Me and the Pharma II:Pharma in the City.

I'm double vaccinated! Yes! I am now free to go out and cough all over people, lick railings, snog strangers, and party like a man half, ok - a third, of my age.

Except, of course, I'm not - and I have no desire to do any of those things either. Most of them lost their appeal to me years ago, some never appealed, and I'm sure the incessant urge to lick each and every railing I see will go away eventually. 

It's certainly been good to have a year off. Of course, all that's really happened is that I have done what everyone in the country (and world - if they get the opportunity) should do - and, thankfully, almost everybody is. I had the second part of a jab which hugely decreases my chances of catching Covid-19 and, in doing so, far more importantly, hugely decreases my chances of spreading Covid-19.

You don't need me to tell you that. In truth, the second jab, like the second lockdown, was a lot less exciting than the first. That could be because the novelty factor had worn off (how quickly we tire of new things) or it could be because a bout of residual gout still lingering around in my foot made my journey down to the Tessa Jowell Health Centre in East Dulwich a little more arduous than it should have been.

En route, I'd popped in to the infamous Wood Vale Supermarket for a packet of Nurofen Express and necked a couple of braces of them before limping, slightly, to Underhill Road. Aware that my slow progress was risking me being late for my appointment, I was pleased to see the P13 bus coming along. 

So I masked up (obviously - but you have to specify it or some nosy parker will assume you haven't) and hopped on it. A short ride down to Lordship Lane, a short walk to the Tessa Jowell, and I was there fifteen minutes early. I took my jumper off to save time during the whole jabbing business and I entered the reception area of the health centre where I was given a sort of raffle ticket (no.447 - it looked lucky to me) and told to sit down.

If I'd been there earlier in the day, perhaps I'd have been treated to a recital by the City of London Sinfonia as advertised (I find needles slip much easier in to the arm when accompanied by the soothing sounds of a Bruckner motet) but instead all I had to listen to was a man shouting loudly, through his mask, into a mobile phone.

Eventually I was called and told to go upstairs in the lift to .... another waiting room. Another ten minutes and ..... a third waiting room. This wasn't the wham bam thank you mam experience of my first jab. They were making an afternoon of it. I didn't mind. It wasn't like I had anything more important on.

Eventually I got the call and a nice Irish nurse called Shonagh asked me a few brief questions before sticking a second shot of AstraZeneca in my arm. First jab, I felt nothing. This time I did feel a little prick (no jokes please) but it wasn't painful. Shonagh and her unnamed colleague said this may be because they were using slightly blunter needles (!) than before but, hey, that was it job done. Except to inform me that I get a severe headache or start bleeding from parts of the bodies I don't normally bleed from (!) I should inform a doctor.

I asked Shonagh how many jabs she averaged a day and she estimated that, today at least, she was doing five hundred. That's a shift however you slice it and perhaps explains why I didn't get a sticker this time.

I did, however, get a pint. It seemed a bit early for Kebab & Wine (one for the ol' ED gang there) but the EDT (East Dulwich Tavern) was open and fairly empty so I popped in, had the pint I'd been promising myself - Estrella, had a read of my book, and felt generally happy with the way everything had panned out.

Once again, I thank the NHS and the volunteers for making this such a smooth, painless, and impressive experience. As I walked home, my gouty limp started to improve - and with the next leg of the Capital Ring due this Saturday that was something of a relief. If nowhere near as much of a relief as it is to be fully vaccinated. This summer may be an unusual one in many ways - but bring it on.