‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the cells
No virus was stirring in health care personnel.
Vials were in freezers, carefully arrayed,
For deltoids just waiting for mRNA.
The workers were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of needles danced in their heads;
And Gena with superpowers, and Ash with her grit
Were determined to vaccinate all who’d take it.
With needles in hand, Gena’s brave crew
Injected the vaccine in camera’s view.
Lipid-wrapped magic engulfed by their cells
Gave up the code that would be COVID’s farewell.
Diligent ribosomes translated the code
Producing a protein, a spike that would bode
Ill for that virus when attempting infection
Of workers who took brave Gena’s injection.
For the cell would display on its membrane this spike
For immune cells to know how to put up a fight
When SARS-CoV-2 dare drift from the air
And into the lungs and cause great despair.
A martyr itself, the death of the cell,
With fever or soreness or feeling unwell,
Would signal this vaccine is pulling its weight,
And forming immune cells lying in wait.
A small price to pay, to keep COVID at bay,
And live on to care for our patients each day.