Here's how I got my COVID-19 vaccination: I drove to Cleveland

I knew it wouldn't be easy to score a COVID-19 vaccination.

Besides falling into the 1A group in Pennsylvania, I had reported and written stories about the virus, the vaccinations, the victims and all the emotions around those. There were so many people who desperately needed the shot, so I waited a few weeks to start staking out pharmacies.

For those who have been trying, this is a familiar story. I tried every major store and pharmacy and lots of mom-and-pop pharmacies. I got nowhere.

Some people suggested a window of time that was ideal to search for an appointment. At first, I heard 10 a.m. to 1 p.m., then I've talked to people who found spots very early in the morning (5 a.m.) or late, late at night (midnight). 

I work full time, so I couldn't regularly refresh a website screen for a couple of hours. The other times of the day also didn't hold any magic for me.

One drugstore sent out an email around 8 p.m. each day with its available times. I set my phone alarm to remind me at 7:55 p.m. to be alert for that email. 

That didn't work either.

One evening, my daughter, Emily, rode into battle with her laptop.

She also had no luck finding a spot for me in Pennsylvania, but she found one in Cleveland, just a few days away. My heart sank. I had interviews planned for work; I just couldn't change my schedule that quickly. No problem, she said, they have appointments on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. 

Wow. OK, sign me up, I told her. Then I wondered: Can people from PA get the vaccine in Ohio?

I remember the questions were asked early on: Must people be vaccinated in their home state? The answer was no. Since the vaccination program is a federal effort, qualifying recipients can go to any state. But had that changed? Sure enough, there has been pushback in some states, so vaccination recipients were denied shots. Luckily, Ohio wasn't one of them.

'I didn't have high hopes'

"I had been stalking RiteAid's website for weeks, to no avail," said one of my editors, Crissa Shoemaker DeBree. She had signed up on the Bucks County Health Department, RiteAid and St. Luke's University Health Network sites for herself and her husband, who both have underlying health conditions.

Nada.

Just after 8 a.m. one Friday, she couldn't find a single appointment at RiteAid within a "reasonable" driving distance, but on a whim, she decided to try Weis Markets.

"I didn't have high hopes," she said. The one near her home was unavailable, but suddenly she found an appointment for her husband at Weis in Allentown the following Tuesday. Minutes later, she found one for herself that same day at a Weis in Bethlehem.

"I didn't realize how simply getting an appointment would make me feel, but it was as if a huge weight was suddenly lifted from my shoulders," DeBree said.

They received their Moderna shots without long lines or frustrations, although DeBree was worried when she walked in to find a sign: "We have no COVID vaccines available." The pharmacist assured her the sign was for walk-ins. As planned, both she and her husband got their shots. Besides sore arms, they've had little side effects so far.

Ohio, the land o' plenty

J.D. Prose, another colleague of mine, and his wife, Erica, also found some gold in Ohio.

"How far is East Palestine, Ohio, from here?” Erica asked J.D., pronouncing the town’s name like the home of Palestinians rather than the “Pal-uh-steen” version locals prefer. 

The Prose family lives in Allegheny County, Pennsylvania, about 45 minutes from East Palestine, Ohio. That's where Erica found appointments for their first doses, at a RiteAid.

"Unfortunately, or, I guess, fortunately in this case, both of us have a body mass index (BMI) above 30, which means we are considered obese and particularly susceptible to the coronavirus," J.D. said. "Now, I know I need to lose a few pounds, especially being past 50, but obese? That was a serious kick to the ego."  

The next day, they were at RiteAid, where three employees welcomed them. No one else was in line when they arrived.

"An employee at a desk took our driver’s licenses, and I held my breath because I was still half expecting her to see our Pennsylvania address and dramatically kick us out while lecturing my wife and I about stealing vaccinations from the fine folks of eastern Ohio," he said. "Thankfully, that didn’t happen."  

In about five minutes, a line had formed behind them, scheduled appointments for the Pfizer vaccination.

"Erica and I felt fine although I had a slightly stiff neck for a few hours. She called me a hypochondriac," J.D. said. 

They return this week for their second dose.

A delay, then a score

After one delay in my appointment — shifted back because the snowstorms stalled distribution — I received my first vaccination on March 12.

I had spent the night before in Conneaut, Ohio, where one of my sisters lives. Patty and her husband, Chuck, already had their first shots. They drove me to the RiteAid in downtown Cleveland the next morning.

When I walked inside, only two other people waited in line for vaccinations, a married couple, and this was their second Moderna vaccine. 

No one else was there, despite vaccination appointments that had been open throughout the morning when I signed up.

The couple in line ahead of me had seen their granddaughter during the pandemic, but only from a distance. Post-vaccine, she was the person they most wanted to see.

We all agreed the pandemic has been life-changing. In late 2020, I moved to live closer to my daughter because the isolation had crushed me most of the year. 

My first vaccine is a big relief. My second will be a shot of hope. 

Kim Strong can be reached at kstrong@gannett.com.