When the University of Oregon opened registration for its COVID-19 vaccine clinics to students and employees a month ago, I jumped at the chance.
The first clinic was set to run from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. on April 21 — just two days after all Oregonians over 16 became eligible for the vaccine — with other clinics through the rest of April. I signed up for the afternoon of April 22. The website let me schedule a second dose for three weeks after, through UO’s clinic — coming up this week and the recommended wait time for the Pfizer vaccine.
UO spokesperson Saul Hubbard said the university had the capacity to vaccinate 4,600 people across its four days of clinics. The majority of these doses went to students, as many faculty members were eligible for the vaccine earlier and pursued other opportunities, he said.
The university’s vaccine allotment does not come out of Lane County’s doses and will not limit vaccine ability for those outside of the UO community, according to UO’s COVID-19 vaccine page.
“It was exciting and relieving to know there was a vaccine,” UO Ph.D. student and graduate employee Ronja Behrends said. “Experiencing how easy and efficient it was was wonderful.”
Behrends drove through her vaccine appointment, but I’d say “easy and efficient” is a pretty accurate description for my own on-foot experience. And if driving, biking or walking to Autzen Stadium isn’t an option, Duck Rides is offering anyone with a confirmed appointment free shuttle service from 13th and University to Autzen Stadium’s parking lot.
My confirmation email included a consent form in English and Spanish, which I printed and filled out before biking to Autzen. From there, it was relatively straightforward. I stood in a line, showed one of the students working at the clinic my health insurance card — something UO doesn’t require, but asks patients to bring if they have it — and got my COVID-19 vaccine card.
From there, it was maybe a three-minute wait under the tents — not a huge deal to begin with, but made infinitely better by the fragments of bagpipe music that were probably coming from someone’s car.
When it was my turn, the pharmacist offered me a sticker, gave me a shot and sent me to sit in a section of socially distanced folding chairs for 15 minutes. And then I was good to go.
Behrends said her own experience was almost anticlimactic, contrasting with the vaccine’s larger implications. “It feels like a very important and pivotal turning point in terms of where we were and where we’ve come,” she said.
For example, when UO began offering COVID-19 testing, Hubbard said the university is prioritizing its students and staff in its vaccine clinics. “However,” he said, “if we have leftover doses next week as our clinics are concluding, we may invite the broader Lane County community — on a first-come, first-serve basis — to ensure no doses go to waste.” The May clinics are for those who received their first Pfizer shot, according to UO’s vaccine website.
Hubbard said the university is doing outreach to ensure all of its students know they have the option and is strongly encouraging members of the UO community to get vaccinated — as the university will require the vaccine for students next year.
