Dear Regular Newsletter Readers,
I hope when this edition of our newsletter lands in your inbox it finds both yourself and your computer in good working order.
Well, it seems that we’re all now gradually getting our Covid vaccinations, I had my second jab (Pfizer) about 10 days ago and after reading what other people had been through after having their second jabs I was somewhat dreading the after effects of having it. By all accounts, a higher than usual temperature, aches and pains, some nausea and a headache seem to be the order of the day in terms of typical side effects; however, I guess I was lucky as I suffered very little. Apart from feeling a bit lethargic for a day or so and the area where I had the jab (upper left arm) feeling a bit sore, I experienced no other side effects. My wife on the other hand didn’t fair quite as well and I; she had her second jab (Moderna) yesterday and all the side effects I mentioned that I didn’t suffer with she has suffered with and, although her temperature has come down from 37.8.°C to just below 37°C she still has a headache, muscle pain and generally feels quite washed out with herself. The thing is, we’re all a bit different when it comes to how our bodies react to things like having vaccinations and also our ability to fight off diseases when such things seek us out; it’s just a case of accepting it for what it is and going through whatever level of discomfort we all individually have to go through until we’re back to feeling ourselves again.
Just for posterity, I’ve put together one or two lines of poetry below just to reflect on what my experience was like of having the first jab. Until next week, stay safe and if you’re scheduled to go for your first or second Covid jabs, I suggest you go and get it over and done with and then prepare yourself to suffer the consequences of dealing with the side effects, whatever they may be.
My first Covid jab
I had my first Covid jab in a local community sports hall,
it was a little difficult to find but I found it after all.
A man on the roadside shouted to me to keep to the right as I made my way up the hill to the hall.
Greeted at the entrance with a hello and a digital thermometer aimed directly at my head, the
thermometer read 36.4°C which is about normal for me.
I was then instructed to take off my shoes and given a plastic bag to put them in.
I joined a line of other plastic bag holding jabees patiently waiting to register their attendance.
I wasn’t waiting for long before my registration number was called out.
I was shepherded by a woman to another woman sitting at a desk.
I was asked for my name, my temperature reading and some form of identification.
I was told to fill in a questionnaire in a language I neither read nor write well.
Another woman helped me to provide this requested written information.
I once more returned to the woman sitting at the desk and handed her my questionnaire.
She checked it through with barely an acceptable amount of interest, diligence or care.
The woman sitting at the desk kept the questionnaire and informed me that I’d finished my registration.
She then told me to move to the makeshift vaccination station set up in the middle of the hall.
I followed her instruction and upon arrival I was immediately called into the station and told to sit and wait for my vaccination.
It wasn’t long before I was handing over my registration documents to the jabber’s assistant.
After being asked for my name, which I gave, and whether or not I had any allergies to which I replied “No.”
The assistant told me to go and sit in the jabber’s chair and fully roll up my shirt sleeve which I normally wouldn’t struggle to do.
But it was a hot day, my arm was sweaty and my shirt sleeve did not seem to want to be rolled up to the required height,
with one last pull I said to the jabber “Is that okay for you?” and she gave me a nod of approval.
The jabber looked at me and said “Alcohol okay?
Not alcohol to drink to numb the pain, but to rub my arm with before jabbing me to keep germs at bay.
I so wanted to reply “Thank you, but for me it’s a little early in the day.”
But I didn’t because she wouldn’t have gotten the joke anyway.
With the alcohol question answered I was efficiently jabbed and with shirt sleeve rolled back down I was directed to another station.
I was told by a woman sitting at what turned out to be the resting station desk to stay and rest for 15 minutes
and if I was okay after that then I could get on my way.
I was given some more forms and told to return for my second jab 3 weeks from today.
With my rucksack on my back and my shoes in my hand I was shown to the 15 minute resting place.
I joined a lot of other people sitting on folding chairs set 2 metres apart from each other.
Some were waiting patiently for their 15 minutes to expire, only very occasionally did they look at the clock on the wall.
Some, like me, clock watched with great intensity from minute 1 to minute 15.
A woman walking around wiping chairs with disinfectant in between bottoms vacating and occupying them stopped to pass the time of day with me.
I learned she was a vaccination centre volunteer and that her regular job was a foreign tourist guide which explained her English fluency.
As soon as my 15 minutes was up I picked up my belongings and quickly made my way across the floor back to the sports hall entrance door.
I would be back here again in 3 weeks for my second jab.