This is my Edward Jenner day, I shall raise a toast to the man tonight, today I am to have my first Covid vaccination!
Edward Jenner was a local doctor who probably saved more lives than any other human being.
Jenner was born in May 1749 in Berkeley, Glos, the eighth of nine children of the local vicar, Stephen Jenner. From age 14 he was apprenticed to a local surgeon and then trained formally at St George’s Hospital with the great John Hunter. He returned to Berkeley in 1773 as a local doctor and surgeon.
At that time smallpox, or variola, was a scourge which puts Covid in perspective – it was always circulating around, caused severe fever, and pustules on the skin – the “pox” -and around ten percent of the population died of it. Of those infected 1 in 3 died, and over half the survivors had lifelong pockmarks. If one person caught it, 6 in 10 of their family would catch it. It is a virus which spreads somewhat similarly to Covid in droplets, but also from skin flakes from the scabs. Infection was often from contamination of surfaces, bedding clothing etc: smallpox stays viable on surfaces longer than Covid.
It had been recognised for centuries that those who had experienced the smallpox were then protected from it, and some forms of inoculation with skin scrapings from sufferers from a mild form was practised in some parts of the world, known as “variolation”, and introduced io Britain around 1721. The idea was to give mild disease and thence protection. It was a dangerous practice, there was a risk those inoculated could become ill, and even spread the disease. Jenner was “variolated” when young, became ill and apparently suffered lifelong illness from it.
There was folklore suggesting that those who had the cowpox, Latin name “Variola Vaccinia” (meaning “pox of the cow”), did not get smallpox or react to variolation. There were people other than Jenner interested in this. A Dorset framer, Benjamin Jesty, is said to have inoculated and protected his wife and children with cowpox and protected them in the smallpox epidemic of 1774. Another physician around Berkley, John Fewster, may have inoculated some people with cowpox a little before Jenner, but this was never written up and he apparently decided that cowpox inoculation was of no value[1]. The popular story is that Jenner noticed the milkmaids, who all caught cowpox, did not get smallpox, although he may well have been alerted by Fewster. Whatever the background, it was Jenner who realised the potential importance of this, experimented with it, and eventually published it. It was classic science, a great example of clear thought.
Jenner inoculated 24 people with cowpox material from a milkmaid with the disease, including his own 10-month-old son, and demonstrated that variolation then had no effect on them. Health and safety would never allow this today! Despite initial resistance from the medical establishment, and anti-vaxxers, who are certainly not a new phenomenon, his findings were published in 1798.
As he inoculated with Variola Vaccinia, Jenner called the process “Vaccination”.
From these beginnings, vaccination was developed. By 1840 the British Government had banned variolation, and today smallpox has been eradicated from the world. With this and all the other lives saved by other vaccines, Jenner’s work has led to the saving of millions of lives.
Jenner had many other interests. When young he experimented with ballooning, and is thought to have met his wife, Catherine Kingscote, when his balloon landed in Kingscote Park, not far from Berkeley. He is credited with advancing the understanding of ischaemic heart disease. Jenner was also a keen zoologist and was the first to observe and describe how baby cuckoos push the other fledglings out of their adopted nest!
There is a delightful museum about all of this in Jenner’s old house in Berkeley.
Anti-vaxxers started in Jenner’s time and have been around ever since – the first cartoon below is from 1930.
There is still a lot of muddled thinking around…
Meanwhile, back to today, I am off for my jab, the first step in developing freedom from the restrictions of Covid. What we need now is for Kathy to get hers, she is younger and lower down the priority list, but hopefully it will be within 3 or 4 weeks.
Lockdown has become the Collins dictionary word of the year! Lockdown is defined by the publishers as “the imposition of stringent restrictions on travel, social interaction, and access to public spaces.” The word has seen a 6000% increase throughout the world in the past year.
Let’s hope that the word of the year for 2021 is Vaccine. Or possibly even Science. Yesterday’s news about the success of the first vaccine to progress to the stage of nearly jab ready has been so welcome. The oldies and those caring for them in nursing homes will be the first in line for the vaccine here, followed by the older well folks. These are the people most at risk. An enormous distribution task is already underway. Light at the end of our lockdown tunnel! Jabs by spring would be good! We can wait. Knowing that we can see the vaccination headlights in the tunnel is enough to cheer us!
In America, the toddler in the White House refuses to go, claiming unsubstantiated voter fraud. Fox News even cut away from the White House press secretary, Kayleigh McEnany, when she repeatedly made unsubstantiated claims of voter fraud. “Whoa, whoa, whoa” the Fox anchor Neil Cavuto said: “Unless she has more details to back that up, I can’t in good countenance continue to show you this.”
The first actual voter fraud case in this election in Pennsylvania was a Mr. Robert Lynn who requested a mail in ballot for his dead mother. The election officials had cross checked databases with voter registration and discovered that the request was fraudulent as the person was deceased. The address was visited by officials.
