The story that matters most.

So pretty much all of my friends, family and the neighbors I know have gotten their second shot and I’ve heard first hand all the stories about how they did. Reactions range from nothing at all to fever, aches and rash.

This morning it’s finally my turn and the build up has been “ugh.” I’m filled with performance anxiety.. yes, that’s the best way to describe it. At 9am I will be handed a uni-cycle of sorts and off I will roll.. It will either be smooth sailing or it won’t.

Last time, when I got my first shot, the woman waiting with me shared her story about how she had prepared by drinking tons of gatorade the night before. I, on the other hand, had enjoyed a cocktail the prior evening and drank two cups of coffee that morning.. pretty sure I was raisin-level dehydrated.

And I did fine.

Let’s face it, we don’t have all the answers and there are so many stories out there.. but I did skip Whiskey Wednesday last night as a precaution and yes, I drank a lot of water just to give myself an edge.

There’s so much we don’t know.. but what I do know is that my hair stylist just buried her dad who was assaulted out of seemingly nowhere by this punk disease. One visit she’s telling me he’s super annoyed because he had to get tested even though he only had minor cold symptoms. Next visit, he had been on a vent for over 30 days. My last visit she was telling me about his funeral.

That’s the most compelling story to me.