A SHOT IN THE DARK

When I was a teenager waiting for a date meant the prom. Now it’s the coronavirus vaccine.
For the first time in my life, people envy me for being over 75 years old.

CVS Pharmacy was supposed to come to my Senior Residence the first week in January to stick needles into old wrinkly arms, but once the Governor of Arizona was in charge of distribution, he had decided to distribute the responsibility to the county governments. Consequently, I tried to go to the closest hospital’s website to register myself for a shot.

That took several hours because the hospital website had crashed. Finally, when it was supposedly fixed, I called and was told that I was the eighth caller.  I hung up.  Four hours later, I called back and was still the “eighth caller.”

In the meantime, I was able to access the website on my own. It took another hour to register for an appointment. However, everyday and every time was already booked.

To cheer myself up, I went to collect my mail and had lots of fun throwing it all away. Went back on my computer and could not access the hospital website again. Had lunch and then realized that I had missed my fasting blood test for my forthcoming physical exam. Ate dessert and rescheduled.

I learned two things: Scotch is a excellent vaccine for aggravation, and tomorrow is usually another day. Finally, three weeks later I was informed that CVS had received the vaccine and would be at our Senior Residence to inject us all. Hooray!

The CVS shooters came to give me my first shot, but first I had to fill out their paperwork again. For the third time, I informed them that I am still not pregnant.

Done!  Now I am, not so patiently, waiting for the second shot the end of February. Then this masked wonder will go out and help the economy. It’s going to be a grand adventure finding my way around after being sequestered for a year. Parole papers forthcoming.

Esther Blumenfeld