Last week I got word that clergy were able to schedule an appointment to get the CoVid-19 vaccine. I’d already registered, and NJ was entering the window for group 1B, so I figured I’d demonstrate patience and wait my turn. Then I had friends from both inside and outside the church poke me with a stick and say, “Are you stupid? Make an appointment, people need to see you getting that vaccine.”
I don’t see myself as a “public figure,” because I’m not sure why anyone would take any sort of lead from an idiot like me 1. I understand this is imposter syndrome, and it can get in the way of me pursuing calling, but the good news is I’ve got enough wisdom to surround myself with friends who are not adverse to smacking me upside the head when I need it.
Yesterday I called to schedule an appointment, and this morning I drove to Vorhees to get my shot. When I arrived there was no parking and a long line, two things which I cannot stand.
I smiled. I was never so happy to be at the end of a long line in my life 2.
The line moved well and soon I was ushered into the vaccine clinic by some of the most cheery folks I’ve ever met in my life. They were excited—everyone from the screeners all the way through those scheduling second-shot appointments. I tend to get anxious in environments I’ve not explored 3, but their cheerfulness helped me relax. Not completely, but enough that I didn’t stumble over words or miss simple directions. This, in turn, helped me to feel even more relaxed.
The shot was easy, and I was glad I had a choice to get it in my right arm 4. After that I sat down in the observation area and waited. I began to feel light-headed and worried that I might be having a reaction. But soon I noticed something else, my shoulders weren’t in pain from stress.
I’d forgotten what relief felt like and, I must admit, I just about wept at the presence of this unfamiliar sensation. My second shot is scheduled for February 4. I’ve got a number of other friends who will be getting their second doses around the same time, and lunches are going to begin getting scheduled.
There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. We aren’t quite there yet, but at least we can be reasonably sure it’s not an oncoming train.
1 I still maintain that me being the pastor of Central is a joke God played on the church which none of us have yet to figure out.
2 Had it been raining I would have been a bit miffed I didn’t bring an umbrella, but the sun was out and we didn’t have much wind so life was good.
3 It’s one of the reasons I dislike paper, I tend to fumble it when I’m anxious and it gets annoying. And, yes, there was fumbling of paper going on this morning. Anxiety is going to do its thing—and, no, I am not claiming I have generalized anxiety disorder.
4 If you’re left-handed, you’ve no doubt suffered dominant-arm soreness after shots. It sucks.
Painfully Hopeful 