NOW THAT REMINDS ME...
I received a phone call early last week from my local health centre informing me that I was being offered the chance to be vaccinated against this 'ere Covid virus. My appointment was for Sunday the 31st January, five days after the call. I was impressed and thanked the lady for her courtesy. I noted the time in my virtually unsullied diary - 6.50pm - and wrote alongside 'Lakeside Club'. Now, the Lakeside Club, or 'Potters' is where Darts competitions take or took place. Not being a fan of the 'hobby' or 'leisure interest' - you can hardly call it a sport - I recalled the times that a small group of us in the 70's and 80's would make the ten minute journey to Frimley Green and partake in a 'Chicken in the Basket' meal whilst awaiting the entertainment that took to the stage some time later. There was, I suspect some form of entertainment leading up to the very reason you were there in the beginning, but it certainly wasn't memorable. I remember seeing Les Dawson there once. He took to the floor, picked up the mic and wiped his hand across his face. He said absolutely nothing, but it was his timing. The hall erupted in laughter. he told jokes, he told stories, he played the piano - badly and well. I cannot remember how long his act was, but I do remember hoping he would finish as my sides were aching to the point of discomfort. Yes, he was that good.
At 6.15pm last Sunday evening I set sail... well I turned the ignition on in the Kia and sallied forth to my northerly destination. I was met in the rain by a very pleasant lady who directed me to a parking spot before pointing the way to the main entrance. Cheerful lady after cheerful lady took my temperature, confirmed my address, another checked my appointment time before a finger pointed to a free chair tucked around the corner. There seemed to be about ten doctors and paramedics all seated at socially distanced stations with willing participants called forward by yet another smiley person.
I was called forward and after a few further checks and advice on 'Do's and Don'ts' post-injection it was a case of 'Left shoulder Forward'. Not even an 'Ouch', didn't feel a thing. Bidding the lady with the power of life over possible death 'Goodbye' I made my way to the stage area where everyone takes fifteen minutes out in order to check that they are not suffering from a reaction to the injection. Incidentally the lady with the syringe mentioned that I was being given the English Oxford variety. Possibly slightly presumptuous, but I'd assumed that it would naturally be provided to all Surrey residents. After all, when God created Earth he used Surrey as his starting point, it was all downhill from there on - Joke!! (NOT about G starting in Surrey but the very idea that there is a God!!)
It never occurred to me that I might be feeling any after-effects until I followed the 'Way Out' signs and found myself opening a cupboard door and mingling with a gaggle of mops and their appropriate buckets. Apparently it was the NEXT door on the right!
I drove home thinking of the wonderfully efficient service everyone had provided with grace, manners and not a little humour. There was even a lady sat on the stage overseeing the volunteers charged with wiping down the seats we had sat on for that fifteen minute 'Recovery Period'.
It's so refreshing to be proud of one's country for once. So pleasing to see that when the chips are down and it's a case of 'All hands to the deck' we can actually pull it off... even more satisfying of course when you read of Europe's little distribution problem. I shall sit quite smugly as the autocrats in Brussels point fingers, play the 'Blame Game' and ponder as to who follows the UK out of the EU!
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