RebKell's Junkie Boards

[GlennMacGrady]

[jammerbirdi]

[jammerbirdi]

And then there's this.

Pfizer Will Ship Fewer Vaccine Vials to Account for ‘Extra’ Doses

After the surprise discovery of an extra dose in every vial, Pfizer executives successfully lobbied the F.D.A. to change the vaccine’s formal authorization language. The company charges by the dose.

By Noah Weiland, Katie Thomas and Sharon LaFraniere
Jan. 22, 2021
Updated 7:44 p.m. ET

In December, pharmacists made the happy discovery that they could squeeze an extra vaccine dose out of Pfizer vials that were supposed to contain only five.

Now, it appears, the bill is due. Pfizer plans to count the surprise sixth dose toward its previous commitment of 200 million doses of Covid vaccine by the end of July and therefore will be providing fewer vials than once expected for the United States.

And yet, pharmacists at some vaccination sites say they are still struggling to reliably extract the extra doses, which require the use of a specialty syringe.

“Now there’s more pressure to make sure that you get that sixth dose out,” said Michael Ganio, the senior director for pharmacy practice and quality at the American Society of Health-System Pharmacists.

For weeks, Pfizer executives pushed officials at the Food and Drug Administration to change the wording of the vaccine’s so-called emergency use authorization so that it formally acknowledged that the vials contained six doses, not five.

The distinction was critical: Pfizer’s contract with the federal government requires that it be paid by the dose. And there were serious public health implications. If the label’s formal language told people administering the vaccine that the vial contained a sixth dose, that could accelerate the pace of vaccinations at a crucial time.

When Pfizer first began shipping the vaccines in mid-December, it said that each vial contained enough liquid for five doses. But pharmacists in hospitals across the country soon noticed that the vials held enough for a sixth — and sometimes a seventh — dose. The discovery prompted a flurry of excitement and confusion, with some pharmacists throwing out the extra vaccine because they did not have permission to use it.

But they were soon advised by the F.D.A. that they could use those extra doses, which could be extracted with a so-called low dead volume syringe that is designed to cut down on wasted medication and vaccines.

Suddenly, it seemed as if the 100 million doses of vaccine that Pfizer has promised to the United States by the end of March would stretch to as much as 120 million — a welcome development given the scarcity of Covid-19 vaccines and the coronavirus pandemic’s mounting death toll.

But Pfizer insisted that those doses be counted toward its existing contract. It can now sell vials the United States had been expecting to other countries, or charge the United States for them in future deals. That could threaten the wave of good publicity that the company has enjoyed since developing a highly effective vaccine at record speed.

“Pfizer will make a lot of money from these vaccines, and the U.S. government assumed a lot of the upfront risk in this case, so I’m not sure why Pfizer didn’t just continue to fill their supply as planned, even if it meant oversupplying a little,” said Dr. Aaron S. Kesselheim, a professor of medicine at the Brigham and Women’s Hospital and Harvard Medical School, who studies drug prices.

_________________
Every woman who has ever been presented with a career/sex quid pro quo in the entertainment industry should come forward and simply say, “Me, too.” - jammer The New York Times 10/10/17

[FrozenLVFan]

We can only hope Moderna announces they can ramp up production and supply all the vaccines we need, then our pharmacists can tell Pfizer to pound sand. If they're struggling to get the last drop out the vial, it means a lot of patients will get less than the specified dosage amount.

[Ex-Ref]

Got my second shot today!

Hoping that everyone that wants one gets theirs soon. I'm still hearing of health care workers that have/had an opportunity to get vaccinated that they won't do it. They are saying that they have been face to face with COVID for ~10 months now (for the majority of the country) and if they haven't had it yet or were asymptomatic when they did have it, they feel like that is good enough.

Also, some of them have recently been treated for COVID and are supposed to wait 90 days before getting vaccinated.

_________________
"Women are judged on their success, men on their potential. It’s time we started believing in the potential of women." —Muffet McGraw

“Thank you for showing the fellas that you've got more balls than them,” Haley said, to cheers from the crowd.

