Day 623 – Too late

On the day that the news broke that 2 Pfizer jabs had very limited effect on the Omicron variant, but that 3 seemed to be pretty good (see the lilac bars here):

… our local medicines body, SAHPRA authorised a 3rd jab 6 months after the second.

For anyone below the age of 50 (or who was below the age of 50 at the time of their first jab), that means waiting – with very limited protection – until March next year. But which time this fourth wave will be just one more unpleasant memory. For those who survive*.

As I’ve mentioned on here, the shouts of ‘vaccine apartheid’ ring hollow as far as SA is concerned, but the government isn’t doing a lot to correct this narrative. Why? Well, lest we forget, they were the ones who started ordering vaccine stocks too late:

and they are the ones who are comprehensively failing to get what they have got into people’s arms:

Now, About 80% of the population who are eligible to have a vaccine (have to wait until well into the new year to get the much-needed third shot. While we slow down our orders because we have so much in stock.

The advanced muppetry continues in the clown farm.


* Is it me? Am I the drama? I don’t think I’m the drama.

Day 526 – Jab

I got jabbed again on Tuesday morning in a seamless process far removed from the disaster of our first Covid vaccination experience. In and out in 22 minutes.

I can totally recommend the Discovery on Main vaccination centre. Efficient, well-staffed, friendly, smiley.
Like an inverse Dischem.

Aside from the obligatory sore arm, I was pretty much fine until 30 hours in. Then, quite suddenly, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck – one carrying a cargo of sleeping tablets – and apart from a quick trip downstairs to eat something at some point, I basically managed to sleep from 2pm until 6 the following morning.
If that’s the only penalty for Covid immunity going forward, I’ll happily take it. Winning.

Feeling MUCH better yesterday morning and ready to take on the world, I foolishly took on the world. But my existing Covid, which I’m still slowly getting rid of, was wholly unimpressed and has reminded me of its ongoing presence. Head pounding, muscles aching, memory missing.
But another couple of extra hours in bed this morning (it really is like a reboot) and I’m getting back to where I was before Favour stuck a second needle in me a few days ago.

Back to the doctor next week then, when we’ll be able to definitively separate post-vaccination crappiness (which may already have have gone, but will certainly have gone by then) from actual Covid crappiness, and hopefully we can try to plan a route forward and out of this nonsense.

Onward. Upward. But with baby steps.

Day 523 – Hey, Gregory Kitching, I had my second jab!

Great news for everyone (but most especially Gregory Kitching), is that I had my second Pfizer jab this morning. Beagle-eyed readers with better memories than me might recall that I my first jab was also Day Zero of my Covid experience (it’s ok, Greg, it was unrelated to the jab). I’m fairly sure that, while there might be some mild side effects, I won’t be going through that again any time soon. Thank [Deity].

Today’s vaccination experience was so much nicer than the first. Warmer, quicker, friendlier, closer to home, SO MUCH better organised. 22 minutes in and out versus the 5 hours of sitting in a soulless, freezing cold warehouse last time. If you are in the Southern Suburbs (and I know that you’re not, Gregory Kitching, but do I have many other readers), I’d highly advise pre-booking a slot at the Discovery Vaccination Site in Newlands. Seamless and smooth.

Assuming you need a vaccination, of course. I don’t think you can turn up there just to spectate.
But then who would want to do that, anyway?

For those who are interested (probably including – but certainly not limited to – people like Gregory Kitching), my first vaccine batch number was FG3064, while my second was FG4421. I’m not sure how many doses are in a batch, but it’s certainly great news that they’ve got through 1,357 batches in just 6 weeks. I make that 226 batches a week or more than 32 a day. Amazing numbers hey, Gregory Kitching?

Oh, and on the subject of Gregory Kitching, he asks the following question:

No photo description available.

I do love your mask, Greg. Very cool.

However, unless anyone is enough of a moonbat to think that there’s some sort of nanobot or 5G chip in the vaccine, then this was clearly very much about the virus. Quite how you think 0.3ml of voluntarily-injected fluid could “control” someone is beyond me. Even the infamous “truth serum”, Thiopental Sodium needs 10x that amount (intravenously, nogal!) before it can have any effect, like making you admit that even though you try and portray an image of being a big, hard man, you’re actually a bit scared of needles and the ANC.

Not that I have any examples of anyone like that, of course.

Indeed. But let’s step back for just a moment.

The Epilogue:
While I can take a strong dislike to some people, I really wouldn’t wish Covid-19 on anyone at all. What it’s doing to people all over the world is truly awful, and at the moment, I wake up each morning knowing that I’m probably going to hear of another friends’ hurt at the loss of a family member.

But, if you look at the mask/hand image above and you answer with the lower legend, I’d strongly advise you to reconsider and go and have a look at this site, which is sadly full of stories of people just like you.

And sure, I know that I’m not going to change the minds of any dug-in, HARDCORE: I KNOW THE SCORE guys like Gregory Kitching, because even showing interest would be seen as “a sign of weakness”, but I’ve already managed to talk 6 ‘vaccine hesitant’ people into getting jabbed, and maybe I can add a few more to that.

It’s free, easy, pretty much painless and OH, SO WORTH IT!
Go get vaccinated today. Thank me later.