Since my state opened vaccinations for all elderly folks, I spent nearly every Friday for two months trying to get my 72 year old mother a dose of the COVID vaccine. She doesn’t have a computer (thank God! or I’d be there repairing it constantly) and I have medical power of attorney so I had to book her appointments. But every time I’d log on looking for appointments, there wouldn’t be any in my town. After weeks of this, I learned of a clinic near her apartment who were doing walk-ins: I told her and her caregiver about it, they went down, and she got her first dose. That was two weeks ago. She gets her second dose in early April.
And on Monday, I got notification from the state that I was eligible. So, I went online to book an appointment. I expected the same dismal results as before but what I found instead were nothing but open appointments. So, I booked for the next morning at 8am.
When I arrived at the vaccination site there were lines out the door. It reminded me of my old Army days when we were expected to line up for everything, and then wait for hours.
But as soon as I got out of the car, there was a helpful young man who organized us into two lines: 8:00 and 8:15. I don’t think my Drill Sergeant would have been nearly as helpful.
I got into the 8am line and soon we were moving. The guy organizing everything took a look at my DEVO mask (which is just cloth) and told me I needed to also, or instead of, put on one of the blue surgical masks he had with him. So I doubled up. And again, we moved forward.
I’ve not seen many things this well organized in my life. Even the military, maybe especially the military, where we were strictly regimented was always a case of “hurry up and wait”. But here in the clinic they had a smart system, one which batched processing but did so in an efficient manner. With rows of chairs, gated admissions, multiple staff guiding folks, laminated questionnaires, computerized checkin and asset management you could almost see the intentional thought and design behind the process. This wasn’t something which had grown organically like most supply chains, but was planned from start to finish, with gradual improvement baked in to each step. This was modern, friendly, scientific efficiency.
Six of us were let into the first area, reception. We were quickly checked in and separated into groups of first shot and second shot. We were then handed some papers, told to read the questionnaire about potential allergic reactions (make sure you read this, the nurse will ask you about it in a minute), and told to go sit in a row of chairs. While we waited I read through the list of questions: no to everything, including whether I am a breastfeeding mother. Another nurse told us to move up a row of chairs. And a minute or two later, we moved again, this time into the shot room.
You don’t see it until the end but they have six nurses deploying the pfizer shots at six stations, and on the other side of the room, six nurses deploying the moderna shots. People who were getting their first shot were on one side of the room, people getting their second shot, the other side of the room. My cohort were all on the pfizer side, the row behind us were all on the Moderna side. That means that they’ve planned this at a multi-week level: when one group gets the first dose, the other group gets the second dose. But they’ve also needed to bake in some flexibility because not every person books their second appointment exactly two weeks after the first.
Within seconds, the nurse called for next and that was me. She was cheerful, reflecting the atmosphere in the room. Everyone, bar one cranky old man who must be cranky all the time, was smiling under their masks. It wasn’t the carnival atmosphere of a cup final at Wembley but there was a tense ebullience as everyone was just sort of “popping”: people were talking in quick bursts with laughter usually at the end, the pregnant lady in front of me whipped out her cell phone to get a picture of her getting the shot, the guy who had been seated next to me complimented my hat. I told the nurse that they are doing a wonderful job of organizing all this and she thanked me and then she jabbed me.
I’ve had a lot of vaccines in my life. The most memorable were the jet injectors they used when I entered the army. We all stood in line with our shirts off and one-by-one, moved forward where a guy (was he even a nurse?) held this big thing that looked like a Star Trek phaser hooked to an air hose. When I got to the station, he pressed the gun against my arm as hard as he could and with a big pop – like a pneumatic drill – injected us with lord knows what.
Hospitals stopped using jet injectors in the 80’s (the military stopped in the 90s) because they found that they could accidentally transmit Hep C, especially when vaccinating thousands of people in a single day. These things also sometimes left a scar, mine did, about the size of a dime.
Back in 2021, after the shot, I was told to go sit in the observation room for 15 minutes. The big cranky dude who was in my group lasted 2 minutes before he got up and left. The observer at the front of the room didn’t stop him, nor would I have: he was 6’8″ and clearly “not having none of it.” I think he sort of smiled at the observer and she sort of smiled back: their cheeks both rose, their eyes glinted but I couldn’t tell if they were both doing that pained smile, a grimace, or if they were genuinely happy. Masks are wonderful at helping us all hide our emotions just a little, helping to grease the social skids just a little bit more than normal. Long live masks.
