A Covid Shot

Today I went to get the booster of my booster of my booster shot at CVS. The other day I got my flu shot. I could have gotten them at the same time, but for reasons to stupid to name, I’ll leave that part out.

I’ve been writing the toughness chapter in the book I’m working on (with the amazing Laura Barnard) about Kathy Delaney-Smith, the winningest coach in Ivy League history, and apparently I have a lot to learn because when we were working I mentioned to Kathy how sore my arm was after the flu shot, and she just about fell out of her chair. The true story maybe is that I almost fell out of my chair because I had the sense Kathy was winding up to punch me in the arm.

I guess Harvard athletes don’t mention they are a little sore after an innoculation. Duly noted. To be perfectly clear, after I didn't get punched in the sore arm by Kathy, I told her I was going to get a t-shirt that said “I Never Played for Harvard” so I could whine about aches if I wanted to and not feel self-conscious about it.

But, truly, I’m never again going to complain about a sore arm because I, in my deepest hearts of hearts, want to be tough.

Anyway.

The old man before me in line told the women giving the shot a joke. I couldn’t see him because he was behind the screen CVS erects to protect the people getting their shot from being watched, but I could hear him just fine. “Where do one-legged people go to get a job?" he asked after telling the women he was in a lot of pain because of what she was doing. She expressed concern and he said he was just kidding. “They go toIHop,” he said. The woman laughed and laughed and told him he was done. “You did both shots?” the man asked. “Sure did,” she said. “Wow,” he said. “You’re good.”

The old man came out from behind the screen and said to me, “Want to hear a joke?” I said I did. “Where do one-legged people go to get a job?” he asked. “IHop,” I said. “You know that joke?!” he said. I nodded. He wished me good luck and slowly made his way past the pharmacy.

The woman called my name and I went behind the screen and sat down. I patted my right arm and said I wanted the needle to go there because I’d been shot in the other arm. I did not say it was sore.

“Oh my god,” she said. “What? You were shot? What are you doing here?”

“Oh!” I said. “I mean I had a shot in the other arm.”

She laughed and laughed and I laughed and laughed. “Actually, I was shot on my way here, “ I said, “but I wanted my COVID booster before I went to the hospital.”

We laughed and laughed and laughed.

It was a good vaccine. I have nothing to say about the comfort level of either shoulder.