My dad's vaccines are holding up, or maybe it's just that he doesn't get around much anymore anyway. That latter may also be the reason why his legs gave out last Thursday. He spent the weekend in Chambersburg Hospital for observation; yesterday, he was relocated to the inpatient rehab clinic that happens to be closest to us (where he previously spent the period from July to October of 2018). Because the pestilence came to these lands in the meanwhile, we now have to make appointments to visit him, the first of which is for Thursday afternoon. I've got a therapy appointment that would cut short my time with him, but I'm thinking of rescheduling it, because tomorrow I go in forĀ Moderna 2: This Time It's Supplemental (or, as my brother thought more fitting when we spoke on the phone earlier this evensong, Moderna 2: Electric Boogaloo, but he's one of those guys who thinks everything is a strapless evening gown), and my GP warned me this afternoon that a lot of people get clobbered by their second jab.
COVID-19 Check-In Thread Part IV
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