It’s all anyone can think about. On walks or on email chats, we try to talk about other things, but the conversation inevitably drifts back to vaccination appointments: the When, the Where, and the How.
In Massachusetts last Thursday, the over-65 crowd was suddenly allowed to sign up. So guess what? With a million new people eligible—many of them relatively computer savvy—the system crashed. Immediately. Everyone I know spent the day staring hungrily at the computer, checking and rechecking to see if the site had been fixed, then trying all the end-runs around the site. (The main site covers the mass vaccination sign-ups, like the stadiums. There’s another for CVS pharmacies, another for Big Y pharmacies, and others for the various senior centers around.) Every time we found possible appointments (if whatever site we were on didn’t crash), we filled out the form again—the SEVEN PAGE form. Every time, as I typed furiously, I heard the swoosh of appointments disappearing. It wasn’t an illusion, either. By the time I’d filled out the entire stupid form, they had all vanished.
It’s an insane system. It produced an insane feeding frenzy. By the end of Thursday, all of us were feeling insane. Then we got up on Friday morning and did it all over again. Then again on Saturday. . . .
I know from friends and family in other states that it’s been marginally better in other states—but only marginally. My brother lives in rural Oklahoma, and his county obviously had a competent bureaucrat who figured a workable system early on. So my brother has already gotten both his shots and is contemplating a trip to spring training in Arizona. What’s even better—he’s spent days and days helping the over-75 crowd in rural Oklahoma, some of whom aren’t computer savvy, get signed up. He’s also helped arrange carpools for those who don’t drive.
My husband snagged his on Friday evening. A friend forwarded a message from the university that slots were available about an hour away. (Later I learned from a neighbor that the message was posted at 6 p.m. and that, by 6:10, every time was taken.) When my husband saw the message, around 9 p.m., new time-slots had been set up for later in the week. He leapt to the computer right away. I was feeling jaundiced—I’d run to the computer so many times already—so I was two minutes slower getting to the computer. By the time he got his confirmation, I was in the middle of filling out that ridiculous form, and there were three slots appointments left. Two minutes later, when I’d clicked the last button, they had evaporated.
My husband, poor guy, couldn’t even enjoy that brief spasm of teary relief that many of my friends experienced. He had an appointment–good. But I didn’t. Luckily, Michael is the type to translate guilt–even completely unfounded guilt–into action. So by Monday noon, he’d managed to score one for me, too Since I had just finished leading my very first Learning in Retirement class—with an elaborate presentation on the shift from modernism to postmodernism–we had two things to celebrate. That evening, we split a bottle of bubbly wine and watched two episodes of Ted Lasso. It was hard to distinguish the fizz of the prosecco from the fizz of our intense relief.
As someone who now has an appointment (unless it gets canceled because of snow), I can see that my behavior and feelings were somewhat hysterical. We will all get appointments eventually, and we will all get vaccinated. Meanwhile, life will continue as it has for the past year: masking (double masking at the grocery store), socially distancing, washing or sanitizing our hands. What we experienced was a very tiny, very minor version of other social dislocations–the kinds of things refugees experience when trying to get out of war zones or away from persecution. It left us feeling out of control, to be sure. On the other hand, it wasn’t life-threatening. It more closely resembled other social crazes: the “tulip fever” of seventeenth-century Holland, the mania for Beanie Babies, the housing frenzy before the crash of 2008. (Not to mention Q-Anon and the assault on the Capitol.) We’re social creatures, and collectively we sometimes go a little nuts.
Luckily, this was a short episode of anxiety, and I was proud of the way my friends helped each other out. Besides, if we went a little crazy, it’s because we’re so tired of living with Covid. (Feel free to insert the expletive of your choice between so and tired.) It’s been almost a year now, and we are seriously tired of caution and anxiety, tired of not hugging our children and grandchildren, tired of seeing our friends only for walks outdoors, so bundled up that we can tell one person from another only by our coats and hats.
Covid may be a new fact of globalized modern life. Epidemics almost certainly will be. Maybe we’ll getting an annual shot, just as many of us have been getting a flu shot for years. Maybe we’ll continue to wear masks in public spaces and learn to present our vaccination passports at borders. We’ll get the hang of it. By next year, maybe there will even be a rational system for signing up for appointments–one that won’t crash the moment that people actually try to use it. Maybe. It’s nice to dream, anyway. . .
Hi Nancy! First off…congratulations on getting that appointment. I agree that it is kinda nuts that it feels so damn good. Back in December and they were first talking about it Thom and I both said if we got it by March or April we’d be happy. But the minute they were out and we too were frustrated by the computer sign up program–it suddenly felt like winning the lottery. And then as happy as I was about friends getting their appointments I did still feel that twinge of jealousy. After all, I consider myself to be pretty computer savvy but those appointments still alluded me. Then almost magically someone gave me a phone number–that’s right a PHONE NUMBER that was picked up on the first ring and I had appointments for the next day. We are now 2 weeks out from Shot #2 and already have our appointments. I received a call from a friend this morning who just got his 1st appointment and said the website actually worked well from the moment he typed in his birthday. hallelujah! So there is hope…and we completely agree…if we need a booster to bring things back to the “new-normal” sign us up! ~Kathy
It does seem to come down to luck, persistence, and a network of friends…. (I do know a couple of people who had a kid living at home and put THEM up to it. That worked!)
