclaiming his priority to unify the country, to Harris talking about her historic moment becoming the first woman to be elected Vice President.
But for me, one word in Biden’s speech will always resonate with me.
“Disability.”
During his victory speech in Wilmington, Delaware, Biden mentioned the disabled community, and I was left speechless. And I wasn’t alone. Just do a quick Twitter search for the hashtag #CripTheVote.
““We must make the promise of the country real for everybody — no matter their race, their ethnicity, their faith, their identity or their DISABILITY,” the president-elect said Saturday night. ”
That was the first time I ever heard the President of the United States mention those with disabilities in a victory speech. At that moment, it didn’t feel like I was part of a segregated population. At that moment, I felt like an equal citizen.
It was only a small word for most people watching that night. But for me and others in the disabled community, it was so much more. It was a defining moment. After that mention, I finally felt heard, and it felt good.
A president, albeit a president-elect, openly acknowledged the disability. And he did it in his victory speech.
His acknowledgment for me was seen as a rallying cry for those in the disabled community. That our issues and needs may finally be heard and true change could be on the horizon. That opportunities for those with disabilities will increase and give us a chance to lead more meaningful, successful and enjoyable lives, just like our able-bodied counterparts.
People with disabilities make up “the nation’s largest minority,” with nearly 50 million Americans, according to the Department of Labor. So I believe our voice will only grow louder.
It may only be one word now, but hopefully, it will turn my cautious optimism into meaningful change for those living with a disability.