alisonlittleblog

The Jab

After most of what appeared to be endless holdbacks; I was eventually invited, via a linked text message, to book for the initial jab of the covid vaccine.

Ensuing a taxing, to understate, twelve months: suffering from coronavirus early in the first wave, losing my partner to the virus, a reassurance, then a second bout of the damned infection, I had been eagerly awaiting a call up. At forty-one I appeared to be at the younger, therefore later, end of my age category. With no underlying health issues my wait seemed to have been extended beyond the norm, would I ever be called?

Informed by others to contact my surgery as they were likely to have surplus vaccines available, but I opted to wait until requested. Jumping the queue just doesn’t seem very British and I was a little concerned that I may be taking from others with more preeminent health concerns.

Ellation gained momentum as I moved online to book at, would you believe, the Kenny Dalglish stand of the Liverpool Football Stadium. This made a hit, Dave my partner, had been a major Red and Dalgluish was one of his favored managers. A presence of him looking out for me now he was no longer with us. 

A sun drenched Sunday, setting off on time and arriving a tad early. Despite having mislaid my mobile phone with booking details the steward ushered me swiftly through to the central stand. Everything then ran with the utmost precision, very brief queues, obligatory questions then a painless little tingle of a jab.

Minor concerns over the jab being referred to as the ‘Oxford’,  at this point I was suspecting this was the AstraZeneca vaccine and the staff had been guided to state Oxford over the ever emerging bad press around the second vaccine to be approved in the UK.

Although I had been warned of side effects by the nurse, nothing made itself known. Only a subtle dead arm of no real significance, I was fine. 

1:30 AM

THEN IT STRUCK

Bolt awake

Breathless

Heart pulsing

A barrage of thoughts racing through my mind

Face muscles feeling like they’ve been smashed off a wall.

‘This is it again.’

I recalled previous attacks of covid.

Rising after the sleepless ordeal, heart pounding rapidly, headache traversing the skull. 

Opted to call it a sick day.

Per contra, short lived, by 9AM I was fine to start work, online, no problems. A slight head throbbing re-engaged with my brain, however, easily beaten by paracetamol. Arm felt like a safety pin had been inserted each side of the injection, then an elongated triangle running downward of surface dead cells. 

That was that!

A mini covid experience from the vaccine. Although unpleasant, a minor ailment in comparison to the virus: full blown.