Why do I fear the vaccine more than the virus?, by Marvin Wade

This month, we’ll have a series of dispatches that have developed out of extensive conversations in our workshop around Covid-19 and the vaccination, particularly the logic of whether they plan to to get it. This week, Marvin Wade explains why, for now, he’s against getting vaccinated.

You can trace my fear back to 1994. While being held on Rikers Island to fight murder charges, I was involved in an altercation with another prisoner as well as correctional  officers, which resulted in me receiving a broken jaw. I was transferred from Rikers to Kings County Hospital that night. I was in so much pain. Couldn't wait to see a doctor, a nurse, anyone that could ease the pain I was going through. Once at the hospital I was housed in a prison wing that held about 8 other prisoners. I was told I would have to wait till morning to see the doctor and given two tablets for the pain. I asked, "What about my jaw?"  I received no answer as the door to the room slammed in my face. I saw a doctor the next day who looked at my jaw and told me that they would let me know when I'll have the surgery. I ended up waiting for weeks before anything was done to my jaw. I had no idea that it was procedure to let the bone heal then rebreak it. I wasn't told anything during this time. My family and I were losing our minds over the lack of communication. My questions each day about my jaw to anyone and everyone who I would see came with no answers. But it wasn't the wait for surgery that gave me an inkling into the disdain and lack of respect doctors and nurses had for us prisoners. It was the mistreatment of another prisoner in the room of 8, that truly prepared me for my future interactions with hospital administrators.

I don't remember his name sadly. But we were neighbors during my first couple of days in the wing. My hospital bed next to his. I spoke to him while holding up my chin with my thumb due to the fact that it was cracked and my left jaw was shattered. It was the only way for me to communicate. He would cringe at the clicking sound that was made when my hand became restless and the jaw would slide down and I would push it back up in place with a "click." What painful memories. He himself was preparing for liver surgery. Didn't know the extent at the time of his condition. But can remember the odor he had and the yellowness of his eyes and skin. I wished him well. He was from Brooklyn as well. Fort Greene. We shared memories of when Fort Greene and my projects, which was Red Hook, would fight with one another at Albee square mall from time to time which was in Fort Greene's home turf. My third day there they took him out for surgery. He returned at bout 9 that night to the wing but was sleeping when they wheeled him in. It was about 12 midnight when the yelling started. He screamed and yelled in pain for at least an hour before a nurse came in and gave him tablets. His yelling and screaming in pain continued. And yet no nurses or doctors would come in to see him, talk to him, or anything. I couldn't believe it. So we all began to yell as well for someone to help him. Finally after two hours, he was wheeled out. To where I don't know. The bed came back the next morning without him and a short period of time later we learned from a correction officer that the brother had passed away. I was so angry.  We were so angry. We were all also so very much afraid as well. Could we be the next ones to die here?  

I received my surgery a few weeks later and afterwards was sent back to Rikers island to start my trial. Boy was I so happy to leave from Kings County Hospital. Now that's trauma at its best, people. When you can't wait to leave one horrible place just to go back to another. Wow! I was eventually convicted and sentenced to 25 years to life. 

After being shipped upstate to prison I began to see almost Immediately just how bad it was going to be for me medically. In Coxsackie Correctional, my first prison facility, I complained about a severe tooth ache within my first few months there, but couldn't get down to see a dentist until the side of my face blew up like a balloon due to an infection.

During the course of my incarceration with stints in other facilities, I was able to witness so much unnecessary suffering by other prisoners at the hands of corrections and the hospital administration. Brothers were dying in their cells after being sent back to the prison block by doctors who claimed they were fine, but knew they weren't. They just didn't care. If you weren't on a call out to see the doctor or nurse, the only other way to see anyone if you were ailing, was to complain of chest pains or literally be near death. 

Another personal experience for me happened in Sing Sing correctional in 2005. I suffered a herniated disc while lifting weights. I was in excruciating pain. Could barely walk but a few steps at a time. But yet I couldn't get a doctor to give me a C.A.T. scan or M.R.I. to see what was wrong. All they wanted to do was prescribe me pain medication. Which I refused. I wanted to know what was wrong with me. But all they wanted to do was shut me up and keep me pacified through medication. Not trying at even the least to "care" for me. This was at a time in my life when I knew very little about the spine and discs. It took months of writing up nurse after nurse. Doctor after Doctor. Administrator after Administrator. Before I was finally given a M.R.I which showed I had a herniated disc. It was then, after the months of complaining, they offered the option of surgery or steroid treatment. I refused it all. I was afraid of surgery. And steroids! Hell no. I knew I had to get through this on my own. There were no other choices in my mind. There was too much fear to trust in these people. I had to trust in Me. Believe that I could find my way.

So I began reading books on the body, diet, and exercising. I also read books about how in this country the poor and disenfranchised were used as Guinea pigs all in the name of "healthcare." I read about the systematic sterilization of black Women in a book called, Killing the Black Body by Dorothy E Roberts. I also read literature on the Tuskegee experiment. About how black men were purposely given the syphilis virus. I also read a book called Acres of Skin by Allen M. Hornblum about the medical experiments performed on prisoners at Holmesburg prison in Philadelphia. These are just a few instances of many where black Brothers and Sisters were used, abused and murdered, all in the name of healthcare. I wasn't going to allow them to make me just another statistic. Not me! During this time period my herniated disc began feeling better. It had been a year now since the injury. Another M.R.I. revealed the disc moved back in place. I couldn't tell if it was to the amazement or dismay of my doctor. In any case I resumed working out again with lighter weights and drinking nothing but water everyday all day. I felt good. I looked good. 