[tfan]

Just heard today that my cousin, who is the daughter of a nurse and a lifelong nurse, chose not to get the vaccine. She says she will get the vaccine if the hospital requires it. I know there is a belief that vaccines caused the autism that showed up in babies right around their first group of vaccinations. And people will say they aren't getting a flu shot because they did it once and had flu-like symptoms afterwards. And probably other issues relating to negative (I think almost always temporary) reactions to a vaccine. But I would think that healthcare workers would not be opposed to them.

[jammerbirdi]

I don’t know who it was... but I seem to recall it was a high public official... who said there ultimately won’t be a vaccine shortage because only about 120 million Americans will ever get vaccinated. I believe that. Some of that is fear of the vaccine itself and some of it is a defiant attitude towards everything to do with the pandemic.

_________________
Every woman who has ever been presented with a career/sex quid pro quo in the entertainment industry should come forward and simply say, “Me, too.” - jammer The New York Times 10/10/17

[FrozenLVFan]

[Ex-Ref]

From what I've seen of healthcare workers around me, I'd say that 30% is pretty close.

Now the 70+ age group, a LOT of people that I come in contact with are telling me that they have received their first shot, are scheduled to get it in the next couple of weeks or trying to get scheduled. Like GlennMac, some are driving 30-40+ miles to get it. Also, for some, one spouse is going to one county to get it while the other has to go the opposite direction to a different county to get it.

A few people that I've talked to had chosen their site and time, but by the time they had entered their information, that appointment was no longer available.

A lot of the pharmacies around here now have it - Walgreens, CVS, Walmart and I assume Kroger although I haven't heard that one for sure. It will be interesting to see what changes that will bring to wait times. The same amount of supply, only spread to more locations. Will having more people to inject make a difference? Or is supply going to be an issue.

A county south of Indy was sent an extra box of thawed vaccine (957 doses I think it was). They were about to alert and call in enough at risk people to get it that none was spoiled. Yea!! (It does beg the question of why it was "extra?" Was it supposed to go to another location that didn't get it, or was it just a mistake of maybe typing a 2 instead of a 1 or a 3 instead of a 2?)

_________________
"Women are judged on their success, men on their potential. It’s time we started believing in the potential of women." —Muffet McGraw

“Thank you for showing the fellas that you've got more balls than them,” Haley said, to cheers from the crowd.

[FrozenLVFan]

[Ex-Ref]

[J-Spoon]

According to NY1 NYC is out of vaccine until more arrives next week

[GlennMacGrady]

Newspapers in Connecticut are full of stories about the difficulty seniors, who often don't have computers, cell phones or transportation, are having getting appointments via the state's website and call center.

[GlennMacGrady]

In week after 2nd Pfizer vaccine shot, only 20 of 128,000 Israelis get COVID

[jammerbirdi]

I don’t even know where this came from other than the Apple news watch thing on my iPhone but I think it might be the Washington Post.

‘I Feel Like I Got in Through a Side Door’

Five people who lucked into a COVID vaccine dose talk about their complicated feelings.

The government’s botched vaccine rollout has meant that many vulnerable Americans aren’t able to get shots. States are scrambling for more doses, while frustrated seniors (with the help of family members) spend hours trying and failing to book appointments on glitchy websites that crash. But while the Trump administration completely blew its end-of-year goal to vaccinate 20 million mostly frontline workers and elderly people, a dystopian subplot has emerged: Relatively young, healthy adults who are currently ineligible for the vaccine have randomly lucked into extra doses that were set to expire (unfrozen vials of both FDA-approved vaccines are useless after six hours).

If someone doesn’t show up to a scheduled appointment, those who are in the right place at the right time (a pharmacy, or even a street corner near a vaccination site), or who have the right personal connections (a nurse friend), get a coveted immunity that would otherwise go to waste. The phenomenon is becoming more common and deliberate, with lines forming outside of D.C. pharmacies and hundreds gathering at Brooklyn vaccination sites, like concertgoers hungry for rush tickets.

Some consider these shameful stories of people leapfrogging over those in desperate need. But medical ethicists agree that anyone lucky enough to get a vaccine should take it. Turning down a shot does nothing to solve the federal government’s flawed system, which didn’t even give states the money or guidance to plan for extra doses. Still, the backdrop of mass death and bureaucratic incompetence has left the randomly vaccinated with complicated emotions. The Cut spoke with five of them about how the relief of immunity is mixed with guilt and anger.

