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All vaxxed up and nowhere to go

Spellcheck doesn’t like ‘vaxxed’. It insists on putting little red dots underneath the spelling and inviting me to change it to ‘vexed’. How vexatious!

But, this is the new normal – ‘vaxxed’ is becoming part of our daily conversation. I am now proudly telling people that I am ‘fully vaxxed’, as I have been fortunate enough to receive my second jab earlier than expected. Who knows whether that will make it more, or less, effective than waiting the full 12 weeks, but I was happy to accept a cancellation at short notice even though it meant travelling to the other side of the borough to get it. It was administered in a warren of an old-fashioned GP practice which had been accessorised by a couple of mid-sized marquees in which we all had to wait the mandatory 15 minutes after our jabs. There was some sort of system, but I didn’t seem to be part of it – I somehow blundered into one of the tents and stayed there voluntarily for 10 minutes (because I insist on lying down for the injection itself and then waiting – still lying down – for a few minutes before gently sitting up, so I have already completed the first five minutes before releasing myself to the waiting room. My request to lie down was met with bemusement at both vaccinations, but this second time the nurse seemed completely nonplussed and, I felt, slightly antagonistic, although ultimately obliging. It was the end of the day – she was almost certainly just counting down until she could go home).

As before, I have suffered no side-effects apart from a slightly tender upper arm for a  day or so. I seriously wonder whether it’s doing anything at all. I took an antibody test last week (before the second vaccination) for the purposes of research for UK Biobank, and it seems I had no perceptible antibodies to Covid. My husband had the same result. Weird, although we are told not to be concerned about it. Still, I’ve done my bit now. I’ll try not to let it go to my head and make me careless.

Chance would be a fine thing though. I feel completely listless today, after my burst of theatre booking. I’ve been pottering in the garden, and realising how clumsy I truly am. It’s a wonder I achieve anything practical at all. I look at what I’m trying to achieve, and it’s as though my hands are being operated by some blind bystander who’s been asked to do a very slightly different task. Ah well, I expect some of the plants will survive.

I was pleased to be asked to do another delivery on one of my regular routes to the Park, but once I got going I realised I had no energy at all and it was as much as I could do to put one foot in front of the other. I suppose I must be exaggerating because I ended up covering five miles all the same, but it was not as enjoyable as it should have been.

I wonder if it has anything to do with there being nothing in the diary until May? Yes, I have booked several things and there are dinners, plays and a Cornwall trip to look forward to, but they still seem a long way away. 

Gawd, I think I need to stop this and wait until I can write something more upbeat!

I’m going to break open a chorizo ring for supper. That’s today’s excitement right there.

Just thought – maybe the torpor is a ‘vaxxing’ side-effect.

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