Jab Done

Yesterday afternoon I drove myself down to the designated local hospital to have the first Pfvizer jab.  (So far so good, no side effects, except a very slightly sore upper left arm)

Who should I encounter at the entrance but fellow LDNorthEast board member, and volunteer Mr Treasurer.  It was so nice to speak to him in the flesh rather than via Zoom.

We washed our hands at the twin basins installed in the entrance to the maternity wing and followed the arrows on the floor to the Covid Hub where we picked up the consent form, information leaflet and hospital grade facemask, and made our way to the end of the socially distanced queue.  Like everyone else we occupied ourselves reading the leaflet and filling in the form (remember to take a pen when it’s your turn) as we slowly progressed the corridoor.

I was pleasantly interrupted by an “Eee Hellooah, fancy seeing you here”; the old Geordie greeting on unexpectedly meeting an old friend.

It was one of my co-knit’n’natter volunteers, a lovely lady, a retired nurse like Middlesister, on her way to the end of the queue.  What with Ferretfingers’ ankle and her shielding I don’t think we’d seen each other for a twelvemonth.

Naturally as I reached the door of the Hub my mobile crowed: yet another Virgin callcentre girl wanting to make me a special offer. 

“No, I can’t talk now, I’m waiting in line for a Covid vaccine” is not the usual reason for ringing off but it may become more common.

The clerk checked my name and date of birth on her computer and Mr Treasurer and I were told to sit.  After a few minutes he was sent to sit outside one nurse’s room, and then I to another.   

Before long my nurse came for me.

The paperwork was done and

“Just a sharp scratch”

“Oh!”

“All done.”

“My! That was quick!  It was even more painless than the flu jab!”

Then I was sent to the 15minute sitting room, the way pointed out by smiling staff.

Mr Treasure was already there with two empty seats near him. A few minutes later 

Mrs Knit arrived and we sat and nattered until it was time to go home.

Everyone leaving the room scrupulously wiped their chairs, which I found quite touching.

On our way out we met the lovely LDNE lady who organises Ferretfingers’ respite weekends, and the activities organiser, on their way in.  Who would have thought it would be a red letter day to speak to four people outside your household, in the real world?  Even if you were all wearing facemasks and keeping six feet away from each other..

Chatting over the day in bed I told Fester how well organised it was, how pleasant all the staff, and how lovely it had been to see real people.

His comment …

“Well at least you got a trip out today, which is good.”