Final Stretch, 24 & 25. The Goal Recedes.

Almost a month ago, I subtitled my blog with Final Stretch, because it seemed we were in the final stretch of the pandemic; people were being vaccinated left and right, the number of contagion was falling steeply. The brakes just got pulled.

The Delta variant, highly contagious, is starting to gain on the British variant, which was already more contagious than the original. Only those who have been vaccinated with their two shots are more likely to stave off Delta, the rest can easily get sick. And, thanks to end of school trips to Mallorca, around a thousand cases have been detected almost all over Spain among teenagers who let their hair down at the offered macro parties. Worse, still, it's not just the teenagers in some cases, but their parents and other family members, as well. Common sense, sentidiño as we say here, is brilliant in its absence. 

Despite this, Spain has gone ahead with its new rules on masks. But, it turns out that the new rules are the ones I already abided by, especially on warm days. Masks don't need to be worn outside while you can maintain a distance of 1.5 meters from others. That's why I already used to do.

On Saturday morning, I went to the Cidade da Cultura (that mausoleum of public money) to get my second shot. Once there, in the esplanade, I had my mask on, but lowered. I was keeping my distance from others. Still, the security guard standing where the line starts told me I had to wear my mask. I gestured toward the mausoleum and said, of course, I would wear it in there, and pulled it up. Everyone was wearing their mask properly outside in the fresh air. 

That afternoon, before I was bowled over by the effects of the shot, I went shopping in nearby Boiro. Almost everyone was wearing their mask while walking in the street, even when well separated from others. The only ones not wearing them were the people sitting at the terraces. Ironically, the new rules state that while sitting at a terrace, a mask is still obligatory at all times except when consuming. The world is topsy-turvy. 

That afternoon, though, as soon as I got home, I sat down to rest before putting away the groceries. Normally, I never do that, but I was so tired, I just had to. As the evening wore on, the tiredness grew, and so did the aches in different parts of my body, especially the lower back. My arm was throbbing by now, and hot. We grilled some sardines outside, but my heart wasn't in it, and I barely ate any. By the time I went to bed, I was running a low grade fever, and I took a paracetamol. During the night, I awoke, cold and shivering. Most of Sunday, I was achy and tired. And unattentive. In my last blog entry, I called Grandas de Salime, Grandas de Salinas. Normally, I try to avoid such obvious mistakes. Toward night, I began to feel better, and yesterday morning I was fine. My arm is still slightly hot, though the swelling and pain have gone down, and the rest of me seems normal. At least I know, that with this reaction, I am assured that my immune system is responding well to the immunization. 

And, no, spoons don't stick to me, so don't believe the conspiracy theories, and get the vaccine.

Life continues.