I Felt Like Hugging Everyone.
After fighting for so long to get my first vaccine shot, I ended up with an appointment at a mass vaccination site. There are three of them in Maryland, all close enough that I could get there in less than an hour.
Actually, about four million people could get there in less than an hour, and that concerned me. When they opened the mass vaccination site at Six Flags, the news and the traffic reports were inundated with angry callers – some waiting for their vaccine for hours and other waiting to get around the jam caused by the miles-long line.
I was going to a brand new site: the Baltimore Ravens Stadium. I had no idea what to expect, but I prepared for the worst. I got up, ate a healthy breakfast, and left for the stadium four full hours before my appointment.
I didn’t want to be late.
But there was no traffic at all. I pulled into Parking Lot B as instructed, right in front of the gate. While the place was teeming with volunteers in yellow reflector vests and/or military garb, I saw no lines anywhere.
Someone asked me, “Do you have an appointment?”
“I do.”
He pointed to a tent with no line. I walked right in, gave my name, and explained that I was three hours early.
“Okay,” said the female soldier. “Just go through that door and someone will show you where to go.” Not only was she not upset with my early arrival, I swear she was smiling under her mask.
Kind eyes, I thought.
I went through the side door of the tent and into the football stadium. It was vast and quiet. There were volunteers positioned at strategic turning points but otherwise I was the only person in the stadium. It was awesome.
When I realized I was heading up to Club Level, I started snapping photos. One of the workers jumped in a photo with me. We were laughing so gleefully, I took the escalator two steps at a time to get to the top faster.
When I arrived at Club Level, I was escorted to a “line” (with no one in it) and given an iPad to “check in” (again). I barely finished answering the three questions before the “line” ended. A woman took my iPad and escorted me to the place where I would receive my vaccine.
The Club Level was a cross between a hospital and a luxury resort lobby. Everything was spread out for social distancing. Strategically placed tables with two people each sat just out of the way of the cast of workers moving deftly between them.
I felt like hugging everyone.
Someone led me to a table. One woman entered my information into a computer while the other prepared my vaccine. We talked and laughed like we’d been friends for decades. As I got the shot, I thought: Finally.
But thinking wasn’t necessary. I was swiftly moved to a chair for my 15-minute observation. During this time, a soldier labeled “GRANT” set up my second vaccine appointment.
More kind eyes.
By this point, I loved everyone I saw. Their kindness was contagious. When I asked a question that only “Sergeant” could answer, he was so soft-spoken and sweet, I assumed he was related to Gandhi.
Eventually they ushered me toward the exit. A volunteer asked if I preferred to take the stairs or an elevator, and I opted for stairs.
Still giddy, I took them two at a time down, too.
I felt like I’d just had a spa day.