In late October officials handed Mr. Lynn a warrant for his arrest. He was placed on $10,000 dollar bail and a trial will be held later this month. Pa election officials are confident of their vote tally and one can see why! They are scrupulous in their work. Voter fraud is punishable by fines of up to $25,000 and up to five years in prison.
The registered Republican will be the first case of voter fraud in Luzerne County Pennsylvania in thirty years.
Last time around when Hilary lost there were discussions of voter fraud. I thought it might have been possible because of the alleged interference in the election by Russia. However as an astute member of my family reminded me, without proof there is no case and I was being Trump like in my concerns. Fair cop. America has lots of problems. Voter fraud isn’t one of them.
Still, it’s going to be a long few months until January. But thankfully, there is light at the end of the tunnel!
Be safe. Stay locked down if you live in England, and wherever you are, wear a mask! We aren’t there yet.
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
John Keats 1819
Our week in Exton on Exmoor was truly magical. It was certainly the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. The Autumn colours were soft and warm and subtle, every morning there were mists in the little valleys folded into the hills we could see through our windows, we ate figs from the tree by the front door, and watched apples ripen on the trees at the back – and ate them. We walked by the coast, over moorland, by rivers and streams, through woods and fields. The corn was high, the leaves golden and the low slanting sunlight produced long shadows and amazing colours. This year’s lambs were grown, with inquisitive black faces, the pheasants had been released from their captivity and strolled around everywhere, beautiful birds came to the garden for food. I do not think I have ever enjoyed Autumn in England so much.
Perhaps the pleasure was partly from escaping – Covid seemed a very remote idea from our little hamlet nestled in the hills. There was a sense of time and permanence. The little church was nearly 800 years old, the hills and rivers felt unchanged over centuries, for all the modern techniques in farming the seasonal rhythms are the same as centuries ago. We were in a place that had seen the black death, the hundred years war, later plagues, Cromwell and revolution, smallpox, the Great War – and still the rhythms just continued, Autumn follows Summer follows Spring (and the fish were still biting!). Winter comes but there will be Spring again: it was all very reassuring and comforting.
Keats was only 24 when he wrote this poem. He was already qualified to practice medicine, and had just given up training in surgery to concentrate on poetry. He was not from the elite, his father was a hostler, then innkeeper, he grew up in North London, the family made enough money to send him to school. He was very young when his mother died of tuberculosis, and his father from falling from a horse. He did not live long, like the rest of the family he was afflicted with TB. He went to Rome for a few months for a warmer climate, and died there aged 25. Yet, in his short life he wrote poetry that influenced English poets for over a century and had a huge influence far beyond. Borges stated that his first encounter with Keats’ work was a great experience that he felt all of his life.
In many ways I think his Ode to Autumn is an essay about old age, but could he have known that? He died so young, too young to understand. And yet….The third verse begins:
Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
This is so true from the perspective of seventy something. I can remember the songs of spring, the youthful passions and ambitions, but they are memories. This is not sad, because now I have “thy music too”. There are so many deep pleasures in life, which can be enjoyed without the urgency of ambition, work, striving to achieve. Music, literature, the garden, walking, friends, cooking, eating, travel (when we can again), (and of course fishing!) can all be enjoyed at leisure, books can be read in large chunks, there is time to sit and enjoy without the need to move on immediately to the next thing. We are lucky, Kathy and I have so much fun together, still love each others company, and we have the time to do it. The only urgency is that we have to acknowledge that our time is running out, but that is all the more reason to enjoy the now.
We have, and have had, time – imagine being a mayfly. They live for a day, some for only a few minutes, it gives a new meaning to one of the overused phrases I love to hate –
When Kathy suggested I post Day 201, I didn’t know what to write about. I have already written about the coronavirus, and had a rant about the state of the world and our own government’s inability to govern. Now Covid cases are rising and we are facing the second wave, American politics look so bad that some kind of civil unrest looks quite possible, and we still have a government which cannot make clear and reasoned decisions. Faced with all that something light seemed appropriate!
Yesterday I spent virtually all the daylight hours on my own, fly rod in hand, on a lake in a small open boat buffeted by the wind in the pouring rain. Some might say that is taking social distancing to an extreme. Kathy suggested I write about fly-fishing!
“The great charm of fly-fishing is that we are always learning.” ~Theodore Gordon
Many of you know some four or five years ago I took up fly-fishing, and it has become an almost obsessional pastime which gives me enormous pleasure. It is great to take up something new at my stage of life. I am of the age when progressively all the things I have been quite adept at, I do less well! If you are a longstanding golfer (which I am not), at my age your handicap declines. If you ski you cannot do the difficult runs so well. If you cycle your stamina is less. A basic fact of old age is slow decline, we are doing well if we can just mark time and not get worse at the things we are skilled at. So, take up something new, something you cannot do. As you learn you get better, very satisfying! In time you will plateau, but for me the fishing plateau is still some way ahead, there are many skills to learn and practice, so improvement continues and makes me feel a little younger!
