Friday 13 March 2020
Branch of Sakura – 6500 trees have been donated by the Japanese to UK (courtesy Antonel)
At last, I sense UK society is beginning to take things seriously, although there are still many people hanging on to old times.
The friend who telephoned me today from the back of a London cab was a perfect example of old habits dying hard. He was headed to a West End theatre and stopping at a restaurant on the way.
The cab was a daft idea, the restaurant was a daft idea, the theatre was a daft idea. Any one of the three, indeed each of the three, could have been a perfect environment for Covid-19.
All I could say was, “You are brave.”
Many do not comprehend that the threat we face is invisible and the number of cases reported is a tiny percentage of the total. When I think Covid-19, I keep rabbits in mind. The number I see on the surface, dashing this and way and that across a field, is a tiny proportion of the overall number. Most of them are underground and out of sight, waiting until my back is turned before gobbling whatever I have planted. Twenty rabbits per acre of underground land would not be an underestimate. I rarely see that many on the surface.
Social distancing is beginning to become accepted, although a few still find the idea peculiar. Many also feel offended if I catch them misbehaving, or I remind them to improve their act. After all, that is exactly what happens to me in an operating theatre. If I make the tiniest error, you can be sure my theatre sister will give me a contemptuous look and say something like, “What do you think you are doing?”
The situation this morning – 13 March 2020 (courtesy Center for Systems Science and Engineering at Johns Hopkins University)
I am now beyond caring if I upset people. Covid-19 is among us, plenty of patients are already being admitted to hospital and some are now perishing.
When walking the streets outside my apartment this morning, I saw a woman, somewhere in her mid-twenties, delivering a massive, slobber-ridden, gunk-laden sneeze, but without any form of protection.
“What the **** do you think you are doing?” I said, although I was out of range of her slobber.
“And **** to you, too,” she yelled, reinforced by an extended middle finger. Then she ran off crying.
For any training sessions I am running over the next few weeks – these days I teach a lot of doctors – we are considering the rearrangement of rooms so we can give at least two metres between attendees, place hand gel where we need it and be certain the rooms have a good throughflow of air. Next stop will be to work out if we can train remotely. Others are doing it so we should look to do the same. It may be a way for the future when all this Covid Craziness is behind us.
In northern Italy they are treating them in warehouses
How we run our lives is already changing, and not before time. I am receiving plenty of invitations to attend webinars, which I only occasionally received before. Meanwhile many others, in different professions, are setting up businesses that they can run from home. Digital secretaries, proof-reading of writing, even simple typing, are approaches I received today alone.
The financial bods are also whipping themselves into action as the stock markets plummet. I have decided to sit tight and just watch myself get poorer and am now worth a fraction of what I was seven days ago. Yet despite the collapsing markets, the finance salesmen are on the case immediately, encouraging me to transfer money to what they describe as safer options.
“Believe me,” I said to one pleasant City financier who cold-called my mobile, “there is nowhere safe at the moment.”
He hesitated for a few seconds, with silence on the line, and then spoke. “You’re probably right,” he admitted, as he changed from salesman to normal citizen in a flash.
“Good luck,” I said.
“You, too,” he replied. With that my mobile stayed silent.
The feeling I have at the moment is similar to a conflict zone but before the fighting starts. I imagine everything is in control but know that just around the corner, chaos is lurking. Unlike conflict, the mayhem will not be sudden, although when it comes it will gather astonishing speed. There is simply no way of avoiding it. I must be relaxed but on edge, flexible yet rigid, independent yet supportive of others. Although I pray the chaos will be over in a few months, it may go on for significantly longer. Right now, no one can be certain of anything.
Prince Charles shelved his visit to Bosnia-Herzegovina (courtesy Sarajevo Times)
Most of my engagements have now been postponed, or in some cases cancelled. The American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons (AAOS), that global showpiece of surgery at a conference in Orlando, has been cancelled completely. Can you imagine the difficulty in reaching that decision? Full credit to those who did. The conference had taken several years to arrange and was welcoming 27,000 attendees, 479 presentations, and had filled 250,000 square feet of exhibit space. The AAOS is one of many huge events that have been stopped.
At a smaller level, I was scheduled to give a speech in Cambridge next week – that has been postponed. A lecture I was meant to deliver at King’s College Hospital in three weeks’ time has also gone. The Annual General Meeting next week of a Society to which I belong has been delayed, and a lecture that I was attending in four days’ time has simply vanished. These diary changes are just mine. If I extrapolate them to a whole nation, in a matter of days, life in my country has been transformed.
London is definitely feeling emptier. Whether that is because of folk staying indoors, or fleeing to the countryside, I simply do not know. I suspect it is mostly the former. Members of my family are sorting out working from home and refashioning life so they can spend more time indoors. Even for millennials, social life is reducing.
London is also feeling slightly edgy. I went for an evening walk through its streets to both stretch my legs and clear my mind. It was a Friday evening in UK’s capital city, a time when one can expect London to be bustling. It was as I rounded a corner that I saw them. An unruly group of young men, about 15-strong, and likely on a stag night or something similar. They looked and felt threatening. I gave them a wide berth, by crossing to the far side of the road. There was something about them that made me feel wary. I made sure I was past and beyond in moments.
Europe is now the epicentre of the pandemic, says the head of WHO and Trump has declared a US national emergency. UK local elections have been postponed for 12 months, and even the Queen is delaying her engagements. The Prince of Wales has also shelved his visit to Bosnia-Herzegovina, scheduled for next week.
Young Sakura planted in London’s Regent’s Park (sequinsandcherryblossom.com)
The sporting calendar has taken a truly big hit with many events cancelled. There is also a growing question mark over the Tokyo Olympics, although Japan is holding on to the idea for the moment. I do hope the Olympics go ahead. There is such a strong link between UK and Japan. Take a walk through London’s Regent’s Park, which was where the first of 6500 cherry trees donated by Japan to UK in November 2019, was planted. The trees – they call them Sakura – will be placed in key locations from St Ives to Aberdeen to Londonderry. What a tremendous gift from a tremendous people.
Let’s keep our fingers crossed for the Olympics.
