Tie up the knocker and say I'm dead.

Dear all, apologies for the lack of posting this week, I have been suffering from ill health. At times I've been wavering between a bright light at the end of a long tunnel and the manly need to call for a priest, minister, mullah, rabbi or mother. Yes, I've succumbed to the dreaded MAN FLU!!!

Ladies of my acquaint have been sympathetic, nodding gently when I've complained about the weight of my eyelids or whenever a local cow stares at me in a strange manner. Some have gently mopped my fevered brown with their scented hankies....hang on a sec, I'm delusional, I'm dreaming, I've been pilloried, castigated and humiliated for daring to whimper whenever beset by a bout of sneezes. They can be quite inhumane the so called fairer sex.

Obviously male chums commented how I didn't have long for this planet and that it was nice knowing me, others made the obligatory swine flu jokes...

Which got me thinking.

What happened to the great Winter Swine Flu pandemic that was going to see dead bodies being piled high in the streets? 

Where were the citizens wandering through shopping centres jingling warning bells in front of them? What became of the huge X's daubed on the double glazed doors of victims throughout the length and breadth of auld Scotia?

Naturally, when Swine Flu raised its ugly head last Spring, our invincible Health Secretary, Nicola Sturgeon, took all criticism on the chin, and michty me what a chin, without fully identifying the financial implications for NHS Scotland budgets, manfully shoved risk assessments aside and heroically ordered copious amounts of the H1N1 pandemic vaccine, somewhere in the region of ten million jabs. 

 

Obviously costs involved in transportation, storage, staffing implementation, etcetera will have to be worked out later. Getting 'big pharms' jabs into our peoples veins, regardless of the supposed benefits of taking the vaccine, was a priority and far outweighed the risk of being perceived as the photo-op seeking Health Secretary who forces her compassion on unsuspecting NHS patients whilst the nation sneezes, splutters and whinges, as normal. 

To date Scotland has had about 70 Swine Flu deaths. Obviously the real danger has been the much quoted ‘underlying health problems’. This lovely phrase seems to imply that the patient was already ill with something ghastly and the Swine Flu helped finish them off. The fact remains that this is an illness that has killed far less Scots than regular flu. At what cost?

Naturally, there are those who have been voluble in their criticism of this culture of cajoling, pressuring and insisting that vulnerable groups take an untested vaccine. The most vocal critics have been the advocates for expectant mothers, who have discovered several cases globally where babies whose expectant mothers had taken the vaccine have died. In spite of this jolly Jackie Bailley, she of the sexiest voice in parliament, has been quick to condemn the redoubtable Ms Sturgeon for failing to personally ensure that all pregnant women are vaccinated…

We're told that the immunisation programme take up has been fantastic. The advert of some bloke sneezing in a lift has no doubt had benefits to Scotland's health causing many of us to avoid lifts and take the stairs instead. 

So far nearly half a million people in Scotland have taken the vaccine, nearly 10 per cent of the population, of those 105,000 are health and social care workers, who work with the vulnerable and were obliged encouraged to take the jab.

Which leaves us with some awkward questions. What are we going to do with the remaining nine million jabs? In our haste to appear to do the right thing did we forget to include a get-out-clause with our suppliers? Have we received all our doses in one go? Are there more to come? Can we sell the unused ones back to our supplier? Will we stockpile the unused vaccines in the hope that Swine Flu will come back stronger? Or will we either donate or sell them to impoverished countries where the ‘epidemic’ is gaining momentum? 

In the meantime, I'll be a brave little soldier and toddle off to my death bed.  

For clarification the photograph below is not Angus Robertson modelling his latest hoodie.