“I knew the right person, and I was able to be in the right place at the right time.” —Richelle Carey, 40s, Texas, Journalist

One of my relatives has a nurse friend who gave my family a heads-up that she might be able to get us the shot if the hospital ends up with extras. She never knows if it’s available until the end of the day. My 65-year-old mom got vaccinated first and texted me one or two days later to say, “I think she’s going to contact you.” After a few minutes, I got a message from the nurse that said, “If you can be here before five, we can do this.” I got dressed immediately.

I was obviously excited. But I actually grappled with feeling a little guilty because I’m not in the high-risk group. I feel like I should be at the back of the line. I knew the right person, and I was able to be in the right place at the right time — that’s how a lot of the world works. That kind of messed with me a bit. But at the same time, I knew that it was going to go to waste if I didn’t get there in 45 minutes. And the more people who are vaccinated, the better.
Now my aunt is in the hospital with COVID, and I’m like, Whoa, should I have taken her to get it instead?, which actually just wasn’t logistically possible in the time I had. I feel bad that I have the vaccine, and my cousin’s 70-something-year-old uncle who is in terrible health hasn’t been able to get it. That is gut-wrenchingly sad and enraging. It shouldn’t be this hard for anybody. I’ve been trying to schedule shots for some of my older relatives, and I can’t. So my family has made it known to this nurse that if you have any more extras, we would like to get some.

I was hesitant to tell my small circle of friends or shout from the mountaintops that I happened to get lucky. It felt kind of insensitive. But when I posted my news to social media, people responded by saying they were having similar experiences, and I thought, Okay, I don’t have anything to be ashamed of. I have chosen to try and squash those feelings of guilt because it’s not healthy. They come from how dysfunctional the whole process is. If the Trump administration had been competent and cared, none of this would be as bad. And, actually, quite frankly, I have gotten a little closer to just feeling relieved that I have it.

I was like, Is this a scam?” —Ricardo Sheler, 18, New York, Student

My parents were driving me from D.C. to check into my NYU dorm for the start of second semester. We were running an hour and a half late, which I thought would delay my mandatory COVID-19 test and the start of my quarantine. I step out of the car and start stretching, and 40 seconds later, this guy runs out of the alley next to my dorm. He comes up to us and is like,

“Do you want to get vaccinated for COVID?” And I’m thinking, Yo, what? Who is this guy? Is this real? I just kind of look to my parents and I’m like, “Ugh, you guys want to get vaccinated?” But they already had COVID-19 and were just so passive about it. The guy was so frantic! He’s like, “We have one dose up, you gotta come!” He told me later he was running throughout the streets trying to find people. So we’re sprinting down this dark alleyway to the vaccination building. In the back of my mind, I was like, Is this a scam? Like, this would be a really good time to kidnap me. I’m a very trusting person at times, but it helped that he was wearing a face mask, face shield, and a bright orange vest. It seemed like he was a legit worker for a vaccine center.

When I got ushered in, I saw a bunch of security officers and health-care workers, and that’s when it kind of hit me: Oh, wait, he’s serious. I was posting to Snapchat, like, “Guys, I’m not kidding. This random dude picked me up off the street and is letting me get the COVID vaccine ’cause they were gonna waste it WTFFFFF.” My friends started FaceTiming me. They are letting me come back in 28 days for a second dose, which is crazy — there’s no take-backsies.

I was really ecstatic. This stuff is gold. It’s the most-wanted thing in America right now! I started talking with Justin, the guy who brought me over, and he was saying how frustrated he’s been the past couple of weeks seeing the doses get thrown out. No vaccine is wasted if it goes in someone’s arm. It could save a life, even if the shot should have gone to a more high-risk person.

Someone at my school posted to Instagram, “If you weren’t supposed to get the vaccine until much later, but you managed to anyway, don’t brag about it. You look like an a-hole.” She was obviously referencing me, since I had posted about it. My reaction was that she was kind of meaninglessly virtue-signaling. This is not to shame her; we had a conversation. But I don’t feel that I was bragging about getting the vaccine or talking about it in an arrogant way. I meant to express the randomness of the story and spread awareness about the vaccine so that people trust it.

