The local medical practice was holding four vaccination sessions on different days, times and locations in my Mid Sussex area. I'd attended the Hurstpierpoint venue on both the previous occasions, and had found it absolutely packed, with very long queues. So this year I decided to go to either Hassocks or Ditchling. Hassocks at 3.00pm for two hours suited me best, so there I went. I deliberately turned up early. And just as well. Lots of other people had had the same notion, and the queues were already long. Thankfully, the staff administering the session had decided to begin half an hour sooner than scheduled, so the queues were moving forward.
I learned while chatting that eight hundred people had turned up on the previous Saturday morning at Hurstpierpoint, many of them in cars, and it had been impossible to park in that village. As I would have driven too, I was glad I didn't try to go there! You need to bear in mind that I don't live in a city, but in one of several local Mid-Sussex villages which between them provide most of the everyday facilities you need, but you do have to shuttle between them. And the local bus services are, on the whole, infrequent and inconvenient. (That's why I have spurned having a Bus Pass - it's useless where I live. A Senior Railcard, for occasional use, is much handier) So car travel is for me the practical option for all purposes - if you can park.
Anyway, my turn came, and it seemed they were keen to give me two jabs - this year's flu vaccination, plus a pneumococci vaccination. 'Cocci' means bacteria, and yes, this would be a one-off protective measure against infectious lung diseases. An extra insurance. Had I had one before? No. It would be a good idea to have one now then. I cheerfully agreed.
It was all efficiently done, although both jabs went into the same left arm. I'm not scared of needles, so I made a point of watching how it was accomplished. Quite fascinating really. I admired the obvious hygiene. And it was good to know that once vaccinated, I'd be able to fight off most bronchial infections, although I've never, in all my life, been prone to such things.
For the rest of that afternoon I felt fine, but by bedtime my left arm was starting to feel sore.
Next day the discomfort was greater, although I could still use my left arm normally. It was decidedly tender to the touch, however. By the early evening I felt hot and flushed, and disinclined to do anything too demanding, although I still ate a hearty meal. I popped a DVD into the machine - Riding Giants, the 2004 film about surfing, full of cold-water scenes - and watched that. The hotness gradually lessened, but when getting ready for bed I noticed that the skin around the injection sites was looking a bit pink.
Hmm. It didn't stop me sleeping though.
Next day - yesterday - that pinkness began to spread across my upper left arm, and it looked more intense. My arm felt even more sore. This was the position in the morning, soon after waking.
But I still didn't feel concerned. I felt assured - from a bit of Internet research - that it would all fade over the next few days, that it wasn't indicative of an abnormal allergic reaction, and that meanwhile I simply had to put up with it.
Still, I wondered whether it would interfere with my weekend plans. I decided not to go to pilates that morning. But I met my friends Jo and Sue for lunch. They didn't like the look of my arm at all. I stoutly maintained that all was well. It would all pass.
I felt fully up to the evening's charity quiz at the local heritage centre, but once there Jo became very concerned at the way the redness had advanced, most of my upper arm now being suffused by a well-defined patch of inflamed-looking skin. She marked the edge with a pen, and I had to admit it was spreading.
And by the end of the evening, I was feeling very tired too, more so than I'd expect. It was clear that the pinkness was still spreading down my arm in the direction of my elbow.
But I refused to share Jo's worries. Surely this was just evidence that my body was engaging with the vaccination, and producing antibodies as fast as it could. I didn't feel this was anything I needed to take back to the doctor, and certainly not to A&E.
And I think I was quite right. This morning, the arm was much less tender, and although the redness had leaked half and inch beyond Jo's pen-line, it was starting to fade. As for the tiredness, I'd slept over seven hours (two hours longer than usual) and actually felt quite chipper and alert.
End of a curious episode, I think. Curious because I don't normally have adverse reactions of any kind. Well, I don't need to have this particular vaccination again, only the flu jab next year.
