Covid-19


10
Mar 21

Still no super powers

So this is day two, and I feel fine. My arm is better and I haven’t developed any supernatural abilities beyond the ones I already had. I have two. One is of very limited use and not worth talking about. The other is spectacularly useful, and would be a big hit on the old Whose Line game …

My super power involves always being able to pick the correct size container in which to store leftovers. Very useful. Never going to save the planet from marauding invaders.

This is the one I already had, and I am still waiting for my new vaccine-inspired powers to kick in. And, also, the second dose. I’m also waiting for the two weeks after that, when the magic has really happened. So five weeks. A lot of things happen in five weeks. Some of you have been in relationships that lasted less than that. I’ve watched TV shows with a shorter run. That’s half of a Kardashian wedding! Ethel Merman and Ernest Borgnine were married for a shorter time, too! Five weeks is less than four Scaramuccis! And I’m sure they’ll rush right by so that I can continue to be cautious, but with a bit more peace of mind.

And also some carefully controlled family visits. Looking forward to that, as most everyone is.

Meanwhile, a former student notes Utah is about to join Alaska in opening up vaccinations.

And this bit of news which will be profoundly encouraging, I’m sure.

Something else I know you’re looking forward to, the television shows. This is last night’s news show.

And the students also produced this really cool show, too.

One last normal thing … we had the opportunity to watch some racing last year in the middle of the pandemic, which is going to seem a really brazen thing, one day. But this, here, now, feels different. I said it because I felt it.

And the more and more I think about it, I wonder why. What’s the normal part and why? And why is it normal? Have we finally just begun to internalize things? That seems an inherently risky thing, doesn’t it? We could be so close to turning the tide on this thing, and all of our own choices have helped with that in some regard. We shouldn’t toss that aside just yet.


9
Mar 21

Upper arm still sore

But everything else feels just fine after the first full day of the first shot of my two-dose Covid-19 vaccination. I only notice my arm hurts when I try to elevate it, as if to more closely examine the sudden emergence of this extra thumb on my right hand. But for normal, light office stuff, all is well and good. I’d read somewhere about whether you should get this particular shot in your dominant arm or your non-dominant arm. When I asked the shot-giver which arm she wanted she, in turn, asked me if I slept on my side, and suggested the other arm.

After going to bed last night and waking up this morning, I can say that was the correct way to determine my arm selection. I did not like lying on the arm that had the sharp piercing metal poked through it. Go figure.

Also, the shot itself hurt about 11 percent more than the flu shot last fall, but the post-shot arm ache was different.

And if all of that helps you decide which arm you want, you are now … armed … with the information. Now get lined up to get that shot!

It’s a crowded day in a busy week — busiest of the semester thus far — so this is thin, yes. But, hey, it’s Tuesday.

I did get stood up in one Zoom meeting. Hey, it gave me a break from anything else for a while. And it let me make this gif.

That’s from a video I shot at the airport in Amsterdam in 2018. You can see it here.

It’s a fascinating piece of art by Maarten Baas and, being an airport, spot-on accurate. More on the Schiphol Clock, here.

And, tonight …


8
Mar 21

My bicep is a little sore

That didn’t go over at all how I’d pictured. I’d somehow imagined something big, more emotional, more celebratory. I am all of those things, and something approaching the direction of relieved, too — but it’s internalized.

A young woman named Emily gave me my first Covid vaccine dose today. She said she’s been at this eight days. She’s not counting how many people she’s seen, how many times she’s handed over the famous cards, answered the same questions.‬

‪I made sure she heard my “Thank you,” made sure she knew it was sincere.‬ It seemed the only feeble thing I could do, then and there. Sometimes you just want to give high fives to total strangers. It’s hard not to be excited about this.

I am not showing my whole card, because putting that online is somehow when the microchip gets activated. And my superhero powers haven’t kicked in yet, but you know I’m trying.

We stayed at the store a while, to make sure there were no side effects, which was interesting because you could overhear the excitement of others. It was nice to see and feel the optimism of others once again. We passed the time in one of our group chats, where I made a decent Spider-Man joke, and, later, a Hulk joke that didn’t land as well as I wanted it too. The Yankee made a terrific Sue Storm joke, though, and so it was worth it. We had no perceptible side effects in the minutes and hours after the shot, and still feel fine. But my arm is a little tender right at the needle spot. Small price to pay, of course.

So, one down, and come on, end of March, at which time all of those feelings will be externalized, and there will be much relief expressed in many ways — while carefully making sure to continue observing the appropriate safety measures.

Honestly, if it’s a peace-of-mind thing at first, then it can be a peace-of-mind thing for a while.

We’re charting a snow pile at the local box store. This is from Saturday, our fourth week of observation. The weather has been delightfully mild this past week, and that’s reduced this mound to a pile of dirt and debris.

This is that same pile, on Valentine’s Day, after the first snow that mattered.

Just a few days after that photo was taken we got a substantial snow event, and so this was our pile on February 21st.

And, last week, on February 28th, when you could see some obvious decline.

May it all be gone, and soon.

And the weekend helped. Saturday I stood in the shade on one side of the house and had a bit of a chill, but I stood on the other side of the house, in the sun, cleaning windows, and it felt rather grand. Yesterday it was almost t-shirt weather. So, hoping to encourage the onset of, ya know, spring, I wore a t-shirt. This was a Christmas present. Pretty awesome, right?

And it is still, mostly, autobiographical.

