I'm 35 and got the AstraZeneca vaccine. Here's why

ABC:

I'm 35 and got the AstraZeneca vaccine. Here's why

"A few psychological principles enabled me to make a firm decision regarding vaccinations," writes Dr Ahona Guha. (Supplied: Dr Ahona Guha)

I am a 35-year-old woman, and two weeks ago today, I received my second dose of the AstraZeneca vaccine.

As a healthcare worker, I was in a priority group for the vaccine roll out.

The AstraZeneca was the only vaccine offered to me, and I was told that I could refuse it but that the wait for Pfizer would be indeterminate.

But I had no qualms about taking both doses I was offered.

For some of us vaccine hesitancy is a privilege

Why? The answer is very simple.

My entire family resides in India. As soon as the second wave hit, I urged them all to get vaccinated despite the concerns some of them had about side effects.

They did, and none of them contracted COVID-19. I am sure that the other precautions they took also contributed to this — and a good measure of luck. Nevertheless, vaccine hesitancy was an option they could not afford as the country reeled under the outbreak.

Australia has had a different set of circumstances.

There has been significant confusion in the messaging around risk and this kind of confusion is understandably intensified within communities with language diversity or historic distrust of authorities.

But some of the debate around AstraZeneca has also been fuelled by our privileged circumstances and for me, with my professional experience and access to information, vaccine hesitancy or complacency have felt like privileges. Privileges I have chosen not to adopt because that choice might impact someone less privileged.

I have expected other outbreaks and understand that our current control of COVID-19 rests on a knife edge, as indeed NSW is currently demonstrating.

I have no specific prescient powers, I just read the news and know what has occurred globally.

I have hated lockdowns as much as the next person, and I know that the only contributions I can make toward reducing them are getting vaccinated and following public health advice.

Ahona (right) and her sister who is from India. They have been unable to see each other since March 2020 due to coronavirus restrictions.(Supplied: Dr Ahona Guha)

How my profession has informed my choice

As a forensic psychologist I understand risk intimately. I sit with risks every day — the risk that someone will re-offend, the risk that someone will hurt themselves or someone else — and I know that risk can never be fully eradicated.

I understand the risks of clotting disorders after the vaccination, and I stopped to consider the other behaviours that have placed me at higher risk of similar clotting conditions (using the contraceptive pill, taking non-steroidal anti-inflammatories and flying around the world a few times over — as examples).

I also know that I will jump on an aeroplane as soon as the borders open again. And it will likely be my vaccination status that enables to me to fly internationally again, as I am propelled through the air with no concern for any possible clots that might be developing in my legs in the high-pressure environs of a cabin.

A few psychological principles enabled me to make a firm decision regarding vaccinations.

I was able to hold in mind a common principle I use when working with clients with anxiety, i.e. 'change what you can control, and let go of the rest'. I know that I cannot change what other people do, or what the virus does, but I can get vaccinated to ensure that I am protected in the event of an outbreak.

Being able to factor a few handy cognitive psychology principles into my thinking helped too.

Such as our very human tendency to rely on the availability bias (the human tendency to over-rely on immediately available information such as media reports about a few cases of blood clots, and to ignore information that is not as visible, like the millions of people who have had the AZ with no adverse effects), to over-estimate risks and our loss aversion bias (the way we tend to focus on immediately available information such as media reports about clots and the possible losses or downsides of a strategy, such as vaccination, and ignore the possible gains).

I thought about human resilience, and applied the same question I ask anxious clients to my own thinking; "If I get a clot after the vaccination, would I cope?" The answer — very likely yes, and I would almost certainly receive the best medical care possible.

Anxiety sits at the confluence of our over-estimation of risk and under-estimation of our capacity to cope.

I also know that all of life has risk, including the drive I took to my local vaccination hub.

Risk has not stopped me from making other choices, such as driving a car, and I do not see why a very low baseline risk should stop me from engaging in a potentially lifesaving action now.

The choice didn't seem like much of a choice at all

I thought carefully about my own responsibility to get vaccinated for myself and my community, considered my individual risk profile and the importance of being protected in the event of another outbreak.

The risk of doing nothing seemed higher than the very small risk of an adverse effect, and the choice to get vaccinated did not seem like much of a choice at all.