“I go fishing not to find myself but to lose myself ” ~Joseph Monniger
The first reaction of the majority of people when they hear I am a fly fisherman is along the lines of “How nice, it must be very contemplative or meditative”. It is not! you are always doing something, always concentrating, that is why it is so pleasurable. Why would I want to take up a hobby that gives me more time to think about Covid, or politics, or climate change, or getting older? The essence of a good hobby is that it takes you into another world.
I had not quite realised before how much I love that other world of being by water, whether it is a small lake on a farm, a huge lake on the moors, a small burbling stream or a great rushing river. With the subtlest changes in wind and light everything changes on and by the water
“To go fishing is the chance to wash one’s soul with pure air, with the rush of the brook, or with the shimmer of sun on blue water. It brings meekness and inspiration from the decency of nature, charity toward tackle-makers, patience toward fish, a mockery of profits and egos, a quieting of hate, a rejoicing that you do not have to decide a darned thing until next week. And it is discipline in the equality of men – for all men are equal before fish.” ~Herbert Hoover
Some current presidents and prime ministers could do with some of Herbert Hoover’s humility!
Fly-fishing is irrational. Tossing a metal hook covered in feathers and fur into a swirling river in the hope that some passing fish will take it, is an act of faith and hope, not reason. To be a fisherman you have to be an optimist.
“If I fished only to capture fish, my fishing trips would have ended long ago. Zane Grey. It’s not even clear if catching fish is actually the point. J Gierach
There are many days when you catch no fishat all, you are just practicing casting! And then it rains, or is cold, or windy, or all three at once (just like yesterday!) and we still go on doing it, trying to make the perfect cast, find the perfect spot. And then there are the occasional days when everything goes right, and you know why you go on!
The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope. John Buchan
Somewhat to my surprise, I found that fly-fishers are predominantly men. Perhaps I had been fooled by the fact that one of the more famous fly-fishers was a woman, the late Queen Mother. Nevertheless, my fly-fishing hero is not a hero, but a heroine! I needed to learn to cast properly, and after extensive searches for book and video/web tutorials I discovered Joan Wulff. At the age of five or six she was often taken fishing by her father on a rowboat – father fished, mother rowed, Joan helped. She formed the firm opinion “that it was better to be the fisherman than the rower” – and so she became. In 1951 she won the American National Fisherman’s Distance Fly Casting event – she was the only woman competitor. The next year they changed the rules to much heavier tackle, too heavy for her to manage! She had won not by power, but by technique – with elegance!. Every sport has the occasional superstar who makes it look effortless, who is graceful – Sebastian Coe running, David Gower batting. Such is Joan Wulff. Now in her nineties she still teaches and is still elegant! I have learned so much from her books and videos, my casting is much improved, but I am still a huffer and puffer who gets by!
If you can handle heat, cold, wind, rain, and biting insects, with dignity, you will love fly-fishing. Joan Wulff
It is hard to explain why I get so much pleasure from this hobby. There is certainly an element of the primaeval hunter gatherer experience. And then no two fishing days are the same, there is constant variation, constant learning. But in the end it is all a matter of taste, I like White Burgundy and not Sauvignon, Beethoven and not Berlioz, lamb and not pork, fishing and not golf!
I hope your other worlds give you as much pleasure as mine does.
Stay safe,
Terry
“I fish because I love to; because I love the environs that trout are found, which are invariably beautiful, …because trout do not lie or cheat and cannot be bought or bribed or impressed by power, but respond only to quietude and humility and endless patience; …..and, finally, not because I regard fishing as being so terribly important but because I suspect that so many other concerns of men are equally unimportant — and not nearly so much fun” ~Robert Traver. 1964
Our cable internet at home has gone down, and we cannot get an engineer to attend until Tuesday evening. So, sadly, we have no proper effective net access, which makes posting a blog very difficult. There will therefore be a temporary pause – we hope to be back on Wednesday (16th September).
“Reflections from self-isolation in Bristol” is the subtitle of this blog. About 5 months of a combination of lockdown then some easing, social distancing, not travelling, no concerts or plays – the ideal opportunity for internal reflection, deep thought, sorting out one’s life – but somehow life has remained busy, full of things to do, I am not sure what deep thoughts or revelations have come to me. There have certainly been some trivial ones, and a lot of learning about a brand new disease. Kathy has primed me to share something of what I have learned about Covid, so that first, then some other thoughts from isolation.
Covid thoughts
It is important to stress that what follows is my personal understanding of what information I can find, it is not a textbook or authoritative statement, so please read it with healthy scepticism!