I wondered why he was even there and my guess is his work required it. Would he return for the second dose? I’m guessing again, that his work would require it. And he would begrudgingly do what needed to be done. All the while huffing and puffing about how put out he was.
I waited the full 15 minutes, almost in spite of cranky old man. I was fine. I got in the car and before I drove away, I saw two more groups lined up: 8:30 and 8:45. It would go like that nearly all day.
The rest of the day was normal, though I have noticed a few side effects.
Side effects of the first dose of the COVID vaccine:
- sore arm (worse than flu)
- slightly tired (could be the seasonal allergies)
- dry mouth (see also, allergies)
- a feeling like I’ve unclenched my fist for the first time in a year
- when I posted a picture of my card I got more likes on Instagram than I ever get from even the best pizza picture, which isn’t fair because I work damn hard on those pizzas
- feeling like we might just get through this
- a love of science and of thoughtful organization
- deep connection to and respect for the humans who managed to get this vaccine from idea to my arm in record time
- can’t stop thinking about waffles
- desire to eat chicken and waffles on a date
- WAFFLES!
- Seriously, though, I made my daughter waffles for breakfast the next day
- disbelief and frustration that so many of our governments let so many people needlessly die (and will let countless more die) and that misinformation and obstinance will kill many more as they refuse to get vaccinated
- wondering why I could get this shot for free but the rest of my healthcare is so ridiculously expensive
With Washington’s abundance of appointments available, and California and Florida opening vaccinations to all adults, I expect that many, many of you will be eligible for the vaccine soon. If you can, please get it. Not so much for yourself but think about the folks who are immunocompromised or otherwise can’t get the vaccine, or the people who are front line workers in the food and service industries who aren’t eligible yet. And maybe even get the vaccine for the folks who believe that the vaccine is mind control and that the virus is fake. You could save their lives.
I come hear for the football, then find such wonderful writing!! Thanks Tim.
I also got my first shot dose this morning, a slight temperature is all I have felt all day. Go and get that jab guys!
Thanks for the post Tim. I finished the second dose on Feb 11. I had the Moderna vaccine and had a mild sore arm after the first dose. As expected I had a mild systemic reaction with the second dose including generalized malaise for about 1 1/2 days and a short lived low grade fever. I know a few other people who had similar reactions but I have not heard of any significant issues. Hopefully we can start the world moving towards something closer to normal as more and more people get vaccinated.
Hey Bill! Glad to hear you got the vaccine and your report on the symptoms from the 2nd jab. I plan to take the day off from work after my 2nd. Just because.
I wonder what “normal” will look like in the future?
Interesting Bill, my much better half and I also had the Moderna type (Mar 11) and go back for the second jab in roughly 10 days. We were down, fatigued, with full-body muscle pain for two days. We timed it on a Thursday, took Friday off with a weekend to ensure by Monday we’d be in a state to work. Thinking the second jab might lay us even lower. Will try to time it the same way– hopefully.
We’re in Houston (Harris County) TX. Organization and regimentation are quite efficient as well Tim. Here they’ve setup at both pro and high school football stadium parking lots. At the entrance, we showed a QR code on our cellphones. Then followed a snaking traffic cone queue to the tented drive-through stations. The HS stadium where we received ours had 15 lanes– maybe 6-8 vehicles in any lane while there. We were assigned a lane and time slots 3 minutes apart. We received ours in our vehicle. Got a handwritten card for proof of vaccination– to show for the second. Our first jab certificates arrived via SMS the next morning.
ha! i remember those jet injectors. you’re absolutely right; we hadn’t a clue what they were injecting in us…and we all got tons of shots back then. but you know, i never got sick…except from a flu shot back in ’06; i was laid up, sick as a dog on christmas eve, then a week later on new years eve. i have a scar on my left deltoid from a jet injection (is that what they’re actually called?). it grows a single hair about an inch in length probably every year. i’ll pluck it with tweezers and one day, i’ll look down and it would have returned; probably in single day, lol.
i get the second moderna injection next week. apparently, the second is when people have the worst reaction. my daughter got the j&j about two weeks ago and she was pretty miserable for about 5 days. she actually had covid last summer; a knuckle head going to parties. i guess the reactions are non-specific. i hope everyone does the right thing and gets vaccinated for all of the reasons you’ve mentioned.
ha! I also have a weird hair that I have to pluck and which I only notice after it is already several inches long.
Bodies are strange!
Tim
Everyone is different and but my reaction to the second dose of moderna is fairly typical based what I have heard from several others. Scheduling a day off from work is is good idea if you can do it.
