(At least it had been a cool, comfortable morning for a walk. Silver linings, people.)
I was out the door again at 10:45 a.m., to the same bus route, on the same streets as a few hours earlier, and I approached the OCC about 11:30 to see lots of people in line outside. I got in line, properly distanced for these pandemic times, and other people kept their space in line, too. It didn't take long for us to start moving into the building: vaccine injections were to start around noon, but they let us in earlier to get the process started, as of course there's paperwork and people-sorting.
Which was done damn efficiently. I'd been wanting to see the Oregon Convention Center operation, as I'd heard how smooth it was, but due to my current tech limitations I hadn't been able to book appointments online as recommended. But currently the OCC site takes walk-ins, as long as you're getting your second dose of the Pfizer vaccine, and hey! I was.
The efficiency extended to handling me and my tech limitations well. When one volunteer told me to get out my phone and photograph a QR code to use, I pulled out my phone. It's a flip phone. She looked at it and said "Yeah, that's probably not going to work." I got my paperwork, talked to several volunteers, all who steered me well, and navigated the cavernous space of the convention hall. No photos; privacy reasons.
And I got the jab. A National Guard officer did that for me, into my right arm as I requested (I'm left-handed), then added the proper sticker to my little COVID-19 card to show that yep, I'm double-dosed as needed for Pfizer. Then I further navigated the hall, found a single seat in the observation area, and sat in case I had an adverse immediate reaction. It was about 12:08 p.m.
It amused me then, finally, that it was really on-the-nose for me to have brought a book to read by Seanan McGuire, author and amateur expert in all sorts of viruses. (Though it's one of her urban fantasy novels, Half-Off Ragnarok, that I'm reading, not one of her horror novels about zombies.) Not as on-the-nose as the time I did a blood donation while reading a Buffy the Vampire Slayer novel...
One thing I appreciated: everyone involved kept this process light. Not too serious, but also (among the people I talked to) not joking about this, either. I realized I wasn't in the mood for anything goofy; I wanted to get dosed, get to the bathroom, and get going. I felt well-handled. Thank you, all of you who helped me.
At 12:23 I could leave the observation area. I found a bathroom (I'd been hydrating all the way to the clinic site as I was supposed to), used it, then headed out, texting a few people that — yes! — I'd been dosed. I waited for a street car, rode it to between the Morrison Bridge and the Hawthorne Bridge, then started zigzagging towards the bus line home. As I had time and was in the mood to walk, I walked far enough down Hawthorne Blvd. to stop at the 20th Ave. 7-Eleven. I got my first post-vaccination treat: a couple of taquitos. A few minutes later, I was bussing home.
I've been taking it very easy since. Luckily, and happily, my side effects (SO FAR) have been mild. I've continued to hydrate well, I got a nap in late this morning, I indulged in a bath, and I've watched my energy levels. I felt really tired this afternoon a little before 4:30, but it was manageable (thanks, decaf tea).
Now on my wall calendar, yes I have a wall calendar, is a note on Sunday, June 6th: "Fully Vaxxed." Progress, as I've kept hoping for...