FLU JAB

I went for my flu vaccination today.

“First time for the flu jab?” asked the pharmacy nurse behind her mask. I nodded.

“Yeah," I said, as though acknowledging the fact that I am ageing and seem to need extra protection against influenza now. “Figured it was the right time.”

Then, quite suddenly, I went into an unexpected cold sweat.

It occurred to me that I’d never asked about this particular vaccination process, and now seemed like the absolute worst time to check. I don’t even know what I would have said, how I would have phrased the question. You see, it was dawning on me that I might be getting this injection… well… in the buttocks.

‘That is so irrational,’ said my brain, silently. ‘These things are always in the arms. Unless you’re a baby! It was the arms for Covid. And TB. And tetanus, you wolly. Erm. You have got clean pants on though, right?’

Aaagh. Shut up, brain. You’re not helping!

Don’t get me wrong; I’ve no problem with exposing a buttock or two to a medical professional. It was just that I needed to be prepared in my mind if that highly unlikely thing was going to happen in the middle of Boots the Chemist. I needed to be ready; you know, prepped in my mind. I can’t just be able to do a full Forrest Gump without some warm up time! And for a moment I was turning all kinds of temperatures in that little cubicle, imagining the worst.

“Roll up your sleeve then,” said she eventually, quelling my hot/cold flush. I dutifully did so and stared ahead, relaxing with relief, trousers on and full waist height.

A sharp mosquito-bite sensation, the sound of the syringe squelching, and she was dabbing the arm with cotton wool and sealing it with a brown plaster. Just like that I was safe against this year’s flu.

“It is sensible,” she said, “The flu virus can change every year so it’s best to be protected.”

I thanked her and then went to sit on a wooden chair by the pharmacy. She wanted to check I wasn’t having an allergic reaction. Fair enough. I waited there until she came out and told me to go home.