A few years later I discovered the religious organization the Quakers. They held services in Sing Sing. And I stumbled upon them at first as a place to meet up with Brothers from my neighborhood who were on the other side of the prison that I couldn't see unless we went to a chapel service to meet up. So what started out as a hangout spot, grew to have more value to us all than we ever knew. From participating in their services I learned a lot more about the Mind, Body, and Spirit. Silent worship (Meditation) was the major jewel that I discovered there. It taught me the importance of breathing. How measured inhaling and exhaling was important in relaxing the body, Controlling the nervous system. Controlled breathing allowed for me to slow things down externally and internally. To be more aware and in control of my surroundings and of my emotions. This Spiritual awakening contributed greatly to my new path toward health and healing. My blood pressure was now normal. No more anxiety attacks. I became more in control of any conflicts with officers or fellow prisoners. No longer allowing my emotions or the emotions of others to be my guide. My newfound Mental, Spiritual, and Physical foundation now led the way. I routinely received my check ups, but refused anything offered to me by the hospital administration. No flu shots. No aspirin. No tylenol. No cough syrup. No nothing from you! In the 14 years up until my parole, I was sick a total of three times. My immune system was as strong as it's ever been. And I healed and got healthy on my own. 

So in short, my experience behind the wall for 25 years shaped the thought process I have now regarding any system of government wanting to medicate me to health. My Mind, Body, and Spirit equates the vaccine to the tablets they gave me after my jaw was broken, to "shut me up." Not to help me. My Mind, Body, and Spirit equates the vaccine to the tablets given to the brother after liver surgery to "shut him up." Not to help him. My Mind, Body, and Spirit equates the vaccine to the surgery and steroids they offered to me to "shut me up." Not to help me.  

Because of those horrible experiences and tons of others that I witnessed, I have no trust or belief in the Health Care system of this Country. Or belief that they really, truly want to help me. To heal me. To nurse me back to health. The Vaccine to me is nothing more than an instrument used to mask the real problem with healthcare in this country with regards to black and brown people. A silencer to the voices of those who've been crying out for help for years. What happens to our quality of healthcare after we take this vaccine? Nothing! Minorities were dying from inadequate health care way before the virus hit. And will continue to die at rates disproportioned to whites. Fuck waiting for the system to save us. We have to start caring about our own health and trust and believe in the power of self healing. Not medication. I know it might sound crazy, but I learned to believe in the Power of Self, rather than in the Power of medicine. I spent 25 years in prison and came home not beaten, worn down, or dependent on medication. No, I came home at the age of 50 looking and feeling stronger than I was when I came in. Not because of the system, but in spite of it. I looked within for the answer to better health and healing. Not to any doctor or prescribed medication. 

Now that might not work for most. We are in an extreme disadvantage when it comes to healthcare. The system has allowed for a lot of black and brown bodies to be broken down to the point that they have no choice but to depend upon them for help. There are those too far gone in their health to self heal. But there is still plenty of time for many. Still plenty of time to set a health and healing foundation for yourself. One which will allow you to then be in a better position to utilize your options when it comes to your health. Can I self heal?  Should I seek a physician? These should be the ideal options you have in your life. That balance. A balance that gives you complete power over your life and livelihood. Not a system. But sadly in this country for many Black and Brown citizens, the healthcare system are the ones in control of their lives. The more power and control we have over our own life and livelihood, the more strength we'll have to strip it away from the system. We can't be in a position to demand more from the system without first demanding more from ourselves. To the point where the system will begin to need us, instead of us needing them. 

This is why I refuse to upset the strong chemical and Spiritual balance I've developed. I don't want to "need" them. After you take the first vaccine shot you "need" to take another. Then possibly another. Again, I don't want to "need" them. I don't want to take into my body something I don't have any knowledge of or belief in. I do know Myself and my body. And I do believe in Myself and in my body. But I don't believe in this vaccine as it pertains to me. For those that have no choice but to believe in this vaccine, I wish you nothing but the best of health, but hope that you can understand where I'm coming from and why it is I fear the Vaccine more than I fear the Virus.

            Peace! Power! Control!

Editors' Note: For up-to-date information about Covid vaccines, treatment, and prevention, please visit this page.

Marvin Wade is a Spiritual Activist and family Man. Born and raised In Brooklyn NY. Marvin joined the re/creation Bed-Stuy writing workshop in 2019, after participating in a writing class being held in Queensboro correctional facility by Professor Joni Schwartz and joining the group upon his release after 25 years. While incarcerated, Marvin wrote multiple books’ worth of stories, novels, and personal essays on every bit of paper he could find, combining his gift as a storyteller with the art of writing. With the help of the re/creation team Marvin has since increased his knowledge of the computer which has been essential in allowing him to assist in the editing of his dispatches for the re/creation website. His poem “Where I’m From” was recently featured in Voices of Fortune 2020 literary magazine. Look for many great things to come literary and Spiritually from Mr. Marvin Wade.