The Quest by Kerry Fender.

At the start of the Easter holiday, we embarked on the biannual quest to get the Covid booster for Freddie. People with Down’s Syndrome generally have a weakened immune system and are more susceptible to infection, especially respiratory infections. During the pandemic they were designated a clinically vulnerable group, declared eligible for the Covid vaccine once it became available and, latterly, for certain treatments to be administered in hospital ASAP upon a positive PCR test.

At a time when the NHS is under so much pressure and struggling to cope, and when falling vaccination rates have seen a resurgence of diseases we thought we’d seen the last of, it would make sense, surely, for any vaccination program to make it as easy as possible for anyone willing to be vaccinated to get the jab: to prevent disease spreading and to prevent people ending up in our already beleaguered hospitals. But no. The process of getting a jab for Freddie is protracted, stressful and frustrating, with no small element of uncertainty, false starts and thwarted hopes. Quest does not seem an inapt word to use.

Last year it went like this:

I received a text from the GP surgery advising Freddie was eligible for the jab and inviting us to book an appointment, which I did.

I prepared Freddie, explaining why it was necessary and what would happen.

On the morning of the appointment I received a phone call advising that his appointment had been cancelled as he was under 18 and they didn’t have the correct vaccine.

I’d also had a text from NHS 119, so I followed the link to book an appointment only to discover that the nearest place offering the vaccine was nearly 19 miles away. I don’t have a car. Luckily, they were offering appointments on a Saturday so my husband could take us.

I prepared Freddie again.

On the day of the appointment, I got a very reluctant Freddie out of bed at sparrow’s fart on a Saturday morning, to make sure we got to the clinic in good time.

We arrived promptly at the clinic … only to be told that in their view he is not eligible because he is not on immunosuppressant drugs and shouldn’t have been offered an appointment. Tried to explain about Down’s Syndrome and lowered immunity but they wouldn’t budge.

Took a very confused Freddie back home and tried not to catch Covid.

Our quest resumed in October, when the autumn boosters came due. The NHS text came first. We were advised that the nearest clinic that could vaccinate him was a walk-in about three miles away. We waited in a queue that snaked out along the pavement outside only to be told, when our turn came, that they weren’t able to give the jab to under-18s as they didn’t have the correct vaccine. Contacted 119 again and accepted an appointment at a pharmacy 15 miles away, which, they assured me, would be able to do him. Once again, I prepared Freddie.

On the day, the road to the pharmacy was closed, which didn’t bode well, but when we finally accessed the place, they were lovely, did Freddie without question and offered the jab to me and my husband, too, saying they often had left over vaccine at the end of a session which would then have to be discarded – rather than waste it, they preferred, when the opportunity arose, to give it to people whose circumstances might make them, or someone close to them, more vulnerable. As it happened, me and my husband both meet the eligibility criteria, had both been invited to book an appointment, and had both been turned away from our appointments by vaccination staff who seemed to have decided quite arbitrarily that we did not meet their interpretation of the rules. So we accepted their offer.

When the whole rigmarole began again this spring, the GP surgery once again booked us an appointment only to cancel it on the day.

Sadly, that lovely, common-sense pharmacy where we’d had it done in the autumn weren’t on the NHS 119 list of sites offering the jab. The nearest bookable appointments this time were over 25 miles away. I looked for a local walk-in, but only two were offering jabs for 16-18-year-olds. Rang first one, then the other, to check times and days of the vaccination sessions, only to be told by both that they did not know they were supposed to be giving jabs to that age group and didn’t have the correct vaccine.

I went back online and booked an appointment at a pharmacy 25 miles away, rang them to check that they DID have the correct vaccine for under-18s, then rang 119 again to double-check that we wouldn’t be turned away on the grounds of eligibility. They weren’t sure and advised me to take a letter from the GP confirming he is eligible.

I rang the surgery and they agreed to send it to me as an email to save time.

I prepared Freddie again. He was not happy. In the interim he has developed needle-phobia due to an incident when he was in hospital. I promised him EMLA cream, a ‘blindfold’ (sleep mask) and a McDonalds lunch if he got it done.

On the day, I got him up at sparrow’s fart on a Saturday (again) to put the cream on. We drove round and round an unfamiliar area until we located the tiny pharmacy (luckily spotting a McDonalds nearby which we pointed out to Freddie). We walked in holding our breath, expecting to be turned away, but after a bit of thought they accepted the email and gave him the jab. The quest was over … for another six months, anyway.

Who knows where it will take us next.