'Ups and Downs'
Friday once again. Nothing has changed. Boris Johnson's first appearance at the daily Downing Street press conference since returning to work post illness brought nothing new. A dialogue of ups and downs amidst a backdrop of endless statistics and promises of possible proposals for possible scenarios for a possible eventual exit strategy.
The PM's optimistic assurance that 'we have passed the peak' was immediately contradicted by Chief Medical Officer Professor Chris Whitty's pessimistic statement of 'we are nowhere near the end of this epidemic...there is a very long way to run' . I felt a surreal sensation akin to Alice in Wonderland disappearing down a rabbit hole, where nothing is real and nothing is as it seems.
Boris Johnson described coming through the peak as emerging from 'an alpine tunnel'. I am not convinced by his sentiment or his geographic metaphor. Much as I would dearly love to believe the worst is over it is hard to see anything clearly yet, let alone envisage the sunny uplands of an alpine meadow. I wish I could.
When I first began writing this diary I visualised walking down a narrow country lane, at times ablaze with vibrant spring colour, at others shrouded in dark shadows. Now I see it the journey as one of ups and downs, of steep hills and deep descents, in a multi hued landscape with glimpses of an azure blue sea glinting on a far horizon.
These ups and downs mirror my current moods, the current capricious, unseasonable weather and the highs and lows of living in lockdown as the world grapples with this invisible deadly enemy.
Despite an obvious immediate need to focus on this current crisis, there is increasing criticism here of past, present and future management. Society, originally unexpectedly compliant in lockdown rules, is breaking down too, as evidenced in many media reports of infringements.
I have been involved in a number of social policy think tanks recently so it is no surprise to read this on the BBC website today:
'Responses to a series of surveys over the last month suggest the country has gone from apprehension at the start through to dejection as the economy shrank and the death toll mounted. People have moved on to frustration in the most recent analysis as restrictions begin to grind and reality dawns as to how long they may last. is the increasing frustration and boredom translating into exasperation? Are we reaching the point where people will start to ignore the rules.'
Good question. I have lost count of the voices publicly and privately questioning the Government's approach and I will happily add mine: less of the treating us like children please, give us more reality and less spin!
This eloquent, angry, letter came from a friend who is a key NHS worker and a civil celebrant this week describing her experiences on a 'hot site' and her feelings about her current situation.
.........................
A 'hot' site is a drive in clinic for pt with Covid symptoms to get treatment/assessment. nhs 111 directly book appts from their calls, there are 3 Hot sites in east Kent. ashford/folkestone/Dover. One GP one nurse and one admin work at the sites on a rota from local surgeries. Money was drawn down from government for the structure portacabin and tents for each bay on the car park. But it is staffed by local gp surgeries who pay us as their staff.
Our ppe is coming from local supplies including a local volunteer who is sewing the scrubs. Currently I’m on the rota every other Wednesday at the hot site but if we get more support from other surgeries I hope I can do less. Not that I’m shirking but as I’m doing 2 funerals a week as well as working at the surgery 3 days I want to limit my contact.
My partner is doing teaching on line still. Schools here are only seeing key workers children and then not all. His school has 2 children turn up out of 1400 so they are closed and the pupils gone to a primary school. One of my relatives is stuck at home with 3 children one of whom is severely autistic (his school is shut) and the primary won’t take her other two even though her partner is a teacher at a special school and is working every day because she is at home. No one can help due to infection risk.It’s so crazy.
I think when people can’t see the problem they don’t realise how serious it is. A neighbour the other day said she was glad it hadn’t reached this part of the country . OMG. I’m not going to shatter her illusions she must think I’m over cautious going off with my mask on! If all my friends/family and colleagues get through this that’s all I ask for.
If I know anyone who voted Tory ever I’d like them to see what is going on and don’t be fooled that they are ‘doing their best’. Horrifed that there’s talk of lifting the lockdown while the hot sites are set to run at least for the next month.
......................
Another friend summed up eloquently how within our own friendship groups we can all sense the breaking down of consensus
" I get the feeling there are small shifts among us to use safe judgements about 'safe relating' with those we have decided are indeed safe. As for 'public health' - I think the public behaves more, not less, responsibly with full information, rather than a mix of ignorance, scaremongering and wishful thinking...."
