The auditorium was so large the event was using less than half of it. Everything was designed for maximum efficiency. Check in at this table and receive an information sheet; take this card to your assigned table number and roll up your sleeve; answer a few more screening questions, followed by the shot; walk through these blue ropes to the check-out area; get an appointment for your second shot written on your card; then move to the observation chairs to watch for immediate side effects. After 15 minutes or so, one-way walking directions led you out a different entrance than the way you came in, which also happened to be the way to the restrooms.
Everything was well managed by enthusiastic young adults. There were so many masks and gloves and shields and belt barriers and spots marked to stand on and other instructions that it was a cross between being in a sci-fi medical thriller and a How It’s Made assembly line.
One discordant note: All entrances were being monitored by security, and only people with appointments could enter the auditorium. That’s something I hadn’t even realized would be necessary, but of course it is. I won’t speculate publicly about the various thoughts that went through my mind as soon as I noticed the security procedures. Let’s just say I was grateful to be in a blue state in a very blue neighborhood where there was no reason to expect trouble.
One teeny-tiny complaint: Some younger folks got participation stickers and I didn’t get one. I felt left out! When the young man in the observation area asked how I was doing, I turned on my best imitation of a plaintive waif one-tenth my age: “That lady over there got a sticker. I didn’t get a sticker. How come I didn’t get a sticker?” He said, “Oh—you should have gotten a sticker! Of course you can have one,” and he brought it for me right away.
Other than the great sticker snafu, nothing exciting or out of the ordinary happened.
Meanwhile, on the western border of the state, some lucky people had the joyful surprise of hearing Yo Yo Ma celebrate receiving his second shot by playing a 15-minute mini concert, including Ave Maria and the Prelude to Bach Cello Suite #1.
I wish I could think of something encouraging or motivational to say to people expressing vaccine hesitancy. Every now and then I hear of someone I know who is not planning to get vaccinated and I’m at a loss for words. How can I compete with generations of history that justify being wary about the medical system in general?
As for Republicans choosing to stay unvaccinated to “own the libs,” let them be the latest example of drained pool politics. They are actually willing to do without lifesaving treatment to prove their conspiracy theories are right? I won’t stand in their way.
Strangely, even as they refuse to take it, they also keep trying to give Trump credit for the vaccines. They’re also bragging that the Democratic goal of 100 million shots a day was achieved before Biden took office on Jan. 20.
That fact is true, but the Biden administration is still responsible for the common sense distribution plan, moving dose delivery more efficiently and equitably at the state and local level.
Vaccines are no longer sitting in airports and warehouses waiting for instructions that never come. Local officials are no longer able to give vaccination priority to areas that help them politically. Improved distribution and funding for pop-up locations is getting shots to a wider variety of people much faster.
Last Saturday and Sunday we averaged close to 3 million shots per day! I feel good about being a part of that.
So I’ve had my first shot, and it’s a hopeful step into the future. I feel very fortunate to have had no serious side effects. There was just a little soreness at the injection site (uncomfortable to sleep on that side the first night) and a slight headache that was more annoying than painful—I didn’t even bother with Tylenol.
Overall, getting the vaccine gave my mood a much-needed lift. It’s a tangible sign of light at the end of the long pandemic tunnel.
Here are today’s questions one more time:
- Have you been vaccinated?
- If not, what’s your plan?
The DKonversation: Something to talk about is an open thread to hang out, enjoy a virtual beverage, look around, vent, rant, ask questions, whatever. We all need lots of online places to gather like this until we can meet again in person.
You can comment on the topic above, or start a conversation about something completely different.
This is also a good place to ask general questions you have about politics, Democrats, Daily Kos, or anything else on your mind.
Now go to the comment section and get the vaccine roll call started!
Roll call? Did someone say roll call?
If the other song was too silly for you, here’s the rest of Yo Yo Ma.