Reporter CD-Davidson-Hiers helps seniors get vaccine appointments

The reader asked: Can Davidson-Hiers help me?

For 26-year-old Tallahassee Democrat, it was the first sign that technical and logistical problems hindering the deployment of the country’s vaccines were also hitting her North Florida county. So she started to react. She didn’t have all the answers, she talked to the worried callers one after another, but she tried to find.

Over the past four weeks, Davidson-Hiers has acted as an informal vaccine hotline in 294,000 counties, navigating the public health bureaucracy they say has panicked about how to get injections that promise to end the pandemic. I helped.

From a cluttered apartment in Tallahassee, she guided the patient through the sign-up process, sought information from health authorities, and in two cases helped people fill out online forms themselves.

She listens when she can’t provide specific information. In many cases, she said, people just want to talk to someone.

“The fact is that for now, the solid information is therapeutic,” she said in an interview. “When people call me and say,’I’m confused,’ I say.’Yes, I do too. That means you did it right. With this virus , Nothing looks like it. “” “

On the 1st of late December, Davidson-Hiers said he had made 57 calls from residents of Leon County. Dozens more came over the next few days.

The question was basic at first: how can I sign up for this? Are they still taking a walkup? Did you submit the form correctly? As soon as they became more detailed, people wondered about the location of their line, or whether their second dose was available.

Davidson-Hiers said he was careful to tell them only what could be confirmed through the report.

“I answered,” That’s a great question. I’ll take this in front of the health department, “she said. “People react best to communication, which is simply” I don’t know. ” It is safe to say “I don’t know, so I don’t know”. “

The same type of confusion is well established in other communities.Vaccine-eligible patients California, South Carolina, Oklahoma And elsewhere, I’m dissatisfied with the overwhelming number of complex registration forms, buggy websites, or phone lines. Some counties and healthcare providers use the ticket-selling platform Eventbrite to schedule injections. Raise concerns About accessibility and potential scams.

Under the Trump administration’s approach, the complex task of raising public awareness of vaccines, making appointments, and shooting was almost entirely left to the state and local health departments, or agencies. Already nervous due to chronic budget cuts and staff shortages.. Many are struggling to keep up with the surge in demand.Health authorities too Address uncertainty It makes long-term planning difficult when it comes to when to expect vaccines to be shipped from the federal government and the number of vials they receive.

The Florida Department of Health in Leon County stopped accepting vaccination reservations in mid-January, about three weeks after starting injections in people over the age of 65. To date, there have been approximately 29,000 vaccinations in the county. According to state statisticsA spokeswoman for a department in Leon County, Pamela solesby, said in an email that more than 6,000 doses were administered through the local department itself.

Saulsby declined to comment on certain concerns Davidson-Hiers heard from readers. She said the department is reviewing the booking system and “is working closely with community partners to meet the large waiting list of individuals aged 65 and over who have requested booking of the COVID-19 vaccine.” It was.The agency also recently posted Question-and-answer session A page trying to clarify the process.

“We will provide details as soon as possible and keep the senior community up to date through the DOH-Leon website, social media platforms, and local media,” she said.

For now, residents of Leon County still rely on Davidson-Highers.

Technically, she was an education and family reporter for Tallahassee Democrat and played that role about a year and a half ago after being published in the newspaper as an intern and news assistant. She wrote almost nothing about public health until the spring pandemic. But like many media reporters, 2020 plunged her into reporting on the coronavirus.

Readers knew she would look to her as she had reported an outbreak in Leon County since last spring and wrote the first story about vaccine deployment. Most people got her number from her Tallahassee Democrat’s biopage, but she said some people contacted her by word of mouth.

Finally, Davidson-Hiers said he had talked to more than 160 seniors, but a few weeks ago he stopped counting his runs. Her phone started humming around 9am and didn’t go quiet until mid-evening. Last Monday she woke up to 75 text messages.

In one memorable exchange, a reader sent a text message for the help of his 84-year-old mother.

“She said you’re working for a Democrat and people who registered to get the COVID vaccine but haven’t been vaccinated yet. You need to text message / call,” the message reads. It was done. “I am very grateful for any assistance you can provide.”

“When I leave the meeting I’m sitting in, I’ll call her. Thank you,” Davidson-Hiers replied.

Then, after she talked to the woman, the 84-year-old child wrote back: “Thank you for being a reporter during these trials. Salute.”

Davidson-Hiers is not the only journalist to receive such a request. Seattle Times reporter Page Cornwell said last Friday he woke up to twelve voice emails from readers asking for help with the vaccine schedule. She tweeted that digital forms created “a big gap for people suffering from technology.” Other reporters, including the Mississippi Biloxi San Herald Anitaly, say they helped people with book appointments in their community.

In the pre-pandemic era, some journalistic ethicists may have opposed the idea that reporters play such an active role in processes that are usually reserved for public health authorities and hospital staff. not. But unusual situations need it, Davidson-Hiers said.

Her editor feels the same.

“I’ve heard some people have expressed concern that we’re over the limit, but I don’t agree,” said Jim Rosika, news director at Tallahassee Democrat. “We are a private company, but we also have public trust.”

Rosica compared the deployment of the Leon County vaccine last month to the failure to sell Black Friday. As soon as the announcement came up, the health department’s phone was overwhelmed and a line of patients outside the building stretched down the block. He also said he paused during his work to help an 87-year-old man schedule an appointment.

“Reporters have to submit. Editors have to edit and print the story. We don’t allow anything to discourage our mission,” he said. “But at the same time, if you could devote five minutes — and I did, and the CD devoted more — we would serve as a newspaper and as a public trust in the community. To help those who are, we should do it. We are doing it, and as long as people come to us for help, we will continue to do it. “

A flood of demands for help is being sought by Davidson-Hiers. She said last month there was a time when she had to set an alarm to remind her to eat lunch and supper. On a recent phone call with a reporter, she was interrupted several times due to field calls and text messages.

And there are daily pandemic challenges that won’t disappear when she quits her job. She misses the newsroom surrounded by family, friends, and colleagues she respects. For validity, she hangs out with a three-legged cat named Holy Horror, sometimes carefully returns to her hometown on the outskirts of Pensacola to visit her parents and rides a gray mare named Lilliput. It was.

“It’s hard to know the worst days of people throughout this pandemic,” said Davidson Highers. “But no one forces me to wake up every morning to do this. People care about these phones, as they do, as they do. The constant and overwhelming reception gave me great hope. “