Researcher as research subject: Volunteering for an H5 avian influenza vaccine trial

Last Thursday morning, I rolled up my sleeve for a vaccine—or maybe it was just saline. I’ll probably never know. I'm volunteering in an H5N1 (avian bird flu) clinical trial, and as you'd probably guess, I couldn't be more excited about it.

The study has two parts. One is an “open-label” trial, meaning both participants and researchers know exactly what's being administered. That part received a “traditional” type of bird flu vaccine, based on killed virus grown in chicken eggs that has been used in annual flu vaccines for decades.

I wasn't randomized into the open-label. Instead, I landed in the double-blind placebo-controlled trial (double blind because neither participants nor the clinic’s researchers know what's given) testing an mRNA vaccine for bird flu. For this study, they randomize participants into the mRNA vaccine or a placebo injection, like saline. With 2:1 randomization of mRNA to placebo, the odds favored me getting the actual vaccine. So, on Thursday, I showed up:

Waiting for my jab at the research study center located in an old brick building.

If I look a bit worried in the photo, it is about the background of unreinforced masonry in a seismic zone, not concerns about the vaccine. Epidemiologists see risk everywhere, though not necessarily where others expect us to!

Of course, there's some risk in testing new vaccines—that’s precisely why we do trials: to identify any issues before rolling out millions of doses. Still, after numerous flu vaccines and plenty of mRNA shots, I'm comfortable betting these two approaches (flu vaccines + mRNA delivery) will be even better together, carrying minimal (though not zero) risk. To receive FDA approval, every medication or vaccine goes through testing—determining not only that it works but also that it does so without creating any concerning signals about safety.

After downloading the study app and a quick exam with a study physician, I got my jab and waited half an hour to the minute, see sticker below:

The 30-minute wait after receiving a dose (of something)

Lastly, I was sent home with instructions to use the app to record my reactions, a thermometer, and a special “ruler” for measuring injection site redness. The app pinged me throughout the day and has every day since:

One of several questions I answer daily

Any injection site pain? Redness? Fatigue? Fever? No, no, no, no. I suspect that I got the placebo, or perhaps they are gently easing into dosing. Unless there is a bird flu pandemic (in which case they will unblind me), I will probably never know. But even if it turns out to be saline, I'll brave that shaky masonry several more times for blood draws and a second "dose" because I believe in the scientific process used to test medications and vaccines. Whenever the next pandemic arrives, I’ll feel good knowing I didn’t just trust in vaccine research—I helped advance it.

*This study is being sponsored by a pharmaceutical manufacturer, but not by Moderna, whose bird flu vaccine work was canceled by HHS.