When Covid first hit us this year it was a new disease, we knew virtually nothing about it, we were ignorant because there was no knowledge available. Many mistakes were made, most countries locked down too late, but in the absence of any real knowledge reluctance to take such a major step which greatly damages people’s lives and the economy was understandable. Neither did we know how Covid spreads, which made it very difficult to take targeted action to prevent it, so we did everything, we stayed home, social distanced, decontaminated anything we touched, (including the mail) and many wore masks if they had to go out.
In the time since this first hit us, much has been learned, but it is difficult to find helpful information amidst all the complex information and false information being spread around. As an individual I want to know how it spreads. What is the risk of meeting people? Is there aerosol or droplet spread? What are the implications of this? Is there really a great risk of contaminant spread? And how many people are there out there in my area who are spreading this virus? – one of the major determinants of what I decide to do. And then…what is the risk to me if I do get the virus? It is only with some answers to these questions that I can make decisions in my life, that I can decide the risk of taking actions that are important to me, and thus whether to do them or not.
When the virus first hit us, we locked down to suppress the peak and stop hospitals being overwhelmed. There was a school of thought, which I admit seemed somewhat attractive, that if we are all going to get it anyway, why not do it quickly and get it over with. This is carefully reviewed in this article (https://www.medscape.com/viewarticle/931474?src=mkm_ret_200728_mscpmrk_covid_overwith_int&uac=365112EK&impID=2477899&faf=1): in essence the idea is flawed as with what we have already learned of treatment, e.g. nursing prone, when to start ventilation if needed, prevention of thrombosis, use of dexamethasone, and some other drugs, the chance of death if severely ill with the virus today is much less than half what it was back in April, and is steadily improving. Anyway, I want to survive to get the vaccine!
The virus enters the body by our respiratory tract, and when we are infectious is excreted from it. There seems now to be a consensus that outside of the hospital setting, the most common way of infection is by close prolonged contact with infected individuals in an enclosed environment, the reason why the major route of spread is within families.
Why is this? There is a great debate about “droplet” or “aerosol” spread. Initially spread was thought to be largely by droplets, large particles typically generated by coughing or sneezing, which rapidly fall to the ground or onto surfaces. This was the basis for the 2 metre rule, droplets fall so fast that beyond 2 metres you are unlikely to inhale them, although surfaces may be contaminated (more on that later).
This always seemed a little simplistic to me, especially when in my garden, I can smell a smoker passing by several metres away the other side of an eight-foot garden wall. Aerosols are much smaller and linger in the air for longer, up to a few hours, and spread farther. Aerosols can be generated by humans, especially when shouting, breathing heavily (e.g. exercise), singing etc. This sounds very scary, but the dose of virus in aerosols is very low, and with any degree of ventilation (including the open air) aerosols are rapidly diluted, so 2 metres was probably still good advice even if for the wrong understanding. Furthermore, in the open exposed to UV rays, the virus in the air only remains infectious for 8-19 minutes, although it may do so for up to 3 or 4 hours indoors. The virus is not one of the most highly infectious ones in the sense that more than a tiny dose is needed to cause clinical infection, some 20 times larger than the dose needed to cause measles. However, if you remain in an enclosed space, breathing and rebreathing the air, the dose you receive may build up and cause illness. This explains some of the major spreading events noted, choirs, gyms, places of worship, meatpacking factories, call centres, some restaurants and factories, and of course families. If aerosol transmission is of any importance, then the wearing of masks when in an enclosed space is a useful, but far from total, protection (https://www.medscape.com/viewarticle/931320#vp_2). This mode of transmission is now accepted by WHO and by British scientists advising the government as one of the ways in which the virus spreads(https://www.who.int/news-room/commentaries/detail/transmission-of-sars-cov-2-implications-for-infection-prevention-precautions)( https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/907587/s0643-nervtag-emg-role-aerosol-transmission-covid-19-sage-48.pdf).
So what of spread by contamination? This is common in other viruses, including some corona viruses. Droplets contaminate surfaces, someone touches them and then their eyes, nose, or mouth giving the virus entry to their body. What is important to know is the dose needed, and how long the virus remains “viable” when it dries in a surface. An early study suggested the virus could remain infectious for up to 4 hours on copper and some other surfaces, 24 hours on cardboard, but up to 3 days on stainless steel and plastic. However the dose of virus applied to the surfaces in these studies was 100 times that likely to occur in a real situation. In practice contact infectiousness is probably a lot less than feared and does not appear to have been a major route of spread. Although caution and hand washing are still important, we have probably focussed too much on this (this is a very good article https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2020/07/scourge-hygiene-theater/614599/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=share&fbclid=IwAR1EuJUDB3n6ZVEbMlGnmpXhq4ntFnE3YmZLm1R_ZNKVK98FIBxY6fSQqIo).
