By FRED KRONER
I’m not naturally a skeptic.
There are things though that, occasionally, cause me to pause.
One is taking shots.
Until almost a decade ago, I was a true believer. When flu shots were available, I was about the first in line.
Next year will mark a decade since I last had one.
It wasn’t by design.
Several days after my last flu shot inoculation, I was in the hospital emergency room – and subsequently admitted at Carle – for what was diagnosed as a case of Bell’s Palsy.
No one ever definitely connected the dots and said for sure that the shot led to the attack. However, I learned through research that the side effect was noticed by more than one person.
Since then, I have taken no flu shots, and:
— I’ve not had the flu;
— There have been no more attacks of Bell’s Palsy.
So, when I learned that shots had been approved to help combat the coronavirus, I was both excited and concerned.
I am now a few months into one of the high-risk groups, the 65-and-over category, which meant I would be in one of the first groups to be offered the shot.
Did I want to take advantage?
The compelling reason, of course, is reflected in the number of deaths connected to the virus, both nationally and throughout the world, during the past 10 months.
With more than a half-dozen grandchildren, all of whom are 10-and-under, I hope to be around a while longer to watch as they grow into teen-agers, and beyond.
And yet, it took soul searching. Would there be more risks, additional possible side effects? Those are questions no one can answer.
With more thought, both my wife and I decided to take the plunge and bare our arms for the needle.
Last week, on Thursday (Jan. 21), as I read a story online in the Mahomet Daily, I learned the time had arrived for my age group and classification, 65-and-older with no pre-existing conditions.
The article provided both a web site and a phone number where appointments could be made.
Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer the method of communicating by actually speaking to another live human.
I made the call at 10:30 a.m. on Thursday (Jan. 21). A recording told me I might be in for a long wait and that the best option was to go to the web site, but if I didn’t want to do that I should continue waiting.
I waited.
Less than a minute later, a friendly voice was on the line.
When I said I needed to schedule an appointment for my wife and myself, the friendly voice said that my first choice would be on Wednesday because they only had a few individual openings left at scattered times on Tuesday.
She found two together at 4 p.m., 20 minutes before that day’s shots at the iHotel, on south First Street in Champaign, would be concluded.
I accepted that time and inquired how much in advance we should be there. She told me to arrive as close to the appointment time as possible, but not more than 5 minutes early.
So, there we were, still playing a waiting game to get a shot which we already knew would take several weeks before protection would be provided.
I put all negative thoughts out of my mind in the days leading up to the big event.
We walked into the northeast side of the building, wearing our masks, shortly before 4 p.m. on Wednesday (Jan. 27).
Everything was so orderly, and efficient.
People were stationed inside the building at several locations, directing us where to go. The conference room seemed massive and all of the tables were well-distanced.
Every person we spoke to was well-informed and immediately knew answers to our questions.
We were checked in without delay and assigned to a row, where we were asked a few questions and had to confirm that we’d had no other shots within the previous 14 days and that we were feeling fine on this snowy afternoon.
Soon, we were cleared to roll up our sleeves and extend our arms. We had a choice of arms. Both my wife and I selected our left one.
During the week, when I’d seen television clips of high-profile people, such as Vice-President Kamala Harris, receiving their vaccinations, it seemed hokey that they would invariably ask “When are you going to do it?” only to be told the shot had already been administered.
Now, I get it.
My shot had been injected and I didn’t feel a thing. I don’t even know how that was possible and I refrained from asking.
We were told a mandatory 15-minute waiting period was required after getting the shot, to make sure there were no repercussions or side effects.
Emily and I found two socially-distanced chairs that were side-by-side and started our wait by checking Facebook. Before we knew it, 15 minutes had elapsed. That always happens when we’re on Facebook, we’ve found.
Thirty minutes after setting foot in the building, we were leaving by a different exit. We took with us our cards that confirmed we had received the first shot and showed the date for the second – and final – shot of the Moderna vaccination.
We go back on Feb. 24.
Happily, I report that nine hours after the shot, I feel just as good as I did nine hours and one minute earlier.
I just hope I can say the same thing in another 28 days.
