Second Jabs

The boys had their second inoculations on Friday morning: a benefit of being on our GP’s special needs list.   We were there at 9.15 for the 9.30 appointment/opening time.

 

There was a queue but it was all very well organised.  Apart from the fact that the clip-board ladies, one Mature and the other a Millennial, checking the names of people in the queue had been given lists not in alphabetical order.  They had  half a dozen A4sheets each to flip through to find people.

The Mature lady turned to the Millennial and said 

"Go to the computer and get these printed out in alphabetical order.  It'll take about 14 seconds to change them."

Millennial can't see how this will make any difference and says 

"But they're listed by appointment time!"

Mature lady "Yes, but people aren't arriving by appointment time.  It'll be easier and faster if even just the first names are in alphabetical order."

Millennial looks miffed but goes back in the centre.

 

Why did no-one have the sense to think to print the names in alphabetical order to make them easier to find?  Because there were a good half dozen vaccinators with people arriving and queuing at anything up to half an hour earlier than their appointment.

 

The ladies also handed out pre-printed vaccination cards so the medical staff didn’t have to faff about with writing them after the jab.

 

As usual Thunderthighs did the drama queen thing, wrapped his scarf around his eyes and was ow-ow-ow-ing well after the needle was removed.

He insisted on a plaster.

The nurse said "I haven't any plasters but you can have some cotton wool and tape."

By this time he was stood up; all 6 foot 3½ inches of him.

At 5 foot 3 she tapes the cotton wool as far up his arm as she can reach. 

He says “No.  Not there, you injected me further up.”

“I can’t reach that high now you’re standing up.”

He hunkered down and she (God bless her) stuck another lump of cotton wool higher up.

 

Ferretfingers, on the other hand, sat stoically silently watching, didn’t flinch and didn’t want any dressing.

 

When we got home Thunderthighs went immediately to the Elastoplast box in the kitchen and had his father replace the cotton wool dressing with the tiniest plaster we have.  Only Fester couldn’t see the puncture so put a plaster where both balls had been.

 

At tea time I asked Thunderthighs what his plans were for Saturday

“Feeling ill”.

 

Such an optimistic little soul.

(They were both fine with no side or after effects, thank you for asking)

Thunderthighs recovering at home after his first vaccination