Next week is definitely The Week Of Pain (TM). Aside from going to see the dentist on Wednesday, I’m now going to see the doctor on Thursday to receive jabs a plenty for my holiday: Hepatitis A, Tetanus, and one I can’t remember. The last time I had an injection was about eighteen years ago, so I have no idea whether I’m going to be nervous or absolutely fine. Hopefully the latter.
You may recall the problems I had in getting the answer as to whether I needed any injections at all. Thankfully my lovely wife Jo unleashed the smackdown on the phone to my doctor’s surgery after her own practice nurse rang to confirm what she’d need to have done, as it became very clear that I couldn’t just wing it without it being a risk.
Following a long conversation, during which she laid out the sheer ridiculousness of the receptionist claiming they couldn’t do anything because they have no childhood vaccination notes for me and their travel nurse is on holiday (“So when the nurse is on holiday, do you just expect everyone to go private?”), the receptionist eventually agreed to speak to the doctor on my behalf. Lo and behold, this morning she rang back to say that I should come in and have exactly the same jabs as my wife. Patient power!
Jo could probably persuade Bobby Charlton to move to Man City.