The injection.

Wednesday morning. I show up at 8:29 for my 8:30 shingles injection. The efficient woman at reception takes my details and sends me off down a long , brightly lit, corridor to see a nurse. Angus notes that new luridly blue plastic chairs have been acquired since his last visit in January.  Within four minutes my identity is checked, my history updated and the second injection given by a proficient young woman wearing what appear to be purple pyjamas. I barely feel the needle go in and inform her that she's a skilled injection giver. She laughs politely at this but clearly thinks I'm from the same school of idiocy as the man on his Golfymoon. The NHS gets a well deserved 10/10 for efficiency.

While waiting for 'The Font' to drive back from Marks and Spencers to collect me - " You're bound to be waiting for at least half an hour so I'll go shopping " - I have a cup of tepid coffee from a machine next door to the renal unit. 

A nurse stops to check on me . " You ok Love ?" . She asks this in a matronly way that makes it clear anyone sitting on their own drinking a coffee in the cafe by the renal unit isn't at all ok. We have a wee blether during which she looks at me intently and asks me if I've come far. For a moment I have the uncomfortable feeling she's about to ask me how many fingers she's holding up. The nurse tells me that feeling absolutely drained for two or three days after a shingles vax isn't unusual . 

Normal service will resume tomorrow after a few more restorative naps and the consumption of lots of Paracetamol. 'The Font' returns from the morning walk on the beach with the news that both the lady with the Pomeranian and Archie the arthritic labradors owner have had their shingles vax with absolutely zero side effects.