The cats are doing well. Phoebe has just about scratched herself out. She had a big weekend full of getting into places she shouldn’t, and being allowed in places we don’t usually let the cats explore.

That’s pretty much every day for Poseidon, though. He’s constantly everywhere. It’s really cute, in retrospect, but not so much when you’re constantly having to jockey against him and fight for position.

But it’s cute.


3
Mar 21

Just some Wednesday stuff

Students are making this. They conceive and write and produce and create all of this material. They’re on a learning curve in public, and they have to overcome dealing with me, and they do a nice job with all of it, week in, and week out.

I think putting up with me might be their biggest obstacle.

You can feel a slight loosening of the tensions that have been created for all of us this past year in the younger crowd. They know people who’ve been sick, or they had Covid themselves and they are well aware of the rules put in place around them and that they aren’t the biggest at-risk group. And they, just like me and you and everyone else, are rushing right up to a year of this. The little groups of people are getting a bit larger. The concerns about space and cleaning and germs and health and all of that, they aren’t diminished, but they’ve become lived in. They’re successful in that context, the students, but all of the rules aren’t.

The numbers of positive cases here, right now, are just tremendously low, and that’s registering with them, too. And it’s interesting to see the casual way some people can behave and perform given all of this. But still, the clumps of people — and we’re just talking friends hanging out in traditional little circles and human nature and stuff — give me a bit of pause.

I like to joke that I didn’t come into this thing a germaphobe, but I’m going to leave it as one. Everyone sorta laughs at that, or acknowledges it to the degree that they identify with it.

And so people gather in these little groups, because you don’t want to shout to be heard over distance. And you’re still fighting the urge to speak louder because you think this mask is going to get in the way. And some of us don’t have a good spatial awareness of what six feet is — even now. And, if we really stopped to think about it, six feet is a silly number as to be almost arbitrary.

All of which is to say, we are so close to something here. I know it’s finally spring in a lot of place — and Bloomington, it’s time for the annual talk about why spring and blooms and flowers are appearing in almost every other part of the continental United States and not yet here — and the promise of a happier season is before us. Not every day is a shoutfest on social media — but it’s there if you want it, sure. And vaccines are moving in so much faster now. It isn’t equal or even or easy in every place, but that Johnson & Johnson influx is going to change things. Some people think they prefer it, for whatever reason, and that’s great. But the sheer numbers, changing the supply, and the refrigeration needs, changing the logistical demands, are huge factors.

Consider, in no particular order this week. Monday it was announced that Indiana had put one million shots into arms. In mid-late February the state opened up vaccinations to the 60+ crowd. And in a day, of that announcement a third of the eligible population had signed up. Also on Monday, the state, which has focused almost exclusively on this as an age breakdown, moved it to 55+. On Tuesday, a day later, they dropped it down to 50+. And now, from the feds, come a push to start vaccination for educators. The Yankee and I might land in that crowd before they get to our age bracket, which would be just fine. You’re also going to see some surveys mentioned this week about how vaccine demand is on the rise. Sure, some diehards are still holding out for their own reasons, but the percentage of wait-and-seers is, as you would imagine, on the decline.

We’re not rounding the corner just yet. We might not even be at the corner, but it surely does feel like it is in sight. So it’s important to not give up hope, not give in to rash choices, and not throw caution to the wind. Now is the time to remember why we should refocus our efforts, because that will make these next few weeks and months just a tiny bit easier.


3
Feb 21

Et tunc tardius primo cursim

The front page of my site is now working correctly and I am so tired. These two things aren’t related.

I’d been having some sort of small code issue or a security certificate issue and it occurred to me that I could get the host provider’s tech support people to look at it. And 11 minutes later they’d fixed the thing. Modern technology is amazing. That person is in California or Hong Kong or Texas or who knows where. They received a note from me, ascertained the problem, owing, no doubt, to my excellent description, and fixed everything for me. And I just waned them to point out the error. But now it is fixed. So that’s one less thing. Which is good. There are always more things.

I am tired because I spent too much time on yesterday’s car chase that stretched into today. I just don’t bounce back from three hours of sleep like I used to.

Even more importantly, it doesn’t seem like the badge of honor it once did.

So I’m tired, you see. Which is probably why this is bumming me out. I’ve had my Covid-19 vaccine — now what can I safely do? Your questions answered.

First of all, I have not had my vaccine. This state just made it into their 65+ range on Monday. Second, if you can’t click that link the best summary is: Once you’ve got your shots, continue to wear masks and continue to stay away from people and don’t take trips and don’t eat at restaurants and don’t hang out with friends, if you have them. So it’s kind of the same as it was yesterday. So it is exactly the same as yesterday. The idea here is you have to have some still amorphous percentage of the population vaccinated and those rates aren’t going to be reached anytime soon. At all.

I’m so happy for people who are getting their vaccines. (I know some of them now!) And I am quite frustrated for those people who have told me their parents or grandparents can’t get signed up. I guess I understand the hesitancy of others, to a point.

All these dominoes have to fall, nearly simultaneously, for us to contemplate getting back to “normal,” which will never be the same.

You noticed the group not included above are the willfully stubborn. Good luck to all of them, since they’re never getting on board.

Consider that video while reading this.

Meanwhile, I have lost count of people I know, or am related to, who have been ill, hospitalized, re-hospitalized and so on and/or have died from this. So, yeah, there’s never going to be a “normal,” just a new thing people pretend to accept while hundreds of thousands of people, or more, are hurting, healing and aching forevermore.

Not every day can be treated with equal parts good cheer and British Steel.

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