London’s still

…a blog about an ordinary Australian living in London

Sore Arm Blues April 13, 2006

Filed under: Ramblings — Annaleis @ 2:07 pm

Yes, gracious audience, it’s that time of year again…Fluvax time!

As I sit here typing this post, sympathetic blogreader, I experience the dull thud accompanied by the occasional sting familiar to the arm that has been assaulted by the local GP.

It begins at 9am in the chemist shop right next door to the surgery. I walk in, and stand waiting, trying to look unafraid until an alert pharmacist spies my fidgeting hands.
“Oh, Annaleis, that’s right, Fluvax!” she dashes to the small fridge and fossicks around. The little box she produces has my name on it already. Gulp.

I pay for my medication, twenty two dollars. I console myself with the thought that this way is cheaper than buying tissues and strepsils for three months straight.


“Thanks,” I say, in the most light-hearted manner I could muster, and virtually skip out the door in glee, well, I tried to put a spring into my step anyway.
But it’s all a show, as you well know, avid reader. It may not seem like it, but underneath that cool calm exterior is…well, nothing much as this point but I’m trying to build suspense here, d’you mind?

In truth, I did have a little wonder whether at that very point in time I was carrying the very penetrative instrument that was to inoculate me against the ravages of influenza. The thought of it made me just a touch uneasy as I sat in the surgery waiting room, reading about Janet Jackson’s arse of gigantic proportions. It didn’t help take my mind off things, mind you. I caught myself wondering what sized needle they would use to penetrate her bum-flesh deeply enough to make any medication she needed effective.

“Annaleis, you’re up now dear.” That is the type of town I live in, where all the ladies I’ve known throughout my childhood can call me dear, simply because they’ve known me since I was in Kindergarten.
As it turns out, the little box I carried into the doctor’s office did hold the dreaded instrument of torture, and the torturer giggled (yes, we have a giggler) as he pinched the skin on my upper-arm and jabbed the pointy bit in. I can be grateful, for he is a swift jabber, but an evil giggler, and alas I gave him another opportunity to flaunt these talents mere minutes later.

To coincide with my trip to England I decided it best to be vaccinated against Hepatitis B in a timely fashion. He was very pleased with this, but though he expressed his disappointment when I asked for it in the same arm. He had hoped to see me leave that day being unable to move my arms at all, running around like Frank Woodley, limbs a-flailing as I ran comically to my car, and head-butting it in an attempt to open the door. Oh well, we can’t have everything, doctor 😉 .

He jabbed me again, this time with a bigger needle, about an inch above the first gaping wound he gave me, and I left, promising to let him have another go in a month’s time. You’ve gotta keep ‘em happy.

So now, I sit here, barely able to type using both hands, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make, for the sake of the bloglet, and indeed for humankind, especially for those people living in a place where they can get Fluvaxed. Come on people, I don’t want you sneezing on me even if I am immune. Just go and get one.

Orthomyoxvirus – The flu bug plushie, just so you know what you’re up against.


One Response to “Sore Arm Blues”

  1. Marcus Says:

    I bOught Sarah one of those plush toys for her birthday a year or two ago. hehe

    Poke (in the arm)

    Poke (in the arm)

    Poke (in the arm)

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