.............................
In a bid to curb our exhaustion with the long slow uphill climb and to reward us with a view at the top before we drop down again the BBC themed today 'positive thinking'. Things 'we' have learnt during lockdown.
So here is my 'view from the summit' moment of reflection. I have learnt how much I love my life. I have a wonderful husband, four wonderful children, now with wonderful partners and four wonderful granddaughters. My family are my world.
I have enjoyed my career, fulfilling my ambitions, obtaining a PHD , worked alongside incredibly stimulating people of all ages and backgrounds.
In the last decade I have had the luxury of enough health, wealth and time to fulfil my ambition to travel. Backpacking solo throughout Asia, Central and South America, Cuba, India, Indonesia, Australia, the list goes on as I discovered reserves of physical and mental energy I never knew I had having amazing adventures.
I have lived happily in the same lovely village near Lewes for over 30 years, building up a strong sustaining network of friends , I enjoying spending my time in their company, I value their support.
Last year my husband took a sabbatical so we could head off to NZ for 3 months, rather than waiting until he (ever) retires. I am so, so glad we did not delay this, it was fabulous. Treasured memories. Who knew then what this year would bring.
I do not want to learn new life skills, I just want my normal everyday life back. I cherish it, it is full of everything I love. If this lockdown has taught me anything, it is to appreciate the life I have, the life I long to return to, everyone safe and sound.
Today, it being Friday and in keeping with the BBC s upbeat topic, I shall finish on a positive note. My heart goes out to those in grief and despair in this awful time and I know laughter can seem self indulgent and insensitive in the face of such sadness. However, today I will allow myself a moment of light relief, a breather at top of an uphill struggle, with this humorous post from Club 971:
Lockdown lingo - are you fully conversant with the new terminology?
Coronacoaster
The ups and downs of your mood during the pandemic. You’re loving lockdown one minute but suddenly weepy with anxiety the next. It truly is “an emotional coronacoaster”.
Quarantinis
Experimental cocktails mixed from whatever random ingredients you have left in the house. The boozy equivalent of a store cupboard supper. Southern Comfort and Ribena quarantini with a glacé cherry garnish, anyone? These are sipped at “locktail hour”, ie. wine o’clock during lockdown, which seems to be creeping earlier with each passing week.
Le Creuset wrist
It’s the new “avocado hand” - an aching arm after taking one’s best saucepan outside to bang during the weekly ‘Clap For Carers.’ It might be heavy but you’re keen to impress the neighbours with your high-quality kitchenware.
Coronials
As opposed to millennials, this refers to the future generation of babies conceived or born during coronavirus quarantine. They might also become known as “Generation C” or, more spookily, “Children of the Quarn”.
Furlough Merlot
Wine consumed in an attempt to relieve the frustration of not working. Also known as “bored-eaux” or “cabernet tedium”.
Coronadose
An overdose of bad news from consuming too much media during a time of crisis. Can result in a panicdemic.
The elephant in the Zoom
The glaring issue during a videoconferencing call that nobody feels able to mention. E.g. one participant has dramatically put on weight, suddenly sprouted terrible facial hair or has a worryingly messy house visible in the background.
Quentin Quarantino
An attention-seeker using their time in lockdown to make amateur films which they’re convinced are funnier and cleverer than they actually are.
Covidiot or Wuhan-ker
One who ignores public health advice or behaves with reckless disregard for the safety of others can be said to display “covidiocy” or be “covidiotic”. Also called a “lockclown” or even a “Wuhan-ker”.
Goutbreak
The sudden fear that you’ve consumed so much wine, cheese, home-made cake and Easter chocolate in lockdown that your ankles are swelling up like a medieval king’s.
Antisocial distancing
Using health precautions as an excuse for snubbing neighbours and generally ignoring people you find irritating.
Coughin’ dodger
Someone so alarmed by an innocuous splutter or throat-clear that they back away in terror.
Mask-ara
Extra make-up applied to "make one's eyes pop" before venturing out in public wearing a face mask.
Covid-10
The 10lbs in weight that we’re all gaining from comfort-eating and comfort-drinking. Also known as “fattening the curve.
