I did a bad thing. Or I almost did.
I would have gone through with it, too, if it hadn’t been for some jerk doing their job in a complete and efficient manner.
One way or another, I ended up on a list that indicated I should get the Covid-19 vaccine. I received an email inviting me to make an appointment for the first of two shots. The potential side effects were included with the number to call in the event of a severe allergic reaction and a warning of people who should not get vaccinated.
While the possibilities of swelling at the injection site, fatigue, body aches and a low grade fever were not something to anticipate with pleasure, it all seemed better than contracting the actual virus or worse yet, spreading it unbeknownst to me, to someone without the ability to fight it, like my baby or sweet Granny.
At first, I was concerned that I didn’t meet the requirements. Then the thought took over that I could return to public without the constant fear of getting and spreading the virus and felt my anxiety drastically decrease. It was like someone just sliced open a big emotional lipoma. I felt the anxiety drain out, thick and clumpy, and was surprised at the emptiness left behind as I had held it in for so long, nearly a year of worry and uncertainty.
Now, I could take back my life. I wanted to be a linejumper. I was going to face my fear that the vaccine had been rushed through the trials and offered to the public prematurely, I was willing to deal with the side effects, and least of all was concerned that I didn’t exactly check all of the boxes for this early vax phase.
It was selfish, I know.
Still, I told my family and friends about my opportunity and encouraged them to sign up as soon as possible, as well. It became my duty to spread the word and get others on board, to sway those who were undecided as a means to end the madness of 2020 instead of letting it, quite literally, infect 2021. I was an unofficial vaccination soldier.
Until I wasn’t.
Apparently, someone was actually reviewing the sign-up forms which required information like name, address and employer. And apparently being self-employed was not an acceptable answer to move forward to the big poke.
My anxiety wasn’t worse or bigger than anyone else’s monsters, it just seemed like the vaccine would offer a bit of breathing room in this world that is otherwise suffocating with massive problems like global warming, political discord and the unchecked pandemic. I saw my chance for a little peace, and I took it.
Needless to say, my appointment was cancelled and here I am, a penitent linejumper to-be, still unvaccinated, and back in queue, just after prisoners and homeless people.