A good example of this analysis is an office block in South Korea, where the majority of workers in a call centre (talking loudly, long time, closed spaces) contracted Covid, but less than 1% of a thousand or so other workers in the block got it, despite passing the call centre workers in lifts and corridors, touching the same door handles and lift buttons etc.
Added to considerations on routes of infection is the prevalence of the virus. Bristol has a very low rate, probably less than 1 in 5000 people have it at any time, and the majority of those are not in circulation – they are isolating or unwell at home. The chance of any one random individual I meet here being infectious is less than 1 in 10,000 – but if I went to a large gathering the odds increase dramatically. On top of that, with new understanding in treatment the chance of death if you get the disease is less than half what it was a few months ago.
What does this all mean for me? I am not going to the gym, choir, restaurants or concerts (or even factories and call centres) where we are in close proximity to lots of people breathing the same air for over 15 minutes. We are not flying or using public transport. We wear masks in any public enclosed space. We wash our hands a lot! I happily walk down the street, or go masked to a proper open-air market which is well organised with good spacing, one-way routes etc. I am going fishing, a solitary hobby, but I spray the boat just in case, (obsessional, it has been in the open air at least 12 hours since anyone else was on it). We go walking, we see friends for tea, drinks or even a meal in their or our garden, and with carefully chosen friends who have been as cautious in isolation as we have, we meet inside with a degree of social distancing and windows open. We will go to appropriately organised shops if we need to. Our youngest son who has had the disease visited us for the first time in 8 months: after being on public transport he changed clothes on arrival. We may take a drink in a pub garden or open-air cafe.
With more understanding we are more relaxed and feel able to make our own decisions. Nothing is risk free, but while the prevalence remains low in Bristol, we do feel able to make decisions to do things which seem important enough to us to take the small risks we are beginning to understand. Nevertheless, roll on the vaccine!
Other thoughts!
Every morning we have developed the habit of having tea in bed, with half an orange each. One morning when it was my turn to prepare this, I was separating out the orange segments, there were ten, and I fell to wondering whether all oranges had the same number of segments. 76 six years old and I had never thought about this before! Mr Google informed me that all oranges have ten segments. This seemed an odd number to me, nature is so often binary, cells divide into 2 then 4 then 8 – 2,4, then 8 for nature to appreciate. How on earth did oranges evolve to have 10 segments, a very non-binary number. There are of course a few rogue oranges which lose or gain an odd segment, just like there is the occasional four-leafed clover. Come to think of it, how did clover evolve to have three leaves…………
Then there has been the hay fever season – lots of sneezing. We all sneeze a lot, a complex manoeuvre. It crossed my mind that as often as we do it, we cannot actually do it voluntarily, on demand – are there any other actions like that over which we cannot exert voluntary control. Hiccoughs come a close second, but I can initiate a pretty good imitation…
There is a big industry in hand creams, washing liquids which do or don’t damage your hands. We have been washing our hands furiously the last few months – but the skin has not changed!
Another result of Covid thinking is a forced acceptance of my age. I do not feel older in myself, but at 76, in everything I read about Covid, I find myself in the aged high risk category, the risk stratifications never start at 80 or 85, always 75 or below!
Lockdown has made me realise quite how privileged we are, in our large house and garden, our own little kingdom……
Then there is the excitement of lockdown ……
As for political observations and thoughts…..
This old cartoon from the New Yorker sums up my Covid thinking!
Should be: “I am not thinking anything, I’m just musing”
The world does not change much. These cartoons were from the New Yorker in 1981, except the last which was from about 10 years ago.
I have watched the British political scene of the last few days with a mix of disbelief, fury, occasional short-lived sympathy/understanding, and a sense of despair. The PM has returned from illness, and since then things have taken turn after turn for the worse! After a bad start with Covid ( the lockdown was clearly one or two weeks late, lives were lost, the PM in charge), I thought the government, in the PM’s absence, did a reasonable job in giving information, giving clear messages, setting up Nightingale Hospitals, dealing with a horrendous increase in demand for PPE from 30,000 nursing homes which they were not supplying before, building up a UK capacity for virus testing from an almost non-existent base, trying to support people economically. And we seemed to crack the problem, the virus is on the decline.
Then the PM returned. First he announced what were small but reasonable and helpful relaxations of the lockdown. Unfortunately he announced late on a Sunday night that many should go back to work the next day, but not use public transport. His message was muddled and attached to a rather vague slogan to “Stay alert”, contradicted by other members of the cabinet the next day, modified . This was a presentational disaster which left many confused about the relaxations of restrictions, which when analysed in the cool light of subsequent days were not unreasonable and offered us significant relief.