Friday once again. Nothing has changed. Boris Johnson's first appearance at the daily Downing Street press conference since returning to work post illness brought nothing new. A dialogue of ups and downs amidst a backdrop of endless statistics and promises of possible proposals for possible scenarios for a possible eventual exit strategy.
The PM's optimistic assurance that 'we have passed the peak' was immediately contradicted by Chief Medical Officer Professor Chris Whitty's pessimistic statement of 'we are nowhere near the end of this epidemic...there is a very long way to run' . I felt a surreal sensation akin to Alice in Wonderland disappearing down a rabbit hole, where nothing is real and nothing is as it seems.
Boris Johnson described coming through the peak as emerging from 'an alpine tunnel'. I am not convinced by his sentiment or his geographic metaphor. Much as I would dearly love to believe the worst is over it is hard to see anything clearly yet, let alone envisage the sunny uplands of an alpine meadow. I wish I could.
When I first began writing this diary I visualised walking down a narrow country lane, at times ablaze with vibrant spring colour, at others shrouded in dark shadows. Now I see it the journey as one of ups and downs, of steep hills and deep descents, in a multi hued landscape with glimpses of an azure blue sea glinting on a far horizon.
These ups and downs mirror my current moods, the current capricious, unseasonable weather and the highs and lows of living in lockdown as the world grapples with this invisible deadly enemy.
Despite an obvious immediate need to focus on this current crisis, there is increasing criticism here of past, present and future management. Society, originally unexpectedly compliant in lockdown rules, is breaking down too, as evidenced in many media reports of infringements.
I have been involved in a number of social policy think tanks recently so it is no surprise to read this on the BBC website today:
'Responses to a series of surveys over the last month suggest the country has gone from apprehension at the start through to dejection as the economy shrank and the death toll mounted. People have moved on to frustration in the most recent analysis as restrictions begin to grind and reality dawns as to how long they may last. is the increasing frustration and boredom translating into exasperation? Are we reaching the point where people will start to ignore the rules.'
Good question. I have lost count of the voices publicly and privately questioning the Government's approach and I will happily add mine: less of the treating us like children please, give us more reality and less spin!
This eloquent, angry, letter came from a friend who is a key NHS worker and a civil celebrant this week describing her experiences on a 'hot site' and her feelings about her current situation.
.........................
A 'hot' site is a drive in clinic for pt with Covid symptoms to get treatment/assessment. nhs 111 directly book appts from their calls, there are 3 Hot sites in east Kent. ashford/folkestone/Dover. One GP one nurse and one admin work at the sites on a rota from local surgeries. Money was drawn down from government for the structure portacabin and tents for each bay on the car park. But it is staffed by local gp surgeries who pay us as their staff.
Our ppe is coming from local supplies including a local volunteer who is sewing the scrubs. Currently I’m on the rota every other Wednesday at the hot site but if we get more support from other surgeries I hope I can do less. Not that I’m shirking but as I’m doing 2 funerals a week as well as working at the surgery 3 days I want to limit my contact.
My partner is doing teaching on line still. Schools here are only seeing key workers children and then not all. His school has 2 children turn up out of 1400 so they are closed and the pupils gone to a primary school. One of my relatives is stuck at home with 3 children one of whom is severely autistic (his school is shut) and the primary won’t take her other two even though her partner is a teacher at a special school and is working every day because she is at home. No one can help due to infection risk.It’s so crazy.
I think when people can’t see the problem they don’t realise how serious it is. A neighbour the other day said she was glad it hadn’t reached this part of the country . OMG. I’m not going to shatter her illusions she must think I’m over cautious going off with my mask on! If all my friends/family and colleagues get through this that’s all I ask for.
If I know anyone who voted Tory ever I’d like them to see what is going on and don’t be fooled that they are ‘doing their best’. Horrifed that there’s talk of lifting the lockdown while the hot sites are set to run at least for the next month.
......................
Another friend summed up eloquently how within our own friendship groups we can all sense the breaking down of consensus
" I get the feeling there are small shifts among us to use safe judgements about 'safe relating' with those we have decided are indeed safe. As for 'public health' - I think the public behaves more, not less, responsibly with full information, rather than a mix of ignorance, scaremongering and wishful thinking...."
