As expected, the first patient arrived early. This is a generation that loves to be in time.
He stood outside the gymnasium, taking shelter from the water under a portable gazebo. The day was miserable with the weather, but the feeling inside was much brighter.
His face was flushed with confusion, this would have been one of the few hours he had left the house in many months. But his expression changed when he recognized the experienced staff from our clinic and their enthusiastic expressions.
This was the first day of the Covid-19 vaccine program over 80, just before Christmas. The call to offer a date for the vaccination was beautiful for staff; obscenity and suspicion of social media instead of thanks from those who know nature could potentially save the life of this injection. They are people who have spent months sheltering, unable to see their loved ones. They know what illness and disability mean, and they do not want more of it than they need for the remaining years, thankfully.
By 9am there was a regular group of people entering the vaccination hall. The hustle and bustle in the hall coming from health workers covered in their blue scratches was almost too much for people who hadn’t seen even one person for months, as if they were emerging from sleep. winter.
cases in the UK
Some were pushed into wheelchairs by vigilant relatives, some kicked in by well-kept limbs, others thin and bent over. The lucky ones could pass for working age; the unfortunate moves with arthritis and muscle loss.
What emerged was that locking had not been kind to many: I could see old friends who had been older than just nine months, whose bodies and minds were not as sharp as they were, but as they progressed through the stages of the process, some of their previous energy returned.
The quips begin: “It’s good to see your doctor, you’re surprised you’re not too busy for this!”; “No thanks, doctor, I think I can get the specialist to give me the injection…”
He then proceeded to the next step: the observation room, with sports equipment stacked against a wall and a pattern of chairs with social distance instead.
A rare case of severe allergy required a 15-minute observation time. At first this looked like an organizational concern, requiring a large additional room. But then the sound of Christmas carols hit across the room, some patients getting the courage to intervene – unlike the observation nurse who doesn’t need any encouragement to break into a song. For others it was an opportunity to say hello to an old friend – over a 2-meter gap of course. All combined with a freezing winter wind to cool the room.
As they were leaving, volunteers in hi-vis vests met the patients with a big smile: “How was that? To whom the answer was universally effective: “Wonderful, love”; “Very effective”; “Better than the army!”
At the end of the day, when the last person seen went to “Merry Christmas! ”, The team gathered in the gym. A big smile came over the room and we took out a few warm bottles of prosecco and plastic cups.
Everyone was happy and relieved. The day had gone efficiently, without many bumps. One woman had accompanied her son, who was conspicuous: “She was affected by penicillin in 1950, giving some details. ”With extreme caution, we put on our medical detector hats:“ Did you have to go to the hospital? ”; “Did your lips rise?” ”
We concluded that the benefits far outweighed the risks, with the clincher reminding her son that the vaccination could mean she would see her granddaughter again. I kept an extra eye on her throughout her trip and she was absolutely right. After her immune system has done the amazing job, she may be close to seeing her granddaughter in 2021.