Between Two Shots
The morning of March 26, I take a Lyft 35 minutes from my urban New Jersey apartment to get my first Pfizer shot. I consciously hold back a relieved sob as I sit for the 15-minute waiting period.
That afternoon I find out a family member is positive for COVID.
That night my arm is mighty sore. The next day it is almost back to normal. One vaccine dose down. One to go.