Earlier this week, I got the call to schedule my vaccine appointment. While I feel like I had waited forever, in truth, it was just last week that eligibility had only opened up for me – under 65, no health conditions or qualifying employment. I had been feeling antsy and impatient, but I had been ready to wait. I had heard through the neighborhood listserv that there was one particular vaccination site in the next county that had plenty of availability, so I switched my site preference on my pre-registration to that site rather than the one in my own county. And actually, when I looked at the map – this other site was actually closer to me than the one in my own county. Then I just waited.
Monday evening, as I was clearing up dinner, I got a phone call. The automated call put me into hold que. Around twenty minutes into waiting, I started to despair, thinking that it had just been a bug and I’d gotten my hopes up. But I stuck it through. (I tend to be the person who stays in their original checkout line at the grocery store even though it is the slowest one.) And after thirty minutes, someone picked up. They had appointments for the next day, and I said, “Yes, Please!” I was booked for both shots right then. I’m really grateful to all the people working the phone lines, scheduling appointments.
My appointment was at a state site. It was a series of large temporary structures set up in a parking lot and run by FEMA, though I also saw people from the Coast Guard there too. There was directional signage and arrows on the floors and friendly knowledgeable people. In fact, it kind of reminded me of the first day of tech in a new space. I was asked for my appointment QR code and ID and then pointed towards a door and sent to another station where I was again asked for my QR code and ID.
And then, to my delight, amidst all the scanning and vetting and iPads and what not, I saw something very familiar: at each station was a pack of green sticky dots and a pack of orange sticky dots.
These are the very same sticky dots that I use to put spot light cues in my score. Seeing these sticky dots delighted me to no end. They are such a staple of my stage management kit that I feel almost possessive of them – silly, I know. But my sticky dots, aside from one or two homeschool/ preschool art projects, have been languishing unused for over a year. It gave me great joy to know that someone somewhere (or many someones) were using sticky dots.
So after asking me questions about allergies and my current health, the nice young man doing my intake put a green sticky dot on me. I guess it meant that I was low risk for immediate side effects.
I moved on to the next station, where I rolled up my sleeve and very nice person jabbed me in the arm, handed me a vaccination card and I was then directed into yet another tent.
Here in this tent, I sat with all the other green dots on the left side of the room, where there were rows of chairs spaced six feet apart. I was told to have a seat and wait for fifteen minutes before I could leave.
So I chose a seat and sat there, six feet from my fellow vaccinated. Kind of like the graveyard scene in Our Town.
The white canopy of the tent made for a soft, diffuse natural light filled space – all bright and airy. It was the most well lit and quiet place I had been in a long time.
I might have stayed for more than fifteen minutes.
The Husband texted: Are you coming home?
I replied: I don’t know. It’s quiet and well-lit here.
–I have a 2pm meeting
–Fine, okay.
I’m already looking forward to my second shot.
