Words fail, there’s nothing else to talk about.
The shot. That’s it.
A few tidbits from the COVID-19 vaccine front lines. No, not front lines because I’m not at the front yet. From the sidelines, then:
On Facebook friends are mentioning that they got their shots. There is a quality of brag in some of these mentions, a tone of “I got my shot FIRST (and you didn’t — hahahaha).” Followed by a brief description of “It was SO easy, I didn’t have to wait, blah blah blah.”
Well, OK, but while I am pointing out the one-upsmanship attitude, I do not take it personally, nor do I take it as a challenge, or put-down. After some time spent online, I was emailed a sort of invitation –not exactly an e-vite; it didn’t have balloons — to make an appointment at a facility attached to the medical center where most of my MDs practice. My appointment is for February 22, and that is fine with me. I’m quite relaxed about it. My immediate life will not change while I wait for the shot, nor will it change much after the shot(s). It’ll still be masks and hand-washing and 6 feet of distance, until we’re told the virus is pretty much wiped out.
Last night, my brother, who had made an appointment for early March, called to say he’d just been contacted by the medical center at which he had his appointment. What they had to say was, “There are shots available right now at the Armory near you. If you can get there in a half hour, do so.”
He got there, and got his first shot. I did a modified form of cheering which did not require that I rise from my desk chair and jump around.
To me, this means the vaccine is finally flowing into the city. As it flows, I have hope the conversation will flow, too, in a few other directions. There must be something to talk about.