Lockdown

We’re only four days into this social distancing shit show and I’ve had just about enough. We are in what the media like to sensationally refer to as lockdown for an initial three weeks, but the likelihood is that it will go on for longer. Every time there is a headline or article offering cause for hope or optimism it seems to be immediately followed by something contradictory.

Take yesterday for example. It was reported by several sources that a Public Health England official had claimed that coronavirus testing would be widely available by next week. That testing will be crucial in telling us who has had the virus and who is still at risk of contracting it or passing it on to others. Today Chris Whitty, that odd-looking bloke you might have seen at government press briefings or in hastily produced government information films about social distancing, poo-poo-ed all of that. Whitty, who might be part of a cunning ruse to frighten the virus away, says that further testing needs to be done to make sure that the tests get the correct information that we need to make a difference. So we are awaiting tests on the tests. That sounds absurd but kind of encapsulates where we’re at.

It always seemed fanciful that this government would be able to arrange such a quick roll-out of mass testing despite the higher levels seen in other countries. I’m always genuinely surprised when I see Boris Johnson at one of his press briefings because it means he’s managed to remember to turn up. That he smirks his way through delivery of the gravest public advice since the Second World War is not endearing or reassuring. It just reinforces the view that the mop-headed toff is doing what he’s always done, bluffing his way through a situation that he is ill-equipped for. The only qualification he has for leading the country is his massive sense of entitlement. Quite how we are meant to put our trust in him to lead us out of this mess is a mystery that Fred Thursday wouldn’t have anything to do with.

Despite my scepticism about Johnson I had allowed myself to believe that we had made the strides towards widespread testing that were suggested yesterday. That was born mostly of the fact that it was a public health official making the claim and not Johnson or a member of his government. That immediately gave it extra gravitas for me. I’m not noted for my optimism as you know, but I wanted to believe it. A week of working from home, unable to go anywhere except the Co-Op which has become the new highlight of my day, has done strange things to me. My normally heightened, Olympic levels of cynicism have been swept aside. Social distancing is as mind altering as Stella Artois. Much more of it and I’m sure it will make me want to punch people in the same way too. I’m unable to contemplate many months of this, particularly if televised sport continues to be absent. Literally the only way I can imagine getting through it without eating my own leg is to stay optimistic. To check developments every day and look for positivity and encouraging signs. And, if you’ll humour me, writing the odd blog in an attempt both to lighten the mood and to organise my thoughts.

But if it isn’t health experts like Whitty pissing on any good news that I find it is the relentless doomsayers on social media. Some of them are perverse, revelling in any bad news because it ‘proves’ that they were right when they told everyone what should have been done weeks ago. They like to also make predictions about death counts, rubbish any suggestions that death rates have slowed across Europe, and generally hammer home the message that the UK will be in this state for the next 18 months. If we come out of this in anything like the time scale that has been achieved in China and South Korea, if death rates slow as they are reported to have done in Italy and Spain, these people will no doubt be sorely disappointed.

Tomorrow is a big, possibly pivotal day. I was due to go to my nephrology appointment at the hospital but they phoned me yesterday and asked me not to attend. It is difficult to practice social distancing in a hospital waiting room. Many of the patients are probably on the list of those at extra risk who have been told not to go out at all. Not even to the Co-Op. Thankfully I have not had that advice myself. If I’d had my transplant early in the New Year as was initially thought there would be no Co-Op for me. Not even Bargain Booze. With few patients to attend and with social distancing an issue for those who can make it they’ve just called the whole thing off. Instead they will be conducting the consultation by telephone. The virus has put paid to hopes of my transplant taking place for at least the next few months so I need my kidney function to hold up. They are unlikely to rush me off for dialysis given that I am still reasonably well and that to do so would place an extra demand on the NHS, but it would be ever so slightly unsettling to find out that my function is falling at a time when I’m understandably not a priority.

A few minutes ago I was watching television coverage of people standing outside their houses clapping NHS staff for their efforts during the crisis so far. Those staff deserve more than applause but it is right that they at least get this level of acknowledgment. I can’t help but wonder though how many of those people out on their doorsteps (palpably failing to observe the social distancing advice that they have been screaming at everyone else for allegedly flouting) voted for the Tory party which has consistently, deliberately underfunded the NHS for the last 10 years? Do those people imagine that their applause compensates for their irresponsibility in giving these entitled, arrogant fools the controls to the country during the last decade?

It’s odd that I’m finding this so difficult in some ways. When I have the freedom to do so I rarely go out. I haven’t had a beer since the middle of February and when I get home from work during the week I’m always more inclined to stay in watching a game than go anywhere. But there isn’t any sport. What is more, the same people who barf on about how long we will be locked down for, how many jobs will be lost and how many will die, also have a few thoughts on the comparably trivial effects of the virus. They are insistent that none of the sports that are currently suspended will come back this year.

The Euros and the Olympics have been postponed and the lowest levels of football outside the professional league have had their season voided and results expunged from the record. This has convinced some that all football will follow suit, which ignores repeated statements from club owners, managers and players and those running the professional game that the season will finish even if it has to be behind closed doors. Over in rugby league some fans are using the suspension as an excuse to push their vom-inducing franchising agenda. A chance to reset is what they’re calling it. Most of them are World League advovates who might be intrigued to learn that the biggest obstacle to rugby league clubs receiving the help with salaries announced by Rishi Sunak last week is the presence of two non-UK teams in the competition.

I’ve gone off the point a bit. I suppose what I deduce from my cabin fever is that although I don’t go out a lot I don’t like to have that decision taken out of my hands. This is not freedom or anything like it and I just wish more people would have a day off from jumping on the doom and gloom bandwagon and do something to spread a little more optimism. Putting a bit more pressure on the government to speed up testing would be a far better use of time than telling me the finer detail of what UK death tolls mean in relation to Italy, France or Spain.

I’ll be checking that myself, albeit looking for a more positive slant and for signs of hope.