Confusion was decreasing, hope was rising, then the Dominic Cummings story broke. Enter Boris again! He completely exonerated him without giving clear reasons, whilst casting doubt on the veracity of some unspecified statements (isn’t there another world leader similarly inclined?). I was so angry watching I had to leave the room! Then Cummings appeared before the press. I had some sympathy for him as he spoke, especially when he said they were often scared in his home because of threats and he didn’t want to be there with a young child if he and his wife were both ill. I thought he may have simply panicked and made a bad decision. Sadly, on reflection, sympathy has gone! He broke many of the rules, expressed no regret, or no real understanding of the people’s anger.
The saddest thing is that this has clouded the more important issues, made people angry, has suggested the rules can be broken – at least by “important” people – and there is a mood of defiance. The risk is that this will lead to such a lack of adherence to the restrictions that we will get another virus wave.
A more able politician would have understood the public mood and the dangers and would have sacked him, with words along the lines of “I personally understand how Mr Cummings felt, but I see how people feel and how it looks, it was a poor action for a man in his position, and he has to go”. We all know Boris cannot manage without Cummings, but he could have kept him in the background in some other nominal role whilst still getting his advice but regaining public trust.
Enter Boris again. Yesterday he came back announcing a few more welcome relaxations, but in the progress ad-libbing about some things, such as having barbecues together – which the scientific advisers subtly refuted – and thus again sowing confusion. And then, with a straight face he told us that with track and trace, contacts must self isolate at home, this is an instruction which must be followed as our duty for the good of us all – without any hint of irony that this was not apparently so for Cummings.
if this didn’t have such potentially serious consequences it would be the most entertaining political pantomime!
When politicians are so inept I am reminded of this quote from the German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, sent from prison shortly before he was executed by Hitler in 1945.
In the UK we should be a little worried, but Americans beware!
Rant over. On the bright side, the Covid figures here are still improving, life is a little more relaxed, we don’t have Trump as leader, the sun is shining, the sky blue, the garden a delight, we have goldcrests, goldfinches, blackcaps, jays and many other birds visiting us…and I have been fishing. We are now able to see our friends and family at a safe outdoor social distance. And we can go on long country walks.
On our walk yesterday we saw lambs gambol over an electric fence – not so stupid after all! They gave us a good stare
And they have a good sense of social responsibility –
The 50th day of self-isolation. 50 is a golden number, why I am privileged to try to provide the golden words I am not quite sure, but I will do my best. For those of you who do not know, this is the editor/publisher/techy writing today, aka “the husband” or simply “Terry”.
After 50 days I have to confess that I am quite happy, I would not go as far as saying I am enjoying it, but as someone who scores somewhat on the introvert scale, I m not finding it too bad. I am of course highly privileged, we have a house large enough for me to have my own study, otherwise known as my “man cave” or den. I am surrounded by books, photographs, a mass of electronic equipment, computers, and all my fly-tying materials. The study is only moderately tidy – all those tidying jobs I have been meaning to do for years, and for which I now, at least theoretically, have time, have not been done. Just as I did not look forward to doing them in more normal times, I don’t fancy doing them now, and I suspect they will never be done.
Kathy and I have discussed why we feel reasonably content in this strange situation. We think it is because as we are retired, we have a regular pension and therefore secure income , we have routines for doing things at home, we are used to spending a lot of time together in the house (but not necessarily in the same room!), and in lockdown most of the things we do are things we would do anyway. The difference is that in the “old normal” we would also have done a lot of other things as well. This is a lot less dramatic change than that which younger couples are experiencing, when for the first time both are at home, children are not at school, jobs may be lost or part-time at home, finances may be difficult. We are very lucky – me especially, I live with Kathy.
Having said that, there are times when I wonder whether it would not have been better to have not been able to fly home and to have been trapped in New Zealand! We wanted to come home to see family and friends, but we can’t see them anyway, only on Skype or WhatsApp or Zoom etc, and we could do that from anywhere in the world! To be locked down on the Rangitikei River with all that walking and fishing, or by Lake Rotorua or in some other remote place does have its appeal. And there is no virus there now, it shows what action by a decisive woman leader can do! There is however something very comforting about being home, and the family do feel close if an emergency arises, and there is not a twelve hour time difference, we can talk with them at normal times of day, and this is a lovely house, and we love the garden, so being home is best. The garden is a mystery, I am spending more time tending it than ever before and yet there is always more to be done. How did I ever manage before?
So what else do I do? I play a lot of chess, but am not improving, I read a lot, but the pile of books waiting is still huge, I plan food deliveries, plan menus and cook, eat and drink, but still get hungry, and spend a huge amount of time talking to family and friends on various forms of social media from the telephone to full video. As a friend said, this should not be called “social distancing”, but” physical distancing”. I cannot go fly fishing, but I can practice casting in the admittedly limited space in the garden – I ought to be quite adept at it when I eventually get to the water again! My fly tying has improved, and my fly boxes are very neat and tidy, ready for the day when I get out.
