When we heard that there would be a COVID-19 vaccine available early in 2021, my husband and I decided that even with our misgivings, the right thing to do would be to get our shots.
Besides, we missed our extended family, and we knew that the only way we would get to see them would be if we were vaccinated. Even with that incentive, we had concerns about side effects. I should say I had concerns because I’m the one who gets sick after a flu shot.
“You’ll be fine,” said Mr. Tough Guy.
A woman ahead of us in line at the pharmacy told us to massage our arms. She said that had worked for her after the first shot. I felt encouraged. A few hours later, I felt like a million bucks. I came home, ate a snack, went for a 45-minute walk around the neighborhood, and pumped my arms to get that old vaccine flowing through my veins.
About 10 o’clock that night, I started to feel a little achy.
“Maybe you’re just tired from your walk,” suggested the great comforter.
To be on the safe side, I took ibuprofen before I went to bed.
At 1 a.m., I woke up feeling as if I had been trampled by a herd of stampeding buffalo. For the next twelve hours, I drank what seemed like gallons of water, alternating doses of acetaminophen and ibuprofen.
How was my sweet patootie doing?
“I feel great!” he said as he got ready for work.
If my arm hadn’t been so sore, I would have thrown something at him.
Having survived shot No. 1, albeit somewhat uncomfortably, I have to admit that I wasn’t looking forward to more of the same. But we were committed to doing our civic duty.
Iron Man and I set out for round two.
It was deja vu all over again. This time, the misery lasted for 36 long, painful, achy, shivery (OK, I’m laying it on kind of thick here) hours. How was Iron Man holding up?
“My arm is a little sore, but not bad.” He practically chirped as he got ready for work. “Do you want me to stay home and take care of you?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll just lie here and tough it out.” I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that he was out the door before I could finish that sentence.
After he left, I took extra-strength acetaminophen, chugging it down with a cold 7-Up.
I slept for most of the day, oblivious to the world around me and blissfully pain-free, until the meds wore off. This time the buffalo invited a couple of herds from the neighboring county.
All of that said, I’m glad we got the vaccine. Obviously, I survived. An added bonus is we felt really good about it afterward.
Buffalo or no buffalo, it was the right thing to do.