Royally Vaccinated

Tranquil, surreal, splendid, hugely impressive, a collaboration of the highest order.

This is how I experienced my first dose of vaccination. If there would be ever something positive to be remembered about the ongoing pandemic it would be this. On a bright British summer evening, I was royally vaccinated.

Like everyone else in the UK, I waited for my turn to receive email, text and postal invitation to book for my first dose of vaccination appointment. The first invitation in the year where I was eagerly waiting for my turn, when it arrived it passed all the British standards. First and email and then a text to inform me that am now eligible to make the booking at the given centre on the date and time of my choice. After selecting from a tight slot of 10 mins each I made the booking. Unlike all the appointments post lockdown – Library, Printing, restaurant booking and Haircut this was very smooth.

I received my postal invitation a few days later with a small booklet of instructions and what happens next. I was floored by the details fit for any layman from what is COVID, what is vaccination, what will happen on the day, what symptoms to expect and what to do if something feels wrong. The basic instructions were translated into 20 languages given the diverse demographic. The amount of effort to write, print, distribute the correct information to the public at government expense stunned me.

After waiting for days for the appointment date and having heard numerous stories of post-vaccination from friends and family across the world, I knew what to expect. But like many other things, the British never fail to surprise me especially when things are normal and obvious. So, on a wonderful bright summer evening, sun in the blue sky, rare here, I embarked on my short journey of seven minutes by bus to the designated centre.

Like many things the boards and notices are all over the place, I liked the one shared here, in particular, time to ponder.

The bus driver was excited that I was up for vaccination and took time to explain to me where to get down how to walk towards the centre and how to return to the stop. She wished me luck and so did I, as was informed hers was the next day. I like the eagerness and sense of responsibility the pandemic has bought.

After getting down, I walked a short distance my first surprise was the road sign directing the traffic to the vaccination centre, felt familiar and safe as it was put up by the company I work.

A little further a small queue for 3-4 cars was guided by three traffic minders. From here, started my royal tour to the centre. I was politely greeted, enquired if it was time for my appointment and then escorted to the building. By now, I had seen five signboards and three volunteers, I greeted few more traffic minders and went towards the entrance. Here I was greeted by an elderly charming volunteer, handing over sanitizer, ensuring I rubbed my hands, asking few basic questions and instructing what happens next.

One of the instructions was to read the notice board, the last thing people notice. It said, ‘If you have any past experience of fainting, please do let us know.’ I was about to faint looking at the systematic arrangements inside the hall anyways, I had to resist the urge to click a snap, after reading a small ‘No Photography’ notice.

I then waited in the queue of four to get my barcode and confirm my personal details. Yet again, a kind and chirpy volunteer escorted to Team 3, chair 6 location and was asked to be seated, of course the chair and a small board next to it were sanitized right before me. ‘We do what we say we do’ was running in the back of my mind. Was informed that I will be attended in two minutes. Each team had 6 chairs facing each other’s back divided by screens and was headed by two nurses. All 30 people were vaccinated at a given time maintaining all the social distance right to the last meter.

A very sweet and beautiful elderly nurse came forward with her standing laptop station, greeted me warmly, checked my barcode, and completed short formalities. We chatted for a minute when an even more beautiful and lovely nurse came with the medical station, she enquired about the health and took time to explain in detail on the vaccine I was administered that day and what would happen next. Our trio chatted and had a good laugh right from names, British weather, and the whole situation. Even before I realized she had done her job leaving me surprised. I told them that this was the best vaccination experience in my living memory with another round of laughter. I was royally handed over my card with a stamp, with a gracious invitation for the next dose with a little instruction, she noted the time on the small board stating when I could leave my seat. Too much to handle.

I was supposed to sit there for ten minutes to ensure there are no immediate side effects of the dose. Those ten minutes of silence and observation opened a new perspective for me. Firstly, I was not the only one treated this way, each person was treated equally with a smile, politeness, and respect. The atmosphere was orderly and chirpy. The small rooms in front of me were used for a stock refill and everything inside from oxygen cylinders to dustbins was in order. It was an hour on the clock, when a volunteer entered with a box of chocolates for all the nurses and fellow volunteers to ensure they are taken care of. I learned, they work in a shift of six hours with a break in between and with a round of chocolates every hour and of course a dose of laughter often. This was by far the best team effort and epitome of collaboration to execute a plan of action to recover from an international disaster, I ever saw or could comprehend.

My time was up, and a gracious volunteer asked me to proceed to the exit, my chair and the board cleaned after me for the next person.

At the exit, with a note on what to do for the second dose and a handy Taxi number just in case someone needs it, I was given sanitizer yet again, second in last twenty minutes, along my vaccination sticker and an even more gracious invitation to visit again.

The kind volunteer ushered me out of the door wishing me a safe journey back home to enjoy the rest of the evening. Back on the road the traffic minder wished me well and instructed me what to do in case I feel unwell on the way home, for seven minutes journey this was extravagant.

On my way back, reflecting on the past hour or so, I learned even in the worst of circumstances, discipline, politeness, and kindness make a sea of difference, I was indeed royally vaccinated.