DMV Failures: No Covid Vaccine for Me
Don kept hearing about this area being referred to as the DMV–apparently that is the District of Columbia, Maryland, Virginia metro area for those who did not know. The east coast’s states are smaller and jig-sawed together like a wild puzzle board, and yes, Maryland and VA abut each other, but none of these factors seem to help me a bit. Don sent me this email the other day about how to get a vaccine in Virginia, and as I said to him, you should realize I am more aggressive than most people about solving problems. I don’t like sitting on my ass complaining about shortcomings and bullshit when I have access to the tools to solve my own dilemmas. Now, this is of course with exception of hundred thousand-dollar plus medical bills and correcting a credit report wrecked by trying to keep up with all of this shit. Nobody short of a trust-funder gets to skate by life without being wrecked by that shit.
BUT. My third attempt trying to get my ass vaccinated by the third hospital network also failed with flying colors. See, I’m under 65 and though the nurse at the office said she saw a lot of 65+ NOT need the vaccine before me, the point remains that I might not be old enough to get any more time afforded to me. I’ve realized, it is totally ALL out of my hands. I have tried the third hospital network, begged pharmacies directly, tried to book appointments as far away as 4 hours as the 6 hour options seemed a little crazy given that’s a lot of driving for one day, back and forth twice. I have tweeted at the governor, I’ve tried multiple websites including but not limited to: Vaccine Finder, GoodRX and GetMyVaccine as well as individual pharmacies and grocery stores. NOTHING has worked.
So, I gave up today. 3/11/2021. Lots of 0123 in there. But I fucking give the fuck up. I am actually making myself sicker trying to remedy this situation and after threatening to kill myself to Don on more than one occasion—it’s literally KILLING me to keep trying and keep getting every door slammed harder than the last. I might be meant to die this time, and ultimately–dying is something I’ve become more comfortable with as time has gone on, and right now the signs might be pointing to me getting ready to die in the most dignified way I can. I mean, if I got the vaccine, I would expect to live more than a few years, but hope is sometimes very expensive to have and will cost you more than if you had spent no time hoping for a thing. Hope seems to be for people who can afford to lose, and right now, I’ve just lost enough.
Now my job is to do what I can to make things as easy for us as I have the power to endeavor. It’s finishing the things I’ve started over the past few years, and starting still other ones I have yet to make any dent in at all. I have to figure out a way to tick off a few more things on my list. I’ve hit a few–gone to Europe, done a few epic quits, lived in NYC. But there’s the art and the t-shirts and the copy and the websites and the stories that come next. I am not fully sure what order they will fall in line, but I would bet the money making endeavors would make the smartest to put first. Besides, you never know, I could make some dents in some debts and leave some overage for Don to enjoy for never abandoning my money pit ass. Hell, even getting some wedding photos or pretty pictures with me and Don with my dress I want to wear would be pretty nice if I could make it happen.
Good grief why is LIVING so fucking hard sometimes? I don’t know. But I’ve done everything I can at this rate. Fuck you Ralph Northam, for being a fucking doctor and forgetting what it’s like to suffer with shit you literally had no choice in suffering with and doing virtually nothing to prevent suffering with something you don’t have to die experiencing. Moving to this state continues to be something I am not sure was the smartest thing to do for us at all–but, because of my shit health, of course, we had no fucking choice. Well, I guess being in Colorado with so much bad shit happening there, what else were we going to do but start new.
I hate to ask, I mean I REALLY hate to ask, but—send me a few good thoughts because I’ve been emptied over the past few weeks of a lot of that.
