When my tier (tears?) of availability came up I was then thrust from observer to participant, and it got real. My husband's school district (a different county) opened up appointments for him and he made his appointment. My eligibility for our county was up in the air. I spent a chunk of frustrating time bouncing around the various means of getting an appointment - the pharmacy and the grocery store options were booked solid, the medical clinics were a bit of a maze to navigate. Friends began telling me what they were able to do, but I always seemed to be one step behind.
After one more morning of attempts, I said "Forget this, I'll get it when I get it" and I decided to put it out of my mind and concentrate on a morning of uninterrupted volunteer work. At noon I saw an email from my supervisor at my school district, with a link to make an appointment. I screamed with joy. Making that appointment, standing in front of my stove in the kitchen, my hands practically shaking as I scrolled through all the appointments that had already been taken, fearing I read the email too late, with my husband peering over my shoulder telling me to keep scrolling down. And then there they were, all the available time slots for a Saturday at one of my districts high schools. I picked a time, got the confirmation and took about 3 screenshots of it to be be sure. And then we danced with joy, we'd be vaccinated in the same week - Moderna for Ernst, Pfizer for me.
Getting that first shot was a glorious day, both weather-wise and joy-producing. When I pulled up to the event I realized what a huge undertaking this was, they vaccinated 2100 people that day. The line was long, but moved fast. I forgot they would be taking temperatures when we walked in and I had a sudden horrible feeling that I'd get kicked out, but no fears, I always run low. I was in! We snaked around, six feet apart, and then before I knew it I was seated and the vaccinators were so sweet and I had the shot while I took a selfie. I didn't even feel it, those have to be the thinnest needles ever.
We celebrated with champagne. It's not like anything I'd ever experienced, receiving a serum injected into my arm that has the ability to save me from a disease I'd never heard of 15 months earlier. I wasn't about to be reckless or maskless or foolish, but it felt like such a game changer. We did it, we did it, we got through it.
The second dose was not nearly as exciting, but we celebrated nonetheless. It was Pi Day, so of course we celebrated with all things round - some vegan personal pizzas, a raw apple tart and a tofu chocolate pie. I figured if I'm going to feel sick as a dog the next day I'd better enjoy my vaccine day to the full. And so I went to bed that night and waited to wake up sick. But I didn't, feel sick that is, I did wake up. Nothing but the slightest soreness in my arm, less than the first dose caused. No day spent in pajamas watching Netflix, no chills, no fever, no aches. I felt a bit left out and wondered what was up with my immune system. Then we found out that 10% of people didn't get a reaction. Welcome to the 10% Jessica, put your clothes on and get on with your day, there is pie to eat!
A few days later my husband got his second. He didn't get a fever or chills either, but was hit with a curtain of fatigue that he said was just like jetlag. A day of dragging and then off to bed early and he woke up almost 100%. So we are done and done and on Sunday I'll be finished and next Wednesday for Ernst - both fully vaccinated.
Then begins the slow transition back to what used to be normal life but that feels nothing like normal now. Having people over to the yard, grocery shopping in a real live store, picking out my own produce, Ernst back teaching in-person instruction, planning our first trip away on a (gasp) plane! Here we come Spring 2021, we are approaching you with baby steps. Very happy baby steps.
