You’ve probably heard the stories just as we have. Perhaps you have your own story.
John, a Tennessee resident, went across the border to Georgia to get his coronavirus vaccines because of his former status as a rescue squad member in that state. Nancy, a Hamilton County resident, went to Sequatchie County to get hers. Brian, a 20-something graduate student was able to get his vaccination by virtue of his school placement in the behavioral health field. Phyllis, a Chattanooga resident over 75, was turned away at an early vaccination drive-through but learned the family members of those administering the shots were invited to come down later that day to get their injections.
We have no independent knowledge of precisely how the vaccine, from at least two manufacturers, is distributed through the federal government to the states and to individual counties. Is it based on the number of people in each county or the number of frontline workers in each county? Does it take into account the percentage of elderly in each county? In Hamilton County, for instance, 17.9% of its residents – as of July 1, 2019 – are 65 or over. In Brentwood, Tennessee, it’s 13.5%.
What about risk factors? Would a 45-year-old man with diabetes be more at risk than a 55-year-old man with heart disease? Would the 19-year-old special needs patient need the vaccines more than the 7-year-old cancer patient?
Since health officials know the virus is more susceptible among Black and Hispanic people than white people, should they be at the head of the line? But what if their population skews younger and they live in a county with more elderly people? And if they are more susceptible, is that because of genetics or lifestyle or neither or both? And how can we determine that in order to be equitable?