Jab Day


Well, today’s the big day. The one we’ve both been waiting for since news of the vaccine first broke in November 2020.

 

Brian and I are off to get our jabs this afternoon. Brian has spent all week referring to me as the Vaccine Queen while I’ve been calling him Jabby McJabface. I think we’ve finally lost it.

 

You’d think we were kids heading out on a big school outing, wouldn’t you? Mind you, the vaccination centre is six miles away so that more or less counts as a “big outing” these days. Yep, readers of my previous post: you’re right. We’re having to schlep to Watford or Northwood to be vaccinated after all.

 

The official NHS letter arrived earlier this week, instructing us to visit the very same “loophole website” that I complained bitterly about only a few days ago. Turns out it was bona fide.

 

We were then urged to book ourselves in at one of their “centres” which in today’s weird world can be anything from a town hall to an Asda car park. We chose a pharmacy in Northwood on the basis that a) the staff there might at least be accustomed to giving jabs and b) it was the closest to our house.

 

The booking process was quick and seamless and we were able to schedule in Jab Two at the same time. Rather disappointingly, I received a text from my own doctor’s a few days later suggesting that I make an appointment for their Saturday “vaccine clinic”. Aren’t these services joined up at all?

 

Anyway, no matter: I’m going to receive a sample dose of COVID-19 today at 2.50pm sharp. And Brian has the appointment after mine.

 

Never before have I been so excited at the prospect of having a needle plunged into my arm by an amateur who probably only learned how to do it a couple of months ago. And with the prospect of side-effects to boot, my pleasurable sense of anticipation is out of all proportion.

 

I’ll be wearing my Quarant Inn T-shirt to give the amateur jabber easier access to my arm, and also because it’s Pub Night. I’ll let you know how I get on.

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