Hello. Hope you are all well. How was your week? Been anywhere nice? No, thought not. It seems to be a feature of this lockdown that we are all a bit fluffy and vague than we have been up to now. and struggling to get anything done? No? Just me then.
All our drama this week has been around vaccinations. Firstly, we received a phone call offering vaccination to Aged Parent. I didn’t want to turn it down because we had already refused one because HOH and I were both working and we couldn’t get her there. Also, I kept thinking that people would think it was a very subtle assassination attempt if I kept turning it down. I was dreading it because it would have meant me driving to meet her and then getting on our vaccination minibus. (we are running trips to the vaccination centres for those struggling on their pins and with parking spaces), queuing to get into the hall and then dealing with the inevitable drama that would follow the actual injection. (Arrrrgh! That REALLY hurt!). However, just when my nervous breakdown was reaching a crescendo, we had a call from Mum’s supported living flats telling us that a vaccination team was coming into the building next week to do all the residents and staff and wouldn’t that be better for AP? YES! And they say there isn’t a God. Obviously, I snatched their hands off. AP wasn’t that happy that she wasn’t going to get to leave the building. “I was going to put my rollers in!” but life is full of disappointments. So hopefully all will go well with the best possible scenario being that AP gets a vaccination that keeps her safe and people who are called to be carers as a life choice get to deal with someone who is going to enjoy her day in the limelight – whatever it takes – and I don’t have to! Win. Win. As the young people say.
I also had my first vaccination today. (It’s to do with my employment. They are trying to stop us from passing on anything nasty to the old people we work with). All seemed very well organised. We all queued for a long time but it moved very quickly. I would say that an extra hand would be helpful. I was struggling to hold my i.d., my driving licence, the paper you had to fill in, balancing my glasses on my head, stopping my mask from pinging off and generally holding it together while it poured down. (As far as I could see no-one in the queue had thought to bring a brolly). However, once inside, it all seemed to go well. There were several medium-sized crises because none of us had brought a pen and the gentleman in front of me decided he was unhappy that other people were unhappy about that.
“No-one told us to bring a pen! I am reading the form here and I have seen it on Spotlight news and it says nothing about pens.”
Nurse/admin type person – ignoring him completely – shouts down the line.
“And can you please make sure you write legibly otherwise we can’t read your forms and you won’t get a call back for your second vaccination!”
This is too much for the man in front who, having purloined a pen is now struggling to fill his form in by lifting one leg up and writing using his thigh as a makeshift table – fairly unsuccessfully.
“And just how are we supposed to do that? Have you tried filling a form in on your backside? (inaccurate and frankly physically impossible but he was worked up).
The nurses in the actual vaccination pods were helpful and kind and I was very proud of myself because I held it together and to all outside appearances appeared to be a normal person. (Remind me one day to tell you about him much I struggle with any kind of medical intervention since my illness – much to the surprise of the dental hygenist who looked down to see me crying silent tears because she had to give me a small injection). All went well and despite how painful my arm is, I am being a brave soldier because I am very grateful for the kindness and straight-up genius of the people who have got us to this place.
Anyway, all I have to do now is wait for the second dose which, by my calculations, should be done around May 2023. It’s all going very well.