I actually don’t feel guilty for a very specific reason: I am just a lucky bystander who benefited from a systemic issue. Instead of personal guilt, I feel ashamed that something like this can happen. And I feel the collective frustration of the people who have been trying to get an appointment and they couldn’t, especially in poor Black and brown communities. I got the vaccine through luck. I didn’t pay my way in. My dorm happened to be in proximity to this vaccination center, which was in a more affluent area of Brooklyn, and that’s where the privilege may come in. But I wasn’t someone who had some kind of backdoor access.

“I texted her and was like, ‘I can’t. This feels so wrong.’” —Susan*, 50, Washington, D.C., Journalist

I was on a Zoom meeting for work and got a call from a doctor I know. I picked it up and said, “Is this a butt-dial? What is happening?” And she was like, “We have an extra dose of the vaccine. The vial is open. We have asked everyone in the waiting room and called all the patients who we think are vulnerable, and nobody wants it. If you come in the next hour, you can have it.” My little 12-year-old son was home and he was like, “Go, go, go, go now!!” I literally left the house in my slippers. I had a kind of like Harry Potter–like notion in my mind of steam coming out of some potion that was going to expire any minute.

This doctor was an acquaintance of mine and called because she knew I have diabetes. She could have given it to her sister or best friend or whatever. There are people more vulnerable than me, but it wasn’t just random. I texted her and was like, “I can’t. This feels so wrong. Isn’t there anyone else?” And she was like, “I have tried everyone. You’re welcome not to come, but I’m going to throw it away.”

The day I got it, there was a weird injection of hopefulness, like this sort of rom-com moment where there’s glitter and everything. I haven’t felt that free and light in months. At the same time, I feel like I got in through a side door. It reminded me of when I was in Russia in the late ’90s asking someone, “How would I get that soft bread?” It was like: If you talk to this person or that person and put yourself in just the right place, then you’ll get the soft bread. I was also wondering, Why aren’t her patients doing it? Is there some weird inequality even in the fact that she was calling me because she knows I will not be vaccine resistant?

I felt guilty because this is somebody who can reach me on my cell phone and knew that I would, and could, come right away. This doctor works in a clinic where her patients are mostly Black. She and her colleagues had tried to give the extra vaccine to those who are deeply vulnerable because they are wildly overweight, very diabetic, or have lung, breathing problems and offered to pick them up in a car. They went around and asked everybody sitting in the waiting room. And everyone they asked said no. So when you talk about feeling guilty, I’m basically benefiting from the kind of suspicion particularly poor Black people have toward a racist health-care system.

The vaccine hasn’t radically changed my life. I do have diabetes, and it just keeps me from feeling extremely vulnerable. Otherwise, nothing’s open, and none of my friends are vaccinated. There’s not like a secret underground restaurant where all the vaccinated people can hang out and party.

“It felt like winning the lottery.” —David McMillan, 31, Washington, D.C., Student

I got the vaccine on New Year’s Day. My friend and I were picking up some ingredients at a Giant Food to make coconut-chickpea curry for dinner. As we’re walking up to the pharmacy, we see a staff member offering the vaccine to an older lady. The woman was hesitant and confused. She said something like, “I just don’t know enough about it.” So the pharmacist turned to my friend and I and said, “Hey, I have two doses of the Moderna vaccine. We’re closing in ten minutes, and if I don’t give them to someone, then I have to throw them away. Do you want them?” I was just like, “Yes.” No hesitation there.

I was very, very excited. It felt like winning the lottery. We had just walked in to get groceries and walked out holding a million dollars. I posted a video of me getting the shot to TikTok, which went viral. A lot of people have messaged me to ask where the grocery store is, and it’s obviously not great for them to be waiting in line for eight hours to try and get lucky. But I’m glad people are excited. The fact that the woman ahead of me at the pharmacy was hesitant made me want to talk more about it. The only reason I was in this position was because someone else was afraid of the vaccine. I grew up in an anti-science, anti-medicine, anti-government kind of Evangelical cult community. Now I have a degree in physics and have spoken out about vaccine safety.

I don’t work in any sort of health-care context. And the pharmacist who gave it to me said she hadn’t even been vaccinated, which is absurd. I didn’t ask why, but that really surprised me. I was like, “Oh, wow, so you are looking out for other people before taking it yourself.” But I have young twins who are premature, so their lungs are a little more susceptible. Knowing that I’m not going to give them COVID made me feel happy. I’ve thought about whether I should feel conflicted, but there was only ten minutes before the pharmacy closed. Had there been more time, maybe I would have said, “Well, let me see if there’s someone else who wants it.” Honestly, I probably would have still taken it and then felt guilty that I should have done something different.

