Right now (not a long time ago), in this galaxy (not one far, far away), there is an enemy to fight: the COVID-19 virus. Well, most of us recognize the virus as an enemy. Some people are probably still pretending that it doesn’t exist. Either way, now we finally have a weapon to fight this enemy just like Luke did when he shot torpedoes into the Death Star. Okay, it’s not a perfect analogy, but I’m imagining those messenger RNA molecules going door to door, teaching our cells how to ward off an attack from the virus, like they’re creating a whole rebel army to work against the dark side. And a couple of days ago, I got my first round of the torpedo. I heard from someone at work that a certain place in town was allowing people under 65 who had qualifying conditions to make appointments for the vaccine if they called the right number and asked for the right person. So I called the number and asked for the person. She asked if I was over 65. I said no. She asked if I was under 65 with any qualifying conditions. I told her that if obesity counted, then yes. I’m not particularly proud of how much I weigh, but for the first time in my life I was glad about it. I had honestly thought I would be in the last round of people to get the vaccine because I don’t think of myself as having any underlying conditions, but someone else I know mentioned that they had gotten an appointment for the vaccine for being overweight, and I know I’m heavier than that person is, so I thought it would be worth a try.
Anyway, I got my first dose of the Pfizer vaccine this week. And I’ve been feeling all sorts of things. Luckily I haven’t had too many physical side effects from the vaccine–mostly just a sore arm, a little headache (which may have been because I stared at a computer screen at work for hours the day after I got the shot), and some fatigue (but that could have been because I still struggle to make myself go to bed at a decent time). But my non-physical side effects are ranging from elation to anxiety to guilt to hope. Elation because I genuinely didn’t think I would have a chance of getting one any time soon and, as my workplace is open to the public again, this gives me some comfort that I’ll be more protected soon. Anxiety because a tiny part of me worries that supply will dry up and there won’t be a dose available when I’m supposed to get my booster in a few weeks. Guilt because I know there are others who want to get the vaccine but haven’t been able to yet. And hope because…well, it feels like I’m one step closer to regaining some normalcy.
Don’t get me wrong–I’m not sure I want to go back to “normal”, exactly. But I want to be able to go into a store without worrying that the person coughing in the next aisle may spread a deadly virus to me. And I want to listen to live music, and go out to eat, and gather with friends & family, and hug my mama, and someday, hopefully soon, I want to travel with The Bearded One again. And that little dose of torpedo in my arm, makes it seem like these parts of “normal” are getting so much closer.
Please understand that I don’t mean to make light of the lives that have been lost to the pandemic with this silly comparison–that’s the last thing I want to do. I just knew I wanted to write about the hope that’s been bubbling up in me since getting my first dose of the vaccine, and when that title popped into my head I couldn’t resist using it. Plus, as a wise little green guy once said, “Luminous beings are we…” So please get your own torpedo when you can–let’s take down this Death Star so we can be luminous beings together safely again soon. I miss my fellow rebels.
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