Here’s a heartening story about, of all things, standing in a flu shot line. Dad had some really offbeat ideas for stories. Come to think of it; dad was really an offbeat kind of man. It was sometimes difficult living with a reporter who was always looking for the angle or the other side of the story. Sometimes playing ‘devil’s advocate’. Other times taking your words literally when you were not stating things wisely (he would have loved Donald Trump!).
I hope you enjoy this story as much as I.
Oh . . . My step-daughter (ward), Brianna Willey Graduated from Macomb Academy this past week. We are all very proud of her and expect she will lead a productive and happy life as she transitions to the non-academic world.
Happy Summer Solstice,
David T
p.s. As usual, all Comments and Likes are welcome . . .
“Happiness in a Flu Shot Line”
By Don Tschirhart
Excerpted from the unpublished book “It’s a Wonderful World: A Retired Reporter Looks At Life“
Just say, “Flu shots,” and see the reaction of those around you.
A grimace here. A happy face there. Desperation for some. Anger. Frustration. Exasperation everywhere.
My wife, Margie, and I had an appointment to get flu shots at our internist’s office in Rochester, but his receptionist called and said he was unable to get the vaccine.
Having survived heart surgery and a cancerous lung removal I figured I needed that vaccine. Margie, being of age, needed one, too.
Like most people we were on our own. Knowing the flu season probably would not begin until January I refused to panic. Somewhere, somehow a flu shot would come out of the wood work and stab me.
Everywhere people were talking about not having half the vaccine of a year ago, the other half having been impounded by Great Britain because testing found impurities (or something like that.)
I figured this was the Brits revenge for the whipping Americans gave them in the Revolutionary War. (Only kidding, cousins.)
But I began my winter habit of washing my hands as often as I could and not touching my fingers to my face.
When word got out that 400 doses of vaccine would be available at the Farmer Jack Supermarket in Imlay City, just a block away from home, I figured Margie and I would get one. The “cattle call” would begin at 6:00 p.m.
At 11 that morning, seven hours before the start, I went to the store to get a few groceries. At the entrance there were eight older people sitting at tables waiting to get shots. I was told they’d been there for a half hour.
There they sat, determined expressions on all their faces. It was as if they were saying, “We’re going to get our flu shots if we have to sit here for a week.”
Those early birds gave me the idea that it might be best to get to the store an hour early. At 5:00 p.m. Margie and I walked in the door, given slips of paper with numbers 154 and 155 and sent on our way to stand with the 153 before us.
Because most of those waiting were older there was no thought of riotous behavior. Few complained about standing so long. All knew it would be an ordeal. Margie and I took turns walking around in the aisles to keep our legs in shape. I also carried my trusty book to wile away the time.
At one point we were asked to move to another aisle so older people in the beer aisle could get away from the cooler. Indeed, it was cold there.
There was a lot of kindness. Younger and more agile persons found chairs and grocery carts for those who found it difficult to stand for such a long time.
A woman[ed.] named Deborah of Imlay City was behind Margie and I. Debbie has had multiple sclerosis for 20 years. I have seen a lot of bravery in my day, but Debbie is as brave as any of them.
Thin as a rail, Debbie stood strongly for a time holding on to a shopping cart, but soon her legs gave out and she knelt on the floor.
She refused help saying she loved her independence, but was happy when someone found a chair in the staff [ed.] dining area.
Not once did she grimace in pain or weakness. Her ever-present smile and humor were a beacon of hope for those around her.
After a three-hours Margie and I were given the vaccine and stood there for Deborah to receive her’s. Before we left we hugged. My heart went out to this wonderful brave woman.
My hat goes off to the Farmer Jack’s manager for the use of his store for this important procedure, and to his staff [ed.] who were so gracious.
The staff[ed.] were kind and patient as they directed the older people to places in line. A woman walked a cart with opened boxes of cookies and orange juice up and down the aisles, not once, but several times.
Kudos also for customers who were confused by people getting in their way as they made their way down the aisle.
Everyone had smiles, knowing that these older people were someone’s beloved grandparents.