But, you know, the vaccine rollout has been so poor that just knowing someone’s getting it is valuable. And, to me, that kind of outweighs any other feelings. The fact that there’s no support to create some sort of a backup list for extras is ridiculous — the CDC could have known that this would be an issue. I’m a little worried about my second dose because supposedly there is no national stockpile. I’m thinking, Okay, if they’re reserving my second dose, does that mean someone else who needs it isn’t going to get a first dose as soon? That’s definitely something that I’m concerned about. I’m happy I got the shot, but I wish it had been for a good reason, rather than as a symptom of just abject government failure.

“There’s no guilt in that situation.” —Hannah Frishberg, 26, New York, Reporter

A few weeks ago, I went to get a COVID-19 test at a clinic in Brooklyn. I was waiting in the lobby to be called, and I overheard a man on staff whispering to his colleague that there was an extra vaccination dose. “Is there anyone in the building who wants it?” I started jumping and saying “Me!,” and he seemed kind of surprised by my sheer joy and giddiness. But he nodded and led me upstairs to the place where they were vaccinating people. I made sure that I wouldn’t feel guilty by asking if there was anyone else around who was more eligible or vulnerable than me. He was like, “No, the clinic is closing.” The only person ahead of me was the trash cans. I mean, wasting a dose versus giving me a dose? There’s no guilt in that situation.

It felt like such a historic moment. I wouldn’t shut up and was just rambling about how grateful I was that the nurses didn’t waste the shot. A representative from New York’s Department of Health told me they were disgusted by what happened and are launching an investigation into this clinic. [In Frishberg’s piece, the DOH said: “It appears this clinic did not follow state guidance which clearly spells out specific steps providers must take to ensure all doses are properly distributed.”] I think it’s pathetic. I think it’s horrific the way that nurses have continually had to bear the brunt of governmental failure throughout this pandemic and interpret an impossible web of contradictory guidelines. It’s become a kind of Kafkaesque nightmare where paperwork and eligibility are being prioritized over saving lives and vaccinating as many people as possible.

_________________
Every woman who has ever been presented with a career/sex quid pro quo in the entertainment industry should come forward and simply say, “Me, too.” - jammer The New York Times 10/10/17

[Ex-Ref]

I'm not hearing too many stories like the ones that Jammer posted.

I am hearing a lot of people talk about getting their first shot or even getting scheduled for it! And, yes, some are giddy about it. It is a mess though. Most of the people I talk to have to travel 30, 40 or 50 miles to get it. I heard of one person that was finally able to get scheduled down by Indy! Two hours away!!

Think of a diamond shape and a dot in the middle. Label the corners north, south, east and west. Label the dot center.

A lot of people from center are going to north and east to get their shot. Some are going from east to center to get theirs. Some from center have been offered to go to west, but ended up going to north or east after the time they had chosen in west was gone by the time they got their info entered into the computer. I know of another couple from south that had to go to north to get their shots. I don't know if center just has more people that want the shot vs. people in north and east, or if center didn't get enough shots allocated. I hear very few people from center, actually getting their shots in center.

_________________
"Women are judged on their success, men on their potential. It’s time we started believing in the potential of women." —Muffet McGraw

“Thank you for showing the fellas that you've got more balls than them,” Haley said, to cheers from the crowd.

[Ex-Ref]

Oregon health workers stuck in a snowstorm gave vaccines that were going to expire to other drivers that were also stuck in the snowstorm.

[jammerbirdi]

Can Hollywood Elites Jump the Line?

By Matt Donnelly

Variety

As coronavirus vaccines trickle out across the country and new infections and deaths rise at alarming rates in cities like Los Angeles, some power players in entertainment and media are leveraging their clout and connections to be amongst the first to get inoculated.

Numerous high-flying executives and dealmakers have been cycling through private physicians and concierge services to receive one of the two established COVID-19 vaccines on the market. Others have been tapping their vast resources in a mad dash to get vaccinated as the government, especially in Hollywood’s native California, churns through a sluggish rollout.