And then we watch the daily briefing from Downing Street. Apart from that we largely avoid the news! The daily briefing is a good discipline. It always starts with the government view, to be interpreted but not dismissed, and it frequently gives insights into the logistical problems of dealing with this crisis. Then there are the statistics and the views and answers to questions from the scientific and clinical experts, always illuminating. It becomes apparent that for the moment this is not a political issue but a logistical problem which involves us all, and that as a country we are being directed by science, experts, and what information is available in a rapidly developing and changing situation: I am thankful for that, some other world leaders should take note! Finally the journalists ask questions, which largely seem to demonstrate their inability! Polls have shown that from watching this the public (including us) are becoming more and more disillusioned with the journalists, rather neutral about the politicians and more trusting in the less extrovert experts.
The public are also fickle. One of the popular games at the moment seems to be “choose your expert”, i.e. the one who says what you want to hear. A supposed expert who says what people want to hear can gain a huge following. There was a recent interview with a Swedish professor saying that lockdowns are wrong. This has proved popular, although it is largely based on a hunch and several bits of false data: it is not impossible he is right, but if he is right he is lucky, not an expert. David Icke had 30 million followers on Facebook whilst propagating completely unfounded claims about 5G spreading the virus as well as much other similarly false information. Thankfully Facebook have removed him. People pushing this stuff are dangerous and will cause untold harm. Taking disinfectant will not be mentioned further!
I am lucky, at heart I am an optimist.
Amidst all the political bluster and press rampage, it looks as if we are learning and beginning to see a way forward. We have suppressed the virus peak, we have not overwhelmed health services, the NHS has shown the value of a co-ordinated service which has responded rapidly to demand, there have always been more than enough doctors, nurses, ITU beds and ventilators for patients. A first drug has been shown to have some effect in treating this disease, and amazing progress has been made on vaccines. We are beginning to frustrate the grim reaper.
The government has put out a financial package to try to mitigate some of the economic effects of this pandemic, a package which concentrates largely on people, not on big industry and the rich.
And there have been worse plagues than Covid….
We know that for a long time we cannot go back to the “old norm”, that there will be a “new norm”, but I am optimistic about the new norm. We are having to learn to behave in new ways in this pandemic, to look at new ways of working, travelling, shopping, interacting. Not all of this is bad, we have to take the positive lessons into the new norm, the new norm could be better than the old!
These rambling thoughts demonstrate why older people should retire gracefully.
You will be pleased to know that Kathy will be back as blogger tomorrow!
We went for a walk. We left the house and went for a walk. Doesn’t that sound so normal? We hadn’t been out for over thirty days and it was pouring and I thought that might mean there weren’t so many people around. It would seem I was right. We walked on streets close by our house and then ventured up onto the Downs, the lovely green open space not far from home. We ambled for half and hour, actually we strode out for that time, walking together and staying well away from the few others who were also braving the weather. It felt so good to feel the rain as we marched along. My husband the scientist found a great article on the spread of the virus which I attach below. Reading this made us both feel more comfortable about leaving the cocoon of Chez Feest for the outside world. I’m still not keen to step out when there are too many people about and you can’t safely pass them at the required distance. We shall go forth cautiously. Another walk might be in order.
Today is grey and still and the rain has stopped. Spring flowers are finally getting the watering they need. After many hours on the net looking for plants, there are some lovely babies now sitting on the garden wall in their little pots growing up and getting ready to take over from the tulips. They came from Lanarkshire and were beautifully packaged and look excellent specimens. I would share the website I found them on but there is no point as they have nothing left. Terry spent yesterday moving them from their original packaging and pricking them out to the little pots our plants normally come in. Just as well he is a hoarder and keeps such things in the garden shed! I would most likely have tossed those pots out ages ago. Just as well, too that he spent some of his summers as a teenager working at a garden centre and knew exactly what to do with these little plants. There are more coming over the next weeks from two different sources. Determination and sitting on the phone and internet helped us to track these down. Our beautiful garden is worth all the effort. I can’t imagine not having it! The poor folks who haven’t a place outside must be struggling. My heart goes out to them.
I read somewhere that the trivial things have been taken from us, so we have to talk about the things that matter, and about how you feel these days. As I’ve always done that anyway I don’t find it too difficult. People can no longer talk about their journey into work; for the most part they aren’t going in to work, or their favourite sports team as there is no sport. How difficult it must be then for those people who don’t find it easy to share how they feel at the best of times! We are speaking to people by telephone or internet for longer than we normally would, and more frequently. At least we all have something to share no matter who we are. We are all in this together.
Some good news from the Southwest region. Our infection rates have been at the bottom of the country since this epidemic began. On the daily briefing slide setting out hospital cases we are the blue line on the graph that is constantly flat lined. We hear from our friends on the frontline in Bristol hospitals, that some elective surgery is being carried out as there is no point having empty hospital beds and many staff have relatively little to do!. Bristol has the capacity for a new hospital with one thousand beds. Let’s hope it isn’t ever needed. The government are repeatedly being criticized for the unavailability of PPE (personal protective equipment) yet, the numbers in hospital are lower than they expected. Can you imagine what it would be like if all those beds were full?
