Our Shot At Getting Out Of This. Together.

First dose of two of Pfizer, in less than ten seconds.

On a random Sunday in 2021 about one in the afternoon, I received my first dose of the coronavirus vaccine. I cried a little. I wept. I was so full of gratitude.

Just days before my neighbor called out for me from behind her fence, “Were you able to schedule one? Because I’ve got Summa on the phone and they have openings this Sunday! Here, let me put it on speaker…,” as I suddenly grabbed my mask and booked a slot after unsuccessfully trying for over a month.

Checked in, arrived a few minutes early and stayed in my car the whole time. The entire process from start to finish was less than some fast food drive in lines.

No pain at all into my left arm. I’ve done more damage getting pizza rolls out of the oven.

I wept because I was overwhelmed. I was taken away by emotion I had. Driving out of our neighborhood, seeing strangers again, knowing others were also there to help all of us get back to some sort of life we once had.

And I wept for all those whose lives were so needlessly lost. And the lives we will save now. Doing this part, of so many parts we’ve done these last twelve months — going on thirteen now.

Driving up the hill to the appointment I didn’t see any campaign signs. That’s the last time I’d traveled beyond our neighborhood and the…