Some efforts to receive the vaccine ahead of schedule do not violate any laws – though they have raised questions of ethics and good taste in exclusive social circles and boardrooms across Los Angeles.

It’s also clear that power and wealth, which allow many in the Hollywood community to afford on-demand doctors and access private planes to engage in vaccine tourism, have enabled them to get shots more safely and efficiently than average citizens. It illustrates the gaping chasm that exists between haves and have nots in this country when it comes to healthcare.

Some media heavyweights are openly exploring options outside of the L.A. county health system in what they view as a life-or-death race against the high demand and limited supply of vaccines.

Music industry legend Irving Azoff is among those who recently obtained a vaccine, around the time in mid-January when Los Angeles County expanded access to the shots for citizens 65 and older, a new tier that previously only prioritized healthcare workers and those over 75.

These expanded inoculations were not available at LA-area testing sites like Dodgers Stadium or concert venue The Forum until Tuesday of last week. While sources said Azoff was facilitating vaccines for those in his sphere of influence, he only confirmed his own inoculation.

“I’m a 73-year-old cancer survivor. I recently had part of my intestine removed. Damn right I received the vaccine, and I’m glad I did. Everyone eligible should get vaccinated as soon as they can,” Azoff told Variety.

Azoff is said by sources to be among several notable figures recommended to Dr. Robert Bray, a neurological spine surgeon whose specialty practice is based in Newport Beach, Calif. Bray is being referred in power circles by Robert Goldstein, sources said, the acting chairman and CEO of the Las Vegas Sands Corporation, which owns Las Vegas’ Venetian Hotel and similar properties in Macau.

Beverly Hills-based Dr. Robert Huizenga confirmed to Variety that his practice has been offered in excess of $10,000 by individuals, including members of the entertainment industry, desperate to get vaccinated.

“We’ve been offered bribes. We see people taking planes to every location. We’ve seen people try to transiently get into the healthcare profession or on staff at nursing homes, so they qualify for an early vaccine,” said the physician, who has also appeared as an expert on the NBC weight loss competition show “The Biggest Loser.”

Huizenga said individuals from the entertainment space were well represented in those hustling for an early shot, in a “fight for their lives. You can’t really blame them for pulling out all the stops. The state and the government have set up a system that is really horrendous.”

Hundreds of elite executives, agents and stars are mightily coming down on their top-tier healthcare providers in L.A.’s Westside neighborhoods, where a major vaccination site has yet to be designated. Those enrolled in UCLA’s executive health program (which is or isn’t a concierge health service, depending on who you ask) have been inundating program director Dr. Robert Ansell for information on when they can receive the vaccine.

“UCLA is operating extremely by the book and hasn’t given a single shot to the concierge patients,” one member of the service said. The UCLA executive health program requires a fee and donation to UCLA Medical Center, which costs in the $15,000 to $25,000 range on an annual basis, numerous members said, on top of premium medical care.

Some members have been openly venting to industry figures on UCLA’s Board of Regents — including United Talent Agency co-president Jay Sures, Mandalay Entertainment CEO Peter Guber, and former Paramount Pictures chief Sherry Lansing – about the vaccine rollout in Los Angeles, and asking when concierge patients might be eligible.

A spokesperson for UCLA said that “philanthropic support is in no way a criterion to determine vaccine candidacy, and no program or options exist to bypass vaccination priorities at UCLA Health. We are following the direction of the Los Angeles County Department of Public Health and prioritizing health care workers, followed by patients 65 and older and facing the greatest risk based on their medical conditions. As supplies increase and guidelines expand, we are prepared to increase the number of people being offered an opportunity to be vaccinated.”

A UTA spokesperson and Guber did not immediately respond to Variety’s request for comment. Lansing confirmed that vaccine-eligible friends and colleagues called her only recently for information on how to register for the shot and insisted “not one person ever asked me to break the line or use influence.”

Los Angeles residents using boutique physicians have also jam-packed a waiting list at Beverly Hills celebrity pharmacy Mickey Fine, the Roxbury Drive haunt which has touted state-of-the-art vaccine refrigeration in their pharmacy and adjoining café. The location has yet to administer a single shot, said those on the waiting list. In an audio message to patients, the pharmacy confirms it has yet to receive either vaccine currently available.