Stay Home Protect the NHS, Save Lives That part of the plan seems to be working. Now they need to ramp up the plans for saving lives in nursing and care homes.
As it was the weekend, I baked a cake. This one is polenta and orange and Terry’s favourite. Recipes provided on request!
My editor has written a post that will give you all another version of Feest isolation days. He’s both my editor and resident teccy. And also my lovely husband and the man I am very pleased to be locked down with! It’s Day twenty five and we are still at Chez Feest and haven’t been out into the world for all this time. If any of you want to share something from wherever you are in the world Email it to me or simply add a comment. People are scattered all over the globe reading this and keeping connected is what it’s all about. For today, the view from Terry’s perspective. See you tomorrow. Guest Post on Day Twenty-five……
It is with trepidation that I step into Kathy’s blogging role. Her prose sparkles and inspires like champagne, mine is more solid and opaque, like lukewarm tea – but hopefully still a stimulant. I thought it should also look different, perhaps a change of font, but Times New Roman is used everywhere, Arial is too cold and scientific, Book Antiqua too florid, so I simply settled for italics, often used to indicate a quote or insertion from elsewhere!
These are strange times. The world is shutdown, we hide in our houses from an invisible enemy, much of the life we are used to has stopped – and yet when I look out, everything looks normal. A colourful spring is unfolding in the garden, the dunnocks are building a nest in the ivy by the kitchen door as always, the morning birdsong is deafening, the sun has brought out the peacock tail and fritillary butterflies, the nights are getting longer, the days are getting warmer. But life is not normal. My book club recently read a most amazing book, “Chernobyl Prayer”*. After Chernobyl, the peasant farmers could not believe they could not drink the milk from their cows or eat the vegetables from their fields, or even go outside, because it all looked just the same as it had before, and many ignored the warnings with awful consequences. When I look out to the garden I understand how they felt. Sadly a few people here are acting that way, but thankfully it appears that in the UK the large majority of people are heeding the warnings and staying at home.
As our society faces the threat of the Covid virus there is palpable distress and anxiety around. It made me wonder how people felt when facing earlier pandemics, when there was little scientific knowledge and much superstition. As I read more, I got a new perspective. We could have been facing the black death of 1348 – historians now estimate that half the population of Europe died. We have instant information, we are bombarded with facts and figures, the government updates us, organises for us, supports us, we can communicate in so many ways with friends in so many places. In 1348 in our town or village we would have had no communication whilst we watched our village and family die around us in a few short months. I can’t imagine how frightening that must have been.
In the great plague of 1665 in England 25%, of the population of London died. The Spanish flu of 1918 (which actually originated in New York, not Spain) probably killed 50 million people, and was deadly across the age spectrum and to the otherwise fit, and especially so in the 20-40 age group and in young children: it may have killed 2% of the world’s population. We are facing a horrible situation at present, but coronavirus probably kills less than 1% of all those infected, and mostly people with other major conditions, or the very elderly. This is still too many deaths, to be avoided if at all possible, and the elderly issue is not a great comfort to me, but this is not on the scale of some earlier pandemics. In addition we have medical support, especially breathing support, on a scale never seen before. I am thankful to be facing this in the 21st century.
In thinking about this pandemic and our response to it, and how I feel about it, I realised something about our society. Someone once asked the anthropologist Margaret Mead what she considered to be the first evidence of civilization. She answered: a human thigh bone with a healed fracture found in an archaeological site 15,000 years old. Mead points out that for a person to survive a broken femur the individual had to have been cared for long enough for that bone to heal. Others must have provided shelter, protection, food and drink over an extended period of time for this kind of healing to be possible. Margaret Mead suggested that the first indication of human civilization is care over time for someone who is broken and in need,
Our whole society is under lockdown, this is causing vast numbers of people distress, loss of freedom, loss of income, loss of jobs, loss of their life as they know it. It will stimulate a worldwide recession which will take a long time to recover. We are all in this together, we are all taking action together, we are all undergoing hardship together, but then I remember most of us are at low risk: effectively we are all doing this largely to protect the vulnerable and the elderly. I find this comforting. Perhaps our society is not as broken as we often fear.
It must be time for a little humour….
And not all carers are at high risk………
Enjoy your day,
Terry
* – “Chernobyl Prayer”, by Russian Nobel prize winner Svetlana Alexievich, one of the most amazing books I have read in recent years. The author has a gift of getting people to talk, and of listening. She spent years around Chernobyl researching this, and has collated people’s words and memories into a thrilling read. Reading it I was enthralled, educated and informed, chilled, inspired, often sad but finally somewhat uplifted.
