Today I received a third Covid-19 vaccination. Hard to believe it’s been more than six months since my second shot.
Yes, I know, much of the world hasn’t received a first shot, but I was summoned to the local rural public health offices, where I found uniformed medics from the US Army administering the vaccine. My refusal to keep the appointment would not have gotten the unvaccinated around the world any closer vaccination. I acknowledge my privilege: I am grateful for rural health clinics. I am lucky to live in a state with a governor who not only has a background in public health, but who, for over two years, has dedicated significant state resources to supporting strategies to mitigate the spread of the virus.
I stood in line, masked and adequately social distanced of course, with a dozen or so older or at-risk individuals. The process was efficient and sensible - just what one would expect from a military operation.
I hardly felt a thing when the needle went in. After the requisite 15 minute post inoculation observation period, I was free to go.
As a planned recovery strategy, I treated myself to a hotsprings soak at the Pelican Spa . All the rooms were available. I picked the yellow.
Feeling lucky. And also a tad headachy.