My husband called from work after receiving an email for his position as part of Tier IB. My friend had her appointment set a couple of weeks before. Our state was moving along pretty quickly.

When I joined the line at our providers- there seemed to be a clear demarcation in clientele. Arriving about 2 pm, the number of people ahead of me seemed to be a mix of older individuals, age 65 and up and then behind us started the line of teachers. Teachers as a group seem to have their own look- reasonably well-dressed but not in high dollar professional clothing (no need to wonder why- salaries for educators lag other professions), id badges, with a slight frumpy but controlled presentation and today, a cross between fear, relief, and anticipation on their faces. Listening to the murmurs and conversations around me, there was excitement. The educators wanted to go back to work and were excited to be in line. So excited, that when one was given his follow up appointment later and found out he could drive further for an earlier date, he asked to change locations.

My provider did a fantastic job of herding the not so extensive crowd. Security personnel mentioned the line had been longer earlier. First, there was the line for screening- after answering the questions and getting temperature check, we got sticker dots. Then, there was the 4-6 people per gateway. We took the elevators in pairs to maintain the distance. Once on the shot clinic floor, we were given our documents, a shot card, registration sheet, and five pages of warnings, instructions and monitoring information. This time, seats were available on both sides of the hallway, one for HMO members, the other for COVID-19 vaccine eligible non-members. There was one person. A staff member collected our sheets and ushered us into another hallway with more seats spread the requisite six feet. I sat across from the most encouraging sign ever. It read, “it’s a beautiful day for a vaccine.” And it was.

It was my turn. I went into a patient room, divided by a cloth screen into two stations. I pulled up my sleeve, answered the distraction questions from the hospital personnel, got my Band-aid and headed out to the appointment line. And, if the experience could not get better, my appointment date was at the earliest return date I could get! I was scheduled for return at the edge of the minimum window- a mere 21 days later. The scheduling was so fast, I was sent to spend my remaining 4 minutes of monitoring time sitting in another chair.

I registered for the monitoring website which was actually harder than the shot itself, waited an extra 5 minutes and escorted myself out.

When I got to the car, I felt a bit of tingling in my hand and my lips. It passed, but I will make sure I am careful to monitor with the second shot. Just to be sure nothing got worse, I sat in my car for another 10 minutes making a few phone calls.

I can not describe the sheer relief I felt in knowing that I was soon to be protected. One month from now, the likelihood that I can experience full blown COVID -19 will be significantly diminished. I wish my Mother in Delaware could have felt the same sense of security that washed over me. Alas, some states are still in Tier 1A. My mother is in her mid-80’s, reasonably healthy but with a lung condition. Her call to her doctor provided no useful information, just an interesting misunderstanding when she showed and they offered her a flu shot.

My sibling is in the same dilemma as my mother. However, being younger than me, she is resigned to waiting for several more months before she even gets a chance to get into line. Clearly, she said, if Apple can distribute millions of iPhone 12s, our governments need better logisitics consultants. Maybe we do need National Guard support.

As for what I felt like afterwards, well, my shoulder is tender and sore. I didn’t sleep on that side much. I’m a bit tired today, but I was tired anyway- so who knows. But when your time comes, make sure you take- Your Shot!