March 30, 2021 Last Full Day

We leave tomorrow. This is a difficult move. We have stuff in every corner. Our luggage hasn’t gotten larger, and I’m leaving the tub that I mailed. When full it weighed 61.83 lbs and cost $151.05 to mail. Unfortunately, the size and number of the piles of stuff seems the same.

I was on high octane this morning. Yesterday afternoon, I missed a call from the clinic. The message wasn’t specific but requested a call back in the morning. I told Terry I wasn’t going to get my hopes up that they had a cancellation and were calling me to get the shot.

I started the morning waiting to call Teresa at the clinic who has the sweetest voice and nobody could be upset with her. Terry was sitting across from me at the table. I told him this is about his mix up getting his Covid test yesterday. He said I was getting the vaccine.

Yesterday the tech came out to give us the swabs and vials to administer our Covid tests. We requested them because we’re flying. They are no longer required, but it seemed prudent.

The health tech said to me, Deborah? and to Terry, Charles? “My name isn’t Charles.” She showed him the appointment with Charles listed. “See. Isn’t that you?”

“No.” She handed him the kit and waited for him to follow her instructions on swabbing and depositing the contents into the vial. She requested of him, “Ok, give me your name and DOB.” She had nothing to write with or on. We were outside. Terry provided the information.

She said, “Terry Miller, I’ll remember that. “ and what’s your date of birth?”

“7/24/52.” Terry told her.

“I’ll remember 4:20 because of pot smoking time.”

I said, “Well that’s a clever way to remember the date, but it’s 7/24/52.”

She repeated 7/24/52 until she said “got it.”

Will this morning’s call to Teresa be inviting me to get my shot or to clear up Terry’s information?

“McGrath medical clinic, this is Teresa.” Sweet. “This is Deborah Hansen.” Terry looks hopefully at me. “Thank you for calling me back. Can you clarify Terry’s birthday?”

Crestfallen, I walked around in circles. Deciding that I didn’t like any of my stuff, and I’d just leave it all behind. Then I sat at my laptop ready to get lucky and actually get an appointment for tomorrow in Anchorage or for a future date in Santa Cruz.

Of course nothing had changed, there were no appointments available even though the websites promised the vaccine was in stock. While I was searching, Terry read me the scathing reviews of these websites.

Vindication that it wasn’t just me, got me away from the screen. The weather was 32° warm. A perfect goodbye walk on the road to nowhere. Two miles out my phone rang, and I managed to get it out of the stretchy pocket on my running tights. It was the clinic, could I get there in forty-five minutes? Someone cancelled. Sure.

It was 3.5 miles to the clinic, and I needed to stop by the house to use the bathroom, get my mask, and put on a short sleeve shirt. I ran with the theme song of Chariots of Fire playing in the background. The slick packed snow roads felt like running on moving walkways in airports. My running pace was Olympic qualifying. I was Pee-Wee Herman passing snow machines instead of bikes. Just made it!

All smiles and sore arm, now.