How Not To Get A Covid Vaccine

I read a few weeks ago that the CDC recommends two doses of a covid vaccines this winter for people at high risk of serious disease. So having been vaccinated in September, I asked my primary care provider if I should get a second dose.

Yes, good idea.

Can you write me a prescription?

You won’t need one, just go to the pharmacy.

Okey dokey. I went off to the pharmacy. 

There’s no one on staff who can give it to you right now, but you can make an appointment.

I was already so aggravated about the rumpus over the underfilled prescription that I walked away to calm down, and left my always supportive spouse to continue the conversation; she made dates for the next morning.

Next morning: a phone call.

We can’t give you the vaccine, it has to be at least six months after the previous dose.

The CDC: the minimum interval is two or three months, depending on the manufacturer. I have no idea which kind I had last time, but it’s been almost five months; I contact my doctor. She writes a script. I go back to the pharmacy.

How old are you?

62.

We can’t give you the vaccine, you have to be over 65.

I have a prescription from my doctor because I’m at higher risk.
You need to have a condition.
My doctor said she sent a prescription, did you get it? 

We have it. mYou need to have a reason. What condition do you have?
You need to know that?
Yes.*

There’s a line behind me now. She takes my deets, gives me a form to fill out, and goes off to run my insurance information.

It’s expired.
The policy I had expired, but I’ve had a new one since December. It’s on record. I’ve filled several prescriptions.
They’re saying it’s expired now.
…..
…..
Do you have a card?

I hand it over. She huddles with three or four other pharmacy employees. The line behind me is getting long. She comes back, hands me a printout.

Your insurance won’t cover it.

How much is it?

Over a hundred dollars, I think. I’ll go check.

…. 

$245.

I look at my very patient spouse, who has been waiting, patiently, behind me. The line is about ten deep by now. She nods. I get out my credit card.