Monday 6 April 2020
I will keep washing my hands like an obsessive
What a day. I had no idea that life could change so rapidly, but it clearly does. It started off routinely, as I tried hard to creep from my apartment just after dawn, for my stagger-stumble around Hyde Park. Although the bigwigs allow us to do this, I try not to attract attention, as going outside even for exercise makes me feel guilty.
My first error was when I tried to close my front door quietly. Why, of all days, did it decide to slam? I mouthed a silent, “Sorry,” to the at least seven lights that instantly flashed on from apartments up and down the street. My aim to have a silent departure had been futile.
The stagger-stumble itself was without hazard as I now try to stick to the middle of the street. There is such little traffic generally these days, and around dawn there is almost nothing. There was the odd occasion when I had to play chicken with a fellow stagger-stumbler, each of us diving off the track at the last moment. Social distancing etiquette seems to suggest that you should dive to the right. That is despite my country being in the minority by driving on the left. Meanwhile, the occasional police van drifts silently past, its windows sealed. I keep wanting to say, “Thank you,” for what the boys in blue are doing but somehow it seems inappropriate to ask a police van to stop, solely for that reason. Whatever they do these days, the police are wrong. I guess it is just the way of it.
The situation this morning – 6 April 2020 (courtesy Center for Systems Science and Engineering at Johns Hopkins University)
It was when I returned to my apartment that life changed. From the point yesterday when none of my offers to volunteer had been accepted, suddenly I had three opportunities thrown my way. There was a charity specialising in the elderly that had decided I was the right sort. Would I mind telephoning at least three of their charges to be sure that, in self-isolation, they were fine? No problem, I replied.
“Do they know that I will be ringing?” I asked.
“I doubt it,” came the answer.
So tomorrow I start blind calling self-isolators and somehow persuading them that I am not a Criminal Joe trying to diddle them from their life savings.
The private healthcare sector has also been in touch to say they are certain I can be useful.
“How?” I asked.
“No idea,” they replied, “but we’ll be sure to let you know later.” I will watch that space with interest.
The NHS meanwhile is conspicuous by its absence. I suspect I am one of many who is on their volunteer books. I have passed all the tests, been interviewed, and completed all documentation. So far, I have not been given a task.
And then there is another charity that is manifestly fully switched on. Within 48 hours of my application, I had heard from them, been given a task, and tomorrow is when it starts. For the moment I am going to keep them nameless other than to say they appear good.
I am to be a non-medic and help with the logistic support in feeding NHS staff. It is just as well I am not cooking, as if I did so I would put back the viral fight by at least a century. I can barely boil an egg, have been known to burn spaghetti, although am fairly expert at ready-cooked meals that need a microwave. At lunchtime tomorrow I report for duty at a major teaching hospital and, at that point, am told I will receive my orders. It is rather like being back on military operations, when I often had no idea what I would be doing until I got there, yet somehow it would work. At the moment, I have no idea what I must expect.
Stay out of intensive care if you can (Akiromaru)
As an incipient codger, I realise I am at risk, so have asked for a hotel to be booked for me just in case. At the moment, I am unsure of the risks I face, so may have to live away from home for fear of infecting others. My aim, of course, is not to become ill at all, but as this pandemic progresses it is evident that plenty better than me have failed in their efforts to avoid infection. I am about to join the frontline, at least somewhere near it, so there is no knowing where this will end. My best guess is that I will end up as a manual labourer, or I might even make it to the lofty position of van driver. Now where did I leave my licence?
The Prime Minister, meanwhile, has everyone worried as he was admitted to intensive care today. I am unsure if this is solely for clinical reasons or whether his VIP status plays a part. The country has been shell-shocked by this notification and the Foreign Secretary has stepped into the breach. So far, the public has been told that the PM is needing oxygen but is not on a ventilator. I would not wish to hear anything about a ventilator, as the moment that happens, one knows that the chances are not good. I feel, too, for Carrie, his young lady, who is presently carrying their first child. This wretched virus is managing to disrupt all facets of society and the PM is no exception. Boris has received incredible support from right around the world. Mind you, if he pulls through, as we all hope he will, he will be able to walk on water.
Dr Calderwood, Scotland’s CMO who decided to break her own rules, and drove to her second home on two occasions, has now resigned. That can only be for the good. Right now, those who purport to be our leaders, need to show themselves as more than squeaky clean. Especially as they are talking about banning outdoor exercise unless the public can get its social distancing manners in order. Not only that, but there is word on the street about closing parks and open spaces, although the government has agreed that this should only be a last resort.
Please don’t close our public spaces, but I guess that depends on the dough heads (Reuters)
Folk are also beginning to ask if there is an exit strategy and the government is playing for time. The questioners give the impression that a government is meant to know how this will all end. For example, by such-and-such a date we will do this, and by another date we will do that. No chance. Anyone who thinks such things, does not understand this virus.
Key to this will be an understanding of how many people in the community have already been infected. If that number is small, so our restrictions may have to go on for longer. If it is large, then we can be somewhat more liberal. Then there is the economy, which is basically falling apart. The Government’s shoulders are having to be broad right now. When it comes to lifting restrictions, they must be even broader.
For the moment I will keep washing my hands like an obsessive and trying to social distance while being near the frontline. That will be an interesting experience.
