Every year I tell myself it’ll be different this year, and every single year I’m surprised when it isn’t. I should know better by now. The flu vaccine-ordering process has always been a “tad” stressful, but now that we’re told which ones to buy, it should be easier, right? Nope, wrong! Invariably, even though the same thing happens every year – we place orders, they fulfil the orders, we jab patients – it’s wrong each and every time and I’m beyond being able to sort it out.

In fact, I might give up.

I’ve thought about what would happen if we didn’t sign up for the DES. Each year, I’m more tempted to tear it up. The partners say it’s important for patient care, and I get that, I really do. But I can dream. If all the practices were to say we’re not doing that, what would happen? Would the pharmacies do it? Would the local community health trusts pick up the baton?

I’m not sure. Despite all the visible demonstrations that pharmacies make about wanting to vaccinate patients, I’m not sure they really want 100% of them. I’m pretty sure our local child health teams have enough on their plate without the additional bonus of thousands of patients rocking up for their flu jabs.

This year I’ve felt under attack on all sides – from the patients who are less understanding about the difficulties we’re facing, from the pharmacies who are actively trying to poach our patients, and from big pharma who’ve failed me in spectacular fashion this year. That’s before I mention the new Health Secretary who seems to hate us.

Locally it seems there’s a bit of an oddity. Children are being signed up for their COVID vaccinations in their droves. Child Health were NOT expecting that and I’ve now got patients calling left, right and centre for missed school jabs and for boosters. We’re not delivering either and I’m breathing a HUGE sigh of relief over that one.

I am, however, drowning in flu vaccines. Courtesy of a rescheduled clinic at the start of the season, I now have more flu vaccines than I expected and some of my patients have diverted to the local pharmacy who appear to have decided that the GLOVES ARE OFF! Given how much they rely on us at times to sort out the SNAFUs they’re capable of, I think it’s quite optimistic of them, to say the least, but please don’t suggest that I hold a grudge against them.

I’m irritated beyond reason that in spite of our meticulous planning, social-media campaign and smiley Saturday clinics, that I have more vaccines than I’m confident we can use. I mean, it’s a pleasant change after last year, I suppose, but I’m worried about the people who are normally really reliable. If they’ve had it elsewhere, that’s their choice, and I understand that; I’m worried about those who haven’t had it elsewhere. Is it that the flu was minimal last year, so they think they won’t catch it? Is it that they’re too afraid to come into the surgery? Or is it that the messaging that we’re not seeing patients face to face has had an impact?

We’re desperate to see our lovely patients. In spite of my moaning about the flu season generally, I do genuinely love our Saturday flu clinics. I dress in my comfiest shoes and sensible trousers and run around like a headless chicken all day. By the end of the clinics, I could break into song; that’s how much I love them. The staff are happy – coffees and teas all round. Our staff are amazing, in spite of how much they’ve dealt with over the past two years, so this year I’ve thrown caution to the wind and got breakfast butties and cakes too.

I can only hope we’ve done enough jabs to cover the overtime and butty bill. Now I come to think of it, what did that contract say about sale or return?