I got a COVID-19 vaccine.

5 min read.

It was last Thursday afternoon I got a phone call from my Health Centre Practice Manager apprising me of my turn to get Covid-19 vaccine. I was given the choice. Either I could get it on the same day at a Civic Centre which was about half an hour drive from our house, or at 9.50 am next day at the Civic Hall quite close to us.

I was eager for the call, which came out of the blue. In a state of admiration, I said that I would go to the Civil Hall next morning. To express my appreciation, I suggested to the Manager, albeit humorously:

” It’s a great news. I think I should go wearing a tie with a suit.”

She laughed and replied:

“It’s entirely your pleasure.”

Next morning my wife accompanied me to the Civic Hall. We were there at 9.25 am and parked the car in the Car Park. There were several volunteers to welcome us and to guide us to the venue where vaccinations were in progress.

While the wife waited in the car, I was led to the hall at 9.35 am. It looked that the NHS staff and the volunteers outnumbered the vaccine recipients. A suave gentleman welcomed me and asked my name. After I told him my name, he enquired:

“How’re you feeling?”

Borrowing the words used by PM Boris Johnson a few months back, I confirmed:

“I’m as fit as a butcher’s dog.”

“That’s very good. There’s no need to ask further questions”, he concluded.

He gave me a copy of the instructions to read after the inoculation with a card bearing my name.

After a couple of more minutes, I was ushered to one of the desks near by. Everybody, including the volunteers and vaccine recipients were strictly observing the social distancing rules. The floor was clearly marked to avoid any confusion.

At the desk, as instructed, I handed over the card to the girl sitting opposite to me. She asked my name, I replied jokingly:

“It’s there on my card”.

She added:

“I’ll appreciate if you tell me again”.

After that she asked me a few more questions.

Before she could end I sought clarification about the vaccine which I was getting. She told me that it was Pfizer.

I continued:

“When’s the next jab due?”

She told me twelve weeks.

I suggested merrily.

“You’re an officer of the NHS, is it not your discretion to give me three weeks appointment?”

She seemed unfazed and coyly responded that she had not been granted that much power.

I was then guided to the next hall where there were four inoculation cubicles. After a minute or two, I was welcomed by the nurse. She was very polite. I removed my coat and the sweatshirt. I rolled up my shirtsleeve. The jab was given.

Thanking the nurse, I said:

“I didn’t feel a thing.”

She replied with simper:

“Thank you”.

Clarifying the words which I had just used, I said:

” I haven’t borrowed the words ‘I didn’t feel a thing” from Vice-President Mike Pence, who used them on the 12th December after his inoculation, The fact is that I had applied them before while treating by the nurses.”

She thanked me again.

(Bearing in mind her precious time, I did not think it advisable to tell her that I had mentioned the fact of using the words ‘I didn’t feel a thing’ in my blog dated 4th September. The phrase has been used by many people in other contexts, but it appears that while being inoculated by a nurse it was used by me first.)

After the vaccination, I was led to the waiting area where I was directed to sit for fifteen minutes. I could see there oldsters and some youngsters.

I reached my car at 10 am. Everything happened so smoothly at a breakneck pace. As it stands, it looks that this time the government under-promised but is overperforming. But the jury is still out.

The wife offered to drive the car, but as I was perfectly well I drove home myself.

After about half an hour, telephone calls started pouring in from the family and the friends. Both the children and their spouses, being part of the front line NHS staff, had already been inoculated. The daughter had both the jabs. I assured them that I could not be better.

Before I conclude my this short post, I must add that unfortunately, there are some people of South Asian ethnicity who are shilly-shallying about having the jabs. Their doubts are misconceived and not tenable. They should snap up the invitations. This is the only way to eliminate the deadly and invisible virus for good. It would be very remiss of them to reject it.

---