Thursday September 30, 2004
‘Flu jab day, my first here in Lincolnshire. Another year, another jab, a new doctor, and a different nurse.
“Hold still,” she said. “Just a little prick.”
“Oh, come on, you didn’t even feel that.”
“No, of course not. You’re very good.”
“Why the ‘ouch’, then?”
“Just so’s you don’t get too confident.”
“Cheeky blighter. Off with you, and get your cup of tea.”
“Thanks. You really are very good, you know.”
“Yeah. I know.”
I had black coffee instead of tea and, since they were on offer and included in the price, two Lincoln biscuits of minimum size. I don’t take sugar in my coffee but I felt that a small sugar burst was in order after being pricked. The tea room in the hall where the jabs were being done was bright, newly decorated and scrupulously clean. I like that. If they offered something other than full fat milk for the tea and coffee it’d be perfect.
No side effects this year apart from a slight squiffiness in the late afternoon which I cured by taking a small extra nap.
“You coming along for a bonus nap, Harry?”
I took that to mean: “Yeah. Why not?”
Tea break, Spilsby