Day 393

I am vaccinated, but unlike so many other people posting on Facebook and other platforms, there is no joy in it for me. I can’t even claim to feel relieved. My shot comes two days shy of the one year anniversary of Dad’s death. Instead of thinking about what this vaccine will mean for me, all I can think about is that it came way too late for my father. The virus killed him before science figured out a way to beat it. Friends are posting pictures of the hugs they’re finally getting, the reunions with people they haven’t seen in over a year. But the only hug I want, I’ll never get. I won’t have a reunion. All I have is a sore arm and a slight bout of nausea.

Of the three available vaccines, Johnson and Johnson was the one I did not want. But I’ve been trying to get an appointment for a month and I hadn’t had any luck until Friday when we were driving home from Spring Break. I found an available appointment at a Walgreens up in Paterson. Sure I could have gotten Pfizer or Moderna but that would have required me to drive two hours, and I sure as hell wasn’t driving that far — twice — just to get a shot. It’s not like Paterson is close, but it’s a much quicker drive than Atlantic City or the other half dozen places that others had recommended to me. Nor was I keen on going to a megasite. From what I’d read, the process at the pharmacies is much smoother and shorter. To complicate matters, there is a Johnson and Johnson shortage which means New Jersey will be receiving significantly fewer vaccinations than expected this month. This, combined with the fact that Murphy — despite the shortage — is still opening up vaccines to everyone next week, means that getting an appointment for the vaccine of my choice would have been nearly impossible. I wasn’t up for the headache or spending countless more hours online searching. So I figured I might as well get it over with even though J&J isn’t as effective as the other options. (And don’t tell me it’s just as good. Yes, it’s 100% effective in preventing death and hospitalization but only 66% effective in preventing infection. That’s really not good enough for me. Remember, I neither died nor ended up in the hospital last time, but my lungs still haven’t recovered.)

The process was quick an easy. I certainly have no complaints. I arrived early and I didn’t have to wait at all. They took me immediately. The woman who gave me the shot was super nice and friendly. She did warn me that I will probably feel sick tomorrow — headache, fever, chills. Great! Nothing like having flashbacks to my COVID days the day before Dad’s funeral.

Even though I really didn’t want the J&J vaccine, I will force myself to focus on the positive — I don’t have to go back for a second shot. One and done. This is good because I’m never sure when I’m going to be here or in New York, and since I’m homeschooling my son, I don’t have to worry about scheduling something around my son’s schedule. 

My spouse was teaching from home today — her school is virtual all week — which meant I didn’t have to worry about dragging my son with me. This morning, I worked with him on the subjects he needed hands on attention with, and then I left him a list of assignments he could complete on his own — including math which is my spouse’s department anyway. 

Now, if only they would hurry up and get a vaccine approved for kids I’d be happy. Even though I’m vaccinated, I won’t be able to go anywhere or do anything different since my son remains unvaccinated. Hopefully, they’ll have something for him before school starts in September, although a vaccine before summer would definitely be preferable. If nothing else it would give me peace of mind when we went on vacation. Although we plan to sleep in a tent and avoid people, it would still make eating a tad bit easier. If the vaccine isn’t available by the time school starts up again, we may have to begin the year as we spent this one. I wouldn’t mind extending the homeschool curriculum. I don’t think my son would mind either. But he does miss having friends. There is also taekwondo to consider. While virtual tournaments are better than nothing, they sure don’t beat in-person tournaments. And those crowds could be deadly for those not vaccinated.

On the way home from Paterson, I stopped at the photo store to pick up prints of Dad for the funeral. Mom had asked me to prepare pictures of Dad to display. It was an easy task considering I’ve been photoshopping pictures of him all year for various memorials, essays, and posts. Still, it was sad to comb through them, remembering all the fun times we had and being reminded, yet again, that we’ll never do anything together ever again. When I got home, my spouse gave me professional pictures of my parents from our wedding that I had completely forgotten about. Neither one of them had gone to their prom, and at our wedding — or rather our reception, which was the month after our wedding — Dad had commented that he finally got a prom picture. I’ll give the pictures to Mom on Wednesday when I see her. I think she’d like to have them.

On a side note, I should not have Zoomed in to taekwondo class this evening. My arm is in agony. I’ve had many vaccinations throughout my life and none of them — not even when I got two at a time in the same arm — did it ever hurt this much. I moved in slow motion and held my breath in an attempt to stifle the pain — it didn’t work. Now it hurts so much I’m even struggling to type.

I must add that it is now morning and the pain in my arm is the sharpest most acute pain I have ever felt. Breaking bones hurt less.