Plumbing 
Two shots of the vaccine and we feel like running screaming and hugging into the largest crowd we can find. As though we just surfaced from a prolonged cave dive into warm sunshine and the air that we suck into our lungs feels crisp and not filtered through a half inch of cloth or abject fear.
But not so fast. The CDC’s latest guidance suggest that those who have received two doses of the vaccine should feel free to visit indoors with unvaccinated members of a single household who are at low risk for severe disease. We can do so without wearing masks or keeping our distance. Many vaccinated grandparents who live near their unvaccinated children and grandchildren also have the green light to visit. But should the unvaccinated neighbors pop in, everyone needs to beat it outdoors.
That is clearly progress but it is not the reckless abandon some of us had envisioned. No rave parties, no yelling cheek by jowl with fans at crowded sporting events and not even a multi-family gathering at Easter. Travel is also being discouraged because there continues to be a correlation between high travel holidays and increased transmission. There is also the problem with the variants that are lurking in airports, which are tantamount to a global pathogen stew.
The Vaxed are advised to follow the same precautions if travel is necessary, which is masking and washing and standing off. In fact, nothing much has changed for safely navigating public settings. Except, and this is kind of special: If we are exposed to someone suspected of having the virus, we do not have to quarantine or even be tested if no symptoms develop. In your eye, coronavirus.
Each day we are grateful for having received the vaccine and feel obligated to spread the message to the younger population and the older folks who are hesitant. We hear worried questions about symptoms and shake our heads: Nothing. No fever, no aches, just outsized relief.
And we proselytize about our hospital, health authority, volunteers from Southwest Texas Junior College and others who have elevated our community to star status as a vaccine hub. You have read the letters of praise in these pages. People from afar, including my sister and brother-in-law who drove out from their home in San Antonio last Wednesday, have been vaccinated here. My sister and her husband, who are in their early 70s, had been trying for months to get on a list in San Antonio, any list. It took less than a week to secure an appointment in Uvalde. And like so many others, they glowed about the efficient and courteous treatment at the civic center.
It has been a year since COVID-19 stole into our community. For the most part it feels far longer than 12 months – as though we have been opening, closing, opening again and forever avoiding close contact with family and friends for a decade.
We may still be wearing a coronavirus shackle, but thanks to the vaccines the chain has been lengthened significantly. I think most of us would like to stretch it as far as possible without hanging ourselves. But that only applies to rope, right?