.............................
In a bid to curb our exhaustion with the long slow uphill climb and to reward us with a view at the top before we drop down again the BBC themed today 'positive thinking'. Things 'we' have learnt during lockdown.
So here is my 'view from the summit' moment of reflection. I have learnt how much I love my life. I have a wonderful husband, four wonderful children, now with wonderful partners and four wonderful granddaughters. My family are my world.
I have enjoyed my career, fulfilling my ambitions, obtaining a PHD , worked alongside incredibly stimulating people of all ages and backgrounds.
In the last decade I have had the luxury of enough health, wealth and time to fulfil my ambition to travel. Backpacking solo throughout Asia, Central and South America, Cuba, India, Indonesia, Australia, the list goes on as I discovered reserves of physical and mental energy I never knew I had having amazing adventures.
I have lived happily in the same lovely village near Lewes for over 30 years, building up a strong sustaining network of friends , I enjoying spending my time in their company, I value their support.
Last year my husband took a sabbatical so we could head off to NZ for 3 months, rather than waiting until he (ever) retires. I am so, so glad we did not delay this, it was fabulous. Treasured memories. Who knew then what this year would bring.
I do not want to learn new life skills, I just want my normal everyday life back. I cherish it, it is full of everything I love. If this lockdown has taught me anything, it is to appreciate the life I have, the life I long to return to, everyone safe and sound.
Today, it being Friday and in keeping with the BBC s upbeat topic, I shall finish on a positive note. My heart goes out to those in grief and despair in this awful time and I know laughter can seem self indulgent and insensitive in the face of such sadness. However, today I will allow myself a moment of light relief, a breather at top of an uphill struggle, with this humorous post from Club 971:
Lockdown lingo - are you fully conversant with the new terminology?
Coronacoaster
The ups and downs of your mood during the pandemic. You’re loving lockdown one minute but suddenly weepy with anxiety the next. It truly is “an emotional coronacoaster”.
Quarantinis
Experimental cocktails mixed from whatever random ingredients you have left in the house. The boozy equivalent of a store cupboard supper. Southern Comfort and Ribena quarantini with a glacé cherry garnish, anyone? These are sipped at “locktail hour”, ie. wine o’clock during lockdown, which seems to be creeping earlier with each passing week.
Le Creuset wrist
It’s the new “avocado hand” - an aching arm after taking one’s best saucepan outside to bang during the weekly ‘Clap For Carers.’ It might be heavy but you’re keen to impress the neighbours with your high-quality kitchenware.
Coronials
As opposed to millennials, this refers to the future generation of babies conceived or born during coronavirus quarantine. They might also become known as “Generation C” or, more spookily, “Children of the Quarn”.
Furlough Merlot
Wine consumed in an attempt to relieve the frustration of not working. Also known as “bored-eaux” or “cabernet tedium”.
Coronadose
An overdose of bad news from consuming too much media during a time of crisis. Can result in a panicdemic.
The elephant in the Zoom
The glaring issue during a videoconferencing call that nobody feels able to mention. E.g. one participant has dramatically put on weight, suddenly sprouted terrible facial hair or has a worryingly messy house visible in the background.
Quentin Quarantino
An attention-seeker using their time in lockdown to make amateur films which they’re convinced are funnier and cleverer than they actually are.
Covidiot or Wuhan-ker
One who ignores public health advice or behaves with reckless disregard for the safety of others can be said to display “covidiocy” or be “covidiotic”. Also called a “lockclown” or even a “Wuhan-ker”.
Goutbreak
The sudden fear that you’ve consumed so much wine, cheese, home-made cake and Easter chocolate in lockdown that your ankles are swelling up like a medieval king’s.
Antisocial distancing
Using health precautions as an excuse for snubbing neighbours and generally ignoring people you find irritating.
Coughin’ dodger
Someone so alarmed by an innocuous splutter or throat-clear that they back away in terror.
Mask-ara
Extra make-up applied to "make one's eyes pop" before venturing out in public wearing a face mask.
Covid-10
The 10lbs in weight that we’re all gaining from comfort-eating and comfort-drinking. Also known as “fattening the curve.
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