When I got my first COVID-19 vaccination, I danced. The golden ticket brought me one step closer to visiting my favorite restaurants, coffee shops and seeing friends again. Yesterday, I sat in the chair for my second jab. I have to wait two more weeks and will still mask up until the majority of us get vaccinated, and we reach herd immunity. Then we will all breathe easier, literally. So how did it go?
I had no reaction to the first vaccination but thought the second might kick my butt, so I worked hard in the morning. I’ve heard the stories — the nightmarish fevers, the painful injection sites, the exhaustion. My ninety-one-year-old mother arrives from Wisconsin today. Would I be up to driving?
Last time, I arrived at Walgreens waaaaaay too early. I had to wait for the scheduled appointment before me. Yesterday, I shopped for a few items, including another anti-aging product. The tape works, by the way.
This time, when I finally lined up for my vaccination, two people stood in front of me. Two. “Are you scheduled for 12:45?” I asked.
“12:30,” said a woman first in line.
The boy ahead of me said, “12:45.”
Huh. The same time as my appointment. Did I have the wrong date? I checked the confirmation on my phone. Nope. What if he had the wrong date? What if he was weaseling an appointment? What if they ran out of vaccines? Ridiculous. They probably gave people shots until closing.
We each checked in with the pharmacist and took a seat.
Juggling various items in my sweaty hands, I left to pay and get a bag. When I returned, they had already received their shots and were sitting for the prescribed fifteen minutes in case of a reaction.
As soon as I settled into my chair, the pharmacist called my name. I followed him into the small room as he asked, “Which arm?”
“Left.” I rolled up my sleeve. “I had the same appointment time as someone else.”
“Yes. We’re doubling them, now.”
He told me to take a deep breath. The shot stung. I never feel shots. I swear he twisted the needle when it went into my arm. I figured by nightfall, I wouldn’t be able to lift it. I imagined a gargantuan bruise at the injection site.
Afterward, I kept expecting the proverbial Mack Truck to hit me. I would go straight to bed. Nope. Instead of being tired, I was WIRED! I wrote until 6:00. Still no soreness.
My husband, Danny, and I watched a few episodes of The Kominsky Method, which is hilarious. I rose from the couch and stretched. Still no soreness, and I stayed up for another hour to read. Wow.
Surely by this morning, my brain would fill with bricks, and my arm would swell. NOTHING! I only feel a small tenderness if I rub it — no brain fog. No fever. Nothing.
I was double-vacced with Pfizer. My husband, Danny, had two of the Moderna shots and didn’t react either. My mom rocked her Pfizer vaccines. BUT, my daughter, Courtney, who is twenty-nine years old, had a fever the day after her second shot. Staying out of the hospital with COVID like a friend of hers is worth one day of feeling out of it.
The moral of this story?
Don’t be afraid. GET VACCINATED!
With fewer of us to infect, the virus will DIE back. Death to COVID-19 means a lot more dancing!
Are you looking forward to being vaccinated? Have you gotten a shot or a jab? Have you come out of isolation?