Who knows what the new “normal” will look like. I certainly don’t want to be wearing masks and avoiding close human contact with everyone who is not my wife for the rest of my life. I hope the local small businesses such as restaurants and movie theaters and even the local pubs and bars can get back to operating at full capacity. However, I also hope that everyone is more careful with hand washing and general sanitation etc.
I agree with you Tim on taking the vaccine and today I took my first step towards doing so.
I am a person who has had a deep fear of anything that penetrates my skin ever since I got stabbed when I was young. I have had serious fights with my parents and teachers at school where I just plainly declined any vaccines or injections for whatever else. I cant even be in the kitchen or within close distance of anyone who is working with a sharp knife. it not even a fear of the objects, just that I don’t feel comfortable around such objects in the hands of anyone else, unfortunately even my fiancee.
She has been incredibly understanding though and because I love her, I want her to be as safe as possible. So two weeks ago I agreed to donate blood with my her, and have been trying to ignore today as much as possible. But I did it, and it F*CKING HURT, and was one of the scariest things I have ever done. I could not even look at my arm until I got out of the building.
I do not know if I am over my fear, but in taking this first step, I hope to go again in 56 days (apparently that’s how long you have to wait). I also hope that by the time the vaccine gets to me, I will not have a fear of the needle. Or at least be able to take it.
Good luck Devlin, overcoming fear like that is a major deal
Your blood donation hurt because you were likely twitching. Naturally the initial jab hurts then it is there and you will not notice anything much unless you notice it and start twitching. Then it hurts. Just stay relaxed after the jab and you will feel like a professional vaccinee 😇, with no hurt feelings.
Best wishes Pal
Wow, Devlin. This is such an evocative story. I can empathise with you. Sorry man.. I applaud your resolve to overcome the trauma you suffered and especially through such a noble method.
The vaccine injection, I hardly knew occurred. Both my better half and I are needle-phobic. We can’t bear to see one injected, even on TV.
Also, a veteran of 8 years of monthly infusions that lasted 2-3 hours most times. It’s not an easy thing to overcome. Fortunate that pharma has come some way in the past several years. My meds are now available in oral form.
I’d also had a ton of skepticism concerning the disinformation that came out of the former U.S. administration– so it’s taken some time to come to grips with getting ours.
Stay strong. This will be to your benefit– and others too.
i understand your fears, devlin. my daughter has what we thought was an intense fear of needles. with time, it proved more specific; a fear of anything being introduced to her body via needle injection. blood draws or tattoos, she’s fine. however, iv’s or vaccinations has lead to a lifetime of screaming, hold her down, high drama…quite embarrassing. even prepping to receive the covid vaccine a few weeks ago, this 25-year old “lifetime daredevil” called me when she left her apartment and talked to me continually up to the moment she had to put her phone down and get the shot…you can imagine why she called daddy.
to call it a fear is an understatement; i have never experienced such a sensation…and i’ve jumped out of airplanes, been shot at, and had an aircraft malfunction in flight. with that, i can say that i have no desire to be in the vicinity of snakes or a prison inmate. if you come up with sound coping techniques, do share. i’m sure it would prove quite lucrative.
To tell the truth, most of what I overcome or cope with, I can’t explain. Is that wierd?
What I can say is that I understood people more because of this fear/phobia or what ever it is. What used to happen was that there would be times where my masculonity would be questioned because I did not want anything to do with needles, whilst there were people younger than me that would easily go through with stuff like that.
Because I never told anyone, nobody knew what I was going through. And since It happened when I was so young, its hard to not let it dictate your behaviour. But in dealing with it, I saw was how shame is an easier motivational tool than actually inspiring someone to do something, and its one of the most taken routes when people engage in dialouge. Instead of getting to find out what brings this fear about and working from there, shame was most people’s best way to work things out with me, even doctors.
I do acknowledge that I was wrong to keep what happened to myself, but in seeing the way that I was pushed and shamed, I took lessons from that and started applying them in how I interact with people, especially footballers. A lot of people go through traumatizing things which they keep to themselves, and when they look for someone to open up to, they face shame in the way I did and most, in this social media age, face even worse. Young footballers can carry such trauma throughout their careers and it sometimes dictates their interactions with teammates, technical stuff and even fans.
My lessons are more from how I was treated and trying to learn from such experiences so that I can be better for everyone else facing something similar. I try to be as understanding as possible, as honest (very important) as possible and as supportive as I can be. That is why I rarely attack players for their personalities or even go hard at them.
