First – a Corono-shot update. Well, I went in at the appointed time for shot#2. Actually, I was a little bit early, but as I walked into the abandoned video rental store, things were strangely quiet. I approached the Plexiglas sheltered desk, and apologized for being early. Just a word about the Plexiglas – I understand the concept of the clear plastic barrier between the workers and the infectious public, but I can’t see how it can work. At the grocery store, you have to intentionally stand in front of the plastic, and even then the checker is off to the side, and after all is done, she hands you your receipt around the other end of the plastic. Seems like if those Covid stinkers had any sense at all, that they could easily sneak around the sides, and get either party. As it is, everyone is still wearing masks, so with muffled voices from that – unable to hear most consonants – and then added to that another layer of soundproofing from the plastic – well, it’s a marvelous technological invention. It lets you practice saying your name two or three times, and then get to ask the person helping to repeat what they said again and again.
Anyway, the folks at the desk seemed very happy to see me yesterday, and I would assume that’s because the place was nearly empty. Amazing – the single most significant medical event in a century, and with the ability to now get a vaccination against the beast – few people show up. Now, maybe I caught it at a slow time, but…
So, I filled out the form that once again asked me if I am allergic to anything or know anyone who has CoVid, or if I have somehow breathed normal air in a public place, or if I have traveled to distant lands, and discovered the world outside of my office in the home – it was of course “no” to all of those. I guess they have to ask those questions in the chance that the one guy will show up who has been to both Brazil and Italy in the past week, and doesn’t own a face mask, and doesn’t know how to wash his hands. Of course, he could lie anyway.
So, the pretty young gal – if you can tell behind the mask – promised she would jab me lower on my arm, so it wouldn’t go through the bone. She said, “Ok – a little poke, and then a burn…” I kind of waited, anticipating it, but I felt neither. At that moment, I hoped I hadn’t been given sugar water or something, but we would have to see.
At home last night, the boys and my beloved wife were almost doing the countdown to that exact moment I would be hunched over in chills and sweats with aching and fatigue and wishing I was going to die. We went through supper, and then watched some TV. About 10pm – 7 hours after the shot – I went to bed, fully expecting to be up soon to go through the agony.
I didn’t. Now, I woke up at 4am, but that was because I was a little thirsty, so I took a sip from the glass on the side table, and fell asleep for two more hours. When I finally got up at six am, I had sort of forgotten about the shot. Adam got up a bit later and asked how I was feeling. I told him just fine – no side effects whatsoever. His kind and supporting answer was, “Well – not yet!”
It has now been 17 hours, and nothing. Not that I am complaining, mind you! And I will plan on taking that afternoon nap, not because I desperately need it, but because I’m retired, and that’s on my daily schedule. So, if you are in the group of folks who have had a bad reaction to the shot, I’m sorry. But I am also very happy that the world is a little safer because of my efforts, and all I have is a card to prove I was a good boy and helped things get healthier.
Today is finally Spring in full. We are hoping for a rainy day tomorrow, but today is 100% sun, a high of about 70 and the rabbits and squirrels and thousands of birds are all setting up a temporary city in our back yard. I’m hoping the two ducks that set up a nest by our front door last year have found other accommodations. We did trim the shrubs way back so there is no real protection available, but daily we are in the flight pattern for the hundreds of geese and ducks who live in the slough about 500 yards from our house.
Still, it’s one of those days when I can open my office windows, and have a nice breeze that doesn’t put ice on top of my coffee, and just sigh contentedly. You know it’s spring when your wife opens the front closet at 6:30 in the morning, and remarks, “It’s probably time to store away all the winter coats…” and you get itching to clean out the garage. Why anyone gets “itching” to do manual labor is crazy, but it’s time to fling off the last rags of winter, and post-Easter, recognize we are now in a new season, one of the nicer ones, and shorter ones, in the Red River Valley of the North.
I hope your day is as nice as mine will be – side effect free, and just nice. Just nice.
Word of the day: euphony. Pronounced YOU-fuh-knee. A very simple old Greek word, from two words, eu, meaning “good” and phonos, meaning “sound.” Very simply, it’s that sense deep down in your ear when you have such a pleasant feeling from hearing a sound, or hearing the sound of a word. This of course varies from person to person. For some, singing birds is completely euphonic, while others like the ocean or a solitary oboe playing. As for words, a couple of my favorite euphonic expressions are “petrichor,” the wonderful smell after a rain, or “lissome,” simply graceful, or even “alifenous,” which is what I think when I see a bald eagle flying over our house in the city – it means “having wings,” but these wings are significant.
Find something euphonic to enjoy today.
After 43 years of ministry, Randy Cross lived his "fourth life" and shared about retirement, living boldly and intentionally in our world. To be sure, there was some North Dakota thrown in.