Managers, agents, producers and a few film directors have pivoted from their daily business to focus on helping clients and stars find vaccines for family members, insiders said. Some notable names are using their own shoe leather, not representatives, to seek out the vaccine.

Some Hollywood power players are aghast that people in the industry are using their connections as millions of healthcare workers, older citizens, teachers, and essential workers toil in line. As of January 15, reports citing the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said that California has only administered 2,716 doses for every 100,000 residents.

“Industry people in these positions should be using their power to help and heal the system, not hurt it,” said one former healthcare worker-turned-media-executive.

Good tuna salad sandwiches and coffee at Mickey Fine’s. And do I have an Irving Azoff story? Unfortunately I do.

_________________
Every woman who has ever been presented with a career/sex quid pro quo in the entertainment industry should come forward and simply say, “Me, too.” - jammer The New York Times 10/10/17

[jammerbirdi]

LA Times

No bathrooms. No seating. Endless lines. Struggling seniors face vaccine misery

By HAYLEY SMITH STAFF WRITER
JAN. 28, 2021 5 AM PT

On a chilly January afternoon, 86-year-old Selda Hollander sat on the grass next to a baseball field in Encino.

Though eligible for the COVID-19 vaccine, Hollander hadn’t been able to navigate the appointment system online or over the phone. She had heard about the unofficial standby line at the Balboa Sports Complex and decided to try her luck.

“I can’t figure out if it’s worth it,” she said, shivering slightly as she hugged her knees against the cold. “I’m waiting for the vaccine, but I can get sick because of the weather.”

Hollander is one of countless seniors who are struggling to navigate the region’s rocky rollout of the COVID-19 vaccine. Those over 65 have discovered that being eligible for the vaccine is one thing; actually receiving it is another.

The system set up by Los Angeles County seems, in many ways, to be a young person’s game: It can take social media skills, technology savvy, reliable transportation and even physical stamina to obtain one of the coveted shots. That leaves some of the county’s most vulnerable residents at a serious disadvantage.

“Age is an equity factor, and it should be looked at that way,” said Fred Buzo, associate state director at AARP California, who has worked on Gov. Gavin Newsom’s community vaccine advisory committee since its inception. “Especially when it comes to this crisis.”

According to data from the California Department of Public Health, state residents over the age of 70 who contract COVID-19 are 24 times more likely to die of the virus than those who are younger.

And while Latino and Black communities have been disproportionately affected by the pandemic, Buzo said, “age was really the only factor that cut across all demographics.”

Yet Angelenos over 65 cited a number of barriers between themselves and the vaccine, technology among the most prominent. Many residents — and their children and grandchildren — report spending hours trying to secure appointments through the clunky online portal. Calls to the telephone appointment line often go unanswered and unreturned.

“I had to sign my grandmother up by logging in to the county website at 2 a.m. when traffic to the site was lower,” said Jamie Tijerina, who lives north of downtown.

Tijerina said she will be driving her grandmother to her appointment, but that she has been told she will need to present a QR code upon arrival, something that requires a cellphone or a least a decent printer.

Donna Spratt, an 82-year-old Cerritos resident waiting in the vaccine line at East L.A.'s Lincoln Park, said she couldn’t figure out how to use the online system at all.

“Once you’re retired, you kind of lose contact with these things,” Spratt said. She had to call on her daughter for help securing an appointment, and on her son to drive her the 20-some miles to get there.

But successfully securing an appointment is only one part of the challenge. The five county-run mass vaccination sites are drive-through only, which means seniors who cannot drive have to rely on a friend or family member to access the sites, or risk the cost and exposure of hailing a ride-share car or using public transportation.

During a Board of Supervisors meeting Tuesday, L.A. County Supervisor Hilda Solis said she has received calls from several seniors who couldn’t get to vaccine appointments because of transportation limitations. She spoke with one 67-year-old who said he took three buses to get to his appointment at L.A. County-USC Medical Center.

Solis is directing the county to work out an agreement with municipal and regional transit operators to provide direct access to the vaccine sites.

But even at the sites, accessibility is an issue. The city-run vaccination site at Dodger Stadium is also drive-through only, and numerous residents have reported spending as long as four hours in the line. Andrea Garcia, a spokeswoman for Mayor Eric Garcetti, said there are portable bathrooms at the site, but several seniors said they couldn’t find them.