That is how I would advice anyone to treat a close one who is dealing with such fears. Do not let them run from such fears, help them overcome them. Just like Bruce Lee once said, “Do not pray for an easy life, pray for the strength to endure a difficult one”. That is what my Fiancee did for me, helped me to at least try this (F*CKING INSANE IDEA, sorry) blood donating thing as a way of overcoming my fears by saving lives.
Devin,
You have my admiration. Not just for telling your amazing story but doing it in such an articulate and interesting way. You’we conquering something that you’ve live with a long time. Good on you, mate.
Well done dude!
My mother was a dialysis patient for 23 years. In the last decade, she broke her hip when one of our dogs pulled her chasing a cat, she survived colon cancer in 2015, had a heart operation in 2018 years and broke her shoulder in 2019. Life was not fair to her and she took it all with a smile, but when the pandemic exploded, we knew we had to keep her as safe as possible.
We stopped going to my parents house for our weekend lunches, and for a straight year she saw my and my sister’s kids grow up on Whatsupp.
In February, she got ill and tested positive. Almost immediately, we found out that she contracted the virus from the medical personnel where she had to go for her dialysis. Apparently, they threw a party and 32 of them got infected at the same time, hiding that from the public.
Soon afterwards, my father also tested positive and my mom passed away 9 or 10 days after the first symptoms. The day she died, I went to my father who was quarantined and spending days with fever alone in an apartment where he lived with my mother for the last 50 years. We hugged, both crying. Several days later, I was also positive. Two days after that, my wife, 9 year old son and 3 year old daughter all developed symptoms and were positive with Covid-19.
This has been one of the hardest periods in my life, coming after a year spent in my apartment, breaking down while trying to manage both work and family in the same time in the same living room, which was and still is practically impossible.
This weekend, the vaccines arrived. Our government was bragging in December how they will have them in a matter of weeks. They arrived almost in April, a month and a half too late.
I’m sorry both for the long post and for the content, but I’m spending the last days surrounded by people celebrating what should be the beginning of the end of this shitstorm we have been living in, and all I could think about is what would have happened if the vaccines arrived just two months earlier.
I don’t know you personally but I’m very sorry that you lost your mother. Wishing you and your family health and strength to get through all this turmoil we are living right now. I hope the light starts shining through a little brighter every day
Teampossible words fail, so sorry.
I was thinking a while ago that the end of Covid will be very hard for many of us. I think there might be a confrontation coming between those who just want to move on, get back to normal and celebrate the end of restrictions, and the rest of us who need to mourn and pick ourselves back up, who need to make sure that there is some kind of accountability and that lessons have been learned from all the devastating mistakes that were made.
that’s super-heavy, brother…so sorry to hear it. it is an absolute shame that there wasn’t a big enough conviction by the folks in power last year to take care of people they’re responsible for ahead of looking out for their political agendas. these are real people’s who’s lives are lost because of negligence and egoism. it’s equally despicable to see that the people who are responsible for taking care of your mother caused further harm to her.
while i know it doesn’t help your situation, hopefully the push by the new administration will take swift and decisive action that prevent countless others from experiencing the same fate that you and so many other’s have.
big up to tim for providing a platform that not only serves as an arsenal blog but a SAFE SPACE for the fellowship here to share personal experiences without being shamed.
Sorry to hear that man. It’s a heartbreaking story. Wish you all the best for the future.
Teampossible, you’ve gone through the impossible. RIP, Mom and I’m so sorry that she and hers had to go through this. Peace, brother.
Teampossible, your experience is really heavy. I hope you can gather enough strength to push through past this whole pandemic safely as a family.
Stay strong.
Thanks for all the replies, guys. In a time where I feel like I’m about to crack, writing what I wrote and letting it out of me kind of helped a bit.
Hope to see you continue to comment, about life or football. Cracking up is OK also. Whatever you need to do, you can do it here.
it’s alright, bro. tim has provided us a safe space.
I don’t read Untold Arsenal very much but they have done a calculation on making top 6 and Europa League. Short version – it’s tough, but if Arsenal, Spurs, Liverpool and Everton all continue current runs of form we could overtake them.
Post Christmas we have gained points at almost double the rate of pre-Christmas. That includes a fairly tough run of fixtures, and our run-in from here is easier. It also includes “6-pointer” games against both Liverpool and Everton.
However, all it takes is for one of those three teams to recover their form, or for us to dip, and we are out of Europe. Any rational reading of the odds has to put success at a low probability.
I’m only just realising that it will feel very strange next season if we don’t have any European football.