Jabbed!

I walk past the Pharmacy, past the Waikanae Health Centre displaying a sign with two huge arrows outside its door, towards the “Specialist Centre.” This facility is used as consulting rooms for various migrant medical specialists, who leave their practices in Wellington City to attend Waikanae patients on specific days of the week.

I glance at the reminder notice which advises that my appointment has been booked for 11:09. My watch reads 11:00 am.

Good timing, mind.

I open the large glass swing door. About 40 pairs of eyes follow my every movement. There are both men and women, warmly dressed, seated on the rows of blue upholstered chairs, like a provincial clinic. Most of those seated are either grey or bald. A number of the ladies are wearing scarves, like our grandmothers used to do.

In earlier years, I may have felt a bit awkward under such circumstances, but I simply walked over to the reception counter, smiling, as if knowingly, at a couple of the lookers. Most looked away.

No, I was on time, the elderly red-head receptionist advised, but there had been a bit of a hold-up earlier, so things were running a bit late.

Please take a seat and you will be called when its your turn.

I clambered over a few sets of outstretched legs to reach the solitary vacant chair in the far corner. The coffee tables had no coffee but there were piles of back copies of Weekend Gardener. At least my additional waiting time could be productive, I mused.

Every few minutes, a lady in medical attire appeared at the end of the room and called someone’s name. Generally she would have to repeat her plea, as it appeared that many in the audience were a bit hard of hearing. Closer to 11:30 , my turn eventually arrived and I was whisked down the short corridor and into a large consulting room.

I was greeted and asked whether I have any allergy to eggs. I wanted to advised her that I am not keen on over-boiled and prefer soft boiled. Given the fact that she was running late, had obviously had to deal with a whole gang of old farts already, and was probably doomed to attend to quite a few more this morning, I chose the sensible reply.

She nodded and gave me the choice: “Right or left arm? I will do this right at the top.”

Thirty seconds later, I was back in the waiting room. I had been instructed to remain there for 20 minutes, in case I developed any serious allergic reaction to the immunisation.

Pregnant women, people over the age of 65 and those with ongoing conditions such as asthma, diabetes or heart problems are eligible for free influenza vaccinations.

I am still Ok writing this post, so you can deduce that I suffered to initial setbacks. Thank you New Zealand Health Ministry.