A 7-page form? OMG. Sue and I got our appointments when a friend told us about a local lab (they manufacture medical diagnostic tests) offering the vaccine at an upcoming event in Norman. Aside from name, address, phone and e-mail, there were just a few questions on the 1-page form, all yes/no: 1st responder? Hospital/medical/nursing home employee? Age 65+? Teacher/professor/staff? Underlying health conditions such as diabetes, obesity, immunosuppression, etc.? Any vaccinations in last 2 weeks? Then an array of dates and times. Informed consent and demographic data were collected at the vaccination site (a local hotel/convention center). They were very well prepared and staffed – they vaccinated some 5,000+ late last week (we went on Friday), playing catch-up after Winter Storm Uri socked us on Valentine’s Day and froze everything for a few days. We got our 1st round before the storm, and were scheduled for Feb 15. The lab (IMMY) texted each of us, offering an array of dates and times to reschedule. At the vaccination site, staff (looked like mostly college kids) directed traffic, helped older/mobility-impaired folks in/out of cars at the front door (the rest parked and walked), checked people in on hand-held iPads, checked temperatures, collected informed consent and (voluntary) demographics information, shepherded us into the ballroom for the shots. Different colored t-shirts for different roles, like on an aircraft carrier flight deck. Even free WiFi so I could amuse myself reading the day’s news during the mandatory 10-minute observation period. The lab has a contract with the state, and the city kicked in $ as well, the hotel donated the space, and several local restaurants donated meals, snacks, and drinks for the staff. All in all, a pretty impressive example of how a community can really pull together. We got lucky here.
Wow, that’s a nice story — a nice experience to have had! I’ve been told the actual sites here are mostly well run. It’s just been the website for appointments that’s been so messed up. They didn’t even have a way to save the information on that long form! Maybe all the good tech people work for private companies????? Anyway, glad to know you got your first once — when’s the second?
both done. And good point about saving the form data – we had to re-answer the questions every time we tried to find appointments on the state’s vaccination portal. The IMMY portal was enter once and done.
I am so relieved to have had our first doses and now we are scheduled for our second ones tomorrow. The sign-up wasn’t exactly smooth but I got on my computer as soon as I heard that they had opened it up to those 65+ and was able to snag an appointment. It does seem that “they” (whoever they are) should have been working on a sign-up procedure at the same time the scientists were working on a vaccine. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that having a user-friendly, well-integrated website would be necessary once the vaccine was approved. I have heard that it is getting better, though, and my gratitude for the vaccine definitely outweighs the frustration I felt signing up.
Golly. Well, it’s good that citizens get exercised about this and that they put pressure on their state and local governments, and governments respond. I totally get the frustration with the on-line system, which in its early days caused me, an “over 75” mossback some frustration.
In his defense, Gov. Baker wanted to avoid the bullshit which was going on, and continues, in Texas, Florida and other states, where it was “come one come all” resulting in people running out of gas sitting in enormous lines waiting to get their shot. So he imposed a pretty rigorous stage system, which did prevent long lines of freezing elderly and did properly put health care workers and nursing home residents first, then the 75+ geezers. The idiocy of completing pages of questions and then being told “no appointments” over and over was irritating, and I guess, from what you say, remains an irritant. Better to ask perhaps three questions first like CVS poses, then be reassured of eligibility, then told of available appointments, be allowed to select one, and then complete the ” paperwork.” There is some thought that putting things the other way around dissuades people from nailing down many appointments and holding them for people whose data they can’t know. Possibly.
It was a shock to many in MA when Baker pulled the vaccine from smaller outlets like hospital systems in favor of “going big” at Gillette, Fenway and the like. On the other hand, this resulted in vaulting MA way up the ladder in terms of shots administered, people inoculated, and a much improved ratio of shots delivered from manufacturer to shots actually in arms. At this point, MA is ranked 11th nationally in percentage of distributed vaccines that have been administered. MA was able to do that because the smaller distributors and hospitals were holding back vaccine for second shots. With mass distribution, that goes away and more people get shots. Thus MA now has administered 1.5 million shots. And by the way, Oklahoma is ranked 35th in percentage of distributed vaccines to shots actually administered. And they’ve only done 900K shots. In terms of the percentage of the state population who have had shots, the two states are similar; MA ranks 9th with 16% of the population getting at least one shot, Oklahoma ranks 12th with 15%.
I always like to think that Massachusetts does quite well in national comparisons. So I know somebody out there who decried this whole process, and said “we get the government we deserve.” Well, personally, I deserve the best! I think we’re actually doing quite well. I know Baker, a former CEO of Harvard Health, HATES bad publicity, is extremely competitive, and wants MA to get top ranking in all these indicators if he can do that without long lines of people hanging around in the cold. So that means the appointments system will get a lot better. Soon we’ll be number one in everything, as is our God-given right!
A robust defense of our state! And I’m happy to see that we’re moving so much faster now….