“I inched along for two hours,” one Eagle Rock resident wrote on Facebook. “My appointment was long past, and the call of nature forced me to give up. It has been impossible to get another appointment.”

Another said she considered buying an adult diaper for the wait.

“This is a huge issue for women, and particularly women and men over a certain age,” she said, adding that it caused so much anxiety that she considered canceling her appointment.

Walk-up sites, which include community clinics and sites run by the Los Angeles Fire Department, are not without pitfalls either. At the Lincoln Park and Crenshaw Christian Center clinics, it is not uncommon to see streams of cars circling around hunting for spaces. Some seniors said they had to park several blocks away and walk.

“It’s clownish,” 65-year-old Max Tolkoff said of the city’s rollout to seniors thus far. Tolkoff underwent several back surgeries in the last year, and he was using a rolling walker to get through the line at Lincoln Park one windy afternoon.

“Hopefully, they’ll smooth it out in a couple of weeks,” he said.

AARP’s Buzo said part of the reason the rollout has been so challenging for residents over 65 is a lack of transparency about supply levels and appointment availability. He said there’s a strong need for some baseline of consistency.

The “checkerboard approach,” he said, has created substantial confusion, particularly when the state and county were at odds over which tiers and age groups were eligible for their shots. He was pleased that the state will be moving to an age-based rollout, and said seniors’ concerns should continue to be factored in.

But the lack of clear information has created fertile ground for rumors, and social media has become as much a source of information as most official channels. On NextDoor and in neighborhood Facebook groups, people swap tips for how to secure appointments.

One Bay Area resident named Michelle, who asked that her last name not be used, said the only way she was able to secure an appointment for her parents in L.A. was by setting up a Twitter alert on her phone.

After scrambling, Michelle found them slots at a walk-up site in San Fernando, which she initially thought would be safer because it was outdoors.

“Then I thought, ‘Wait a minute, even in L.A. it gets cold, sometimes it rains — what did I just set my parents up for?” she said. “When you start to think about all the logistics, it seems impractical.”

That seniors should be called upon to gather together in public, often for hours at a time, is counterintuitive to all pandemic guidance thus far, she said.

Michelle tried calling the Public Health Department and the Fire Department to ask about conditions at the site. Her mother, 85, relies on a portable oxygen tank, and she wanted to know if the site would have an extra supply on hand in case she ran out while waiting. She never heard back.

Back at Balboa, Hollander contemplated the meaning of the task at hand while she shivered in the grass.

“You feel, at my age, is it even worth living?” she asked. Her husband died in July, and even though he didn’t have COVID-19, she wasn’t allowed to visit him in the hospital. Their dog died a week later from grief, she said.

“I can’t go out because of [the pandemic], I can’t do things,” she said. “Only eight people were allowed at my husband’s funeral.”

Despite the inhospitable conditions in the line, Hollander said her faith was slowly restored throughout the day. A young man offered her his folding chair. Later, someone offered her a blanket.

Nearly five hours after arriving at the site, Hollander was pulled out of the brisk cold and into a red brick building. She sat down and rolled up her sleeve. She got her shot.

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Every woman who has ever been presented with a career/sex quid pro quo in the entertainment industry should come forward and simply say, “Me, too.” - jammer The New York Times 10/10/17

[FrozenLVFan]

This is why other states have banned private medical practices from giving vaccines because of the incentives to cheat and difficulty policing them. I can imagine it's a lot worse in a place with a lot of ultra-rich and connected people anxious to exploit them.

[pilight]

[jammerbirdi]

Maybe this has been covered in this thread but does anyone know how much either the Pfizer or Moderna vaccine costs per dose?

_________________
Every woman who has ever been presented with a career/sex quid pro quo in the entertainment industry should come forward and simply say, “Me, too.” - jammer The New York Times 10/10/17

[Ex-Ref]

[FrozenLVFan]

[jammerbirdi]

Thanks for the info, guys. Now I just have to remember why I asked.

_________________
Every woman who has ever been presented with a career/sex quid pro quo in the entertainment industry should come forward and simply say, “Me, too.” - jammer The New York Times 10/10/17