From where did I catch this infernal virus?

After receiving some worrying and potentially serious health news, it is inevitable one casts a tired eye back over recent history and reviews what could have been done differently to avoid such an outcome.

Where on earth, for example, did I manage to pick up the blasted coronavirus having barely being out of my house for the last couple of weeks?

Apart from fleeting visits to shops and an occasional and brief trip to a pub – both with no or extremely fleeting social contact – trips out of the house have been little more than strolls in nearby parks with the family.  For much of the rest of the time – like so many others – I have been camping in my living room, working from home.

One can never be sure, of course, but after considering all the options, the overwhelmingly likely source is the school which my two daughters, eight and five, attend.

At first, I cast my curious eye upon the girls as the most likely culprits; both have had mild colds, was that the nascent virus in our house?

But, in a letter from Public Health England in September, distributed by our school, parents were told:

‘Your child does not need a test if they have a runny nose, are sneezing or feeling unwell but do not have a temperature, cough or loss of, or change in, sense of smell or taste because these are not normally symptoms of coronavirus’

The bold passage is PHE’s so, perhaps, after all, the girls are innocent; though it must be said that the symptoms of this virus seem to be multifarious and the list is augmented on a regular basis.

But what about the daily routine of taking them to school and collecting them afterwards, where scores of parents gather, most not wearing masks and with social distancing almost impossible to maintain?

We have tried to avoid the queues, arriving late both morning and afternoon to avoid the standing around in a line along the pavement; my wife and I have always worn masks during these trips and we try and stay two metres from other parents. But, with the nature of the buildings and busy roads and the behaviour of some other parents, sometimes getting closer to other people than one intends is unavoidable.

It is this gathering of people, the majority of whom we do not know – and we know even less about the risks to which they are exposed – that must be the mostly likely root of my infection.

I received my positive result 51 hours after an in-person test was taken on Friday 16^th.  I had been feeling really unwell the day before – too unwell to walk uphill for ¾ of a mile – but was grateful that there was a testing site not too far away.  I was told that, if I received no results after 48 hours, to ring and chase.  And so I did.  During this phone call, I was informed that I need not try and pursue my result until 5 days had elapsed.  I had to wonder just how many people I might infect – and how many more might they infect – were I to get on with my life normally for those five days.  This certainly hammered home the uselessness of large-scale testing if obtaining results and tracing contacts lags so very far behind.

Fortunately, I did not have to wait for five days.  The next step, after receiving the bad news, was that I had to complete the government’s test and trace questionnaire. 

There seemed no obvious place to record ‘gathering at the school gates’ as a ‘new activity outside your home’. There is an ‘add workplace or school’ section but again, the inevitable gathering of crowds of parents outside school gates – visible close to so many primary schools in particular, whilst the children are being slowly and carefully funnelled into their classroom bubbles – is not mentioned.

It is possible to work around these constrictions and, under ‘other’, I submitted the queue as the most likely source of the virus.

But without a dedicated channel, it surely makes it much harder to gather the statistics and  monitor whether schools are the likely source of infections?  This couldn't be a policy decision by any chance? 

 

We were thrilled when the children finally returned, full time, to school in September after six months of being stuck at home, but the potential risks of infection through school have been consistently downplayed by the government.

Test and trace boss, Baroness Dido Harding, told a Commons select committee, that no modelling had predicted there might be a surge in cases as schools went back in September.  Blaming the government advisory group SAGE for the modelling, Lady Harding told the science and technology committee:

'I don’t think anybody was expecting to see the really sizeable increase in demand that we’ve seen over the course of the last few weeks. In none of the modelling was that expected.'

At which point, a weary nation guffawed in unison.  Whoever imagined that, with hundreds of thousands of children and young people criss-crossing our roads and transport system, and flocking to new towns and cities around the country, there might be – there would inevitably be – an upsurge of infections?  

I am not suggesting that the great return to education should not have happened.  But, for many, it is hard to stomach that there sometimes appears to have been so very little planning for this exceptionally important and predictable development.

Daily risks have to be taken; schools and universities must stay open; but everything should be done to monitor the movement of Covid-19 if we are going to learn to live with it.  Unless test-trace-isolate works as a triumvirate – the three in one in indivisible union – then there will be no chance for us.  And unless we recognise that daily life – including the crowds gathering at the school gates – is, for many, a very likely source of infection, then we may as well give up.  

Surely we are weary of boasts about numbers of tests and panic about pubs and must recognise other obvious threats?  Otherwise, we are surely in danger of listing our possible sources of infection according to whether or not they might be politically awkward.

Note

I should say that it seems we have escaped with an exceedingly mild version of the virus as I suffered from unpleasant symptoms for just a day, have now only a slight cough and the rest of the family doing even better. 

Now we are planning lots of games, films and books for the next two weeks and thank you for all the lovely comments

Is it last orders for Britain's pubs?

Some may believe that the pattern of this government during the wretched coronavirus pandemic has been to announce measures with impressive vim and vigour only for their intentions to be let down by a failure of having done the vital legwork and consultation beforehand.

It’s not for me to make any judgement, but it is clear that the pub industry urgently needs a statement providing clarity and direction unless the entire sector is to be irredeemably damaged.

July 4 – the earliest date the government has said the hospitality sector could reopen – is just 16 days away yet operators are entirely in the dark as to whether they will be able to do so.

Pub operator Oakman Inns has today unilaterally decided it will reopen on this date as owner Peter Borg-Neal has clearly been driven to distraction by the complete failure of this administration to give him information.

If he is to open by this date, he knows he needs to make it Covid secure and that requires time and work.

The British Beer and Pub Association, alongside several pub operators, has pleaded with the government for a decision on reopening dates and the 2-metre rule by today – Friday June 18.

We know a person is more likely to catch the virus when closer than 2-metres yet most other countries have reduced this measure and are opening up. The number of cases in this country remains stubbornly high but is falling and deaths – especially in London and a couple of other areas – are very slight. There is obviously a balance of risk – this is well known; the lack of a decision, though, baffles many.

This evening, I’ve received a set of demands from the Campaign for Pubs - an organisation run by former Liberal Democrat MP, Greg Mulholland who has worked over many years fighting to keep pubs going.

Here are the demands - will the government help at all? One can only hope.

The full list of the 10 Points to Save Pubs is: 

1. A definite date for opening NOW! (by Friday 19^th June)

2. Social distancing of 1 metre - not 2 metres (or most pubs simply cannot open)

3. Clear full guidance for pubs and insurance companies to be issued by Friday 26^th June – pubs need real clarity about any physical infrastructure requirements, and also about specific responsibilities and liability issues, so that they can be properly insured under fair policies which will be honoured 

4. Relaxation of licensing restrictions where extra spaces would help smaller pubs operate more viably and safely 

5. A strong mandatory Covid-19 rent code of conduct including a statutory right to a rent review for all pub tenants 

6. A rent-free period for all pubs, and an extended period of protection from landlords if rent cannot be paid

7. Continued financial support for staff – extended fully-paid furlough where pubs are unable to viably/safely trade due to continued Government restrictions  

8. VAT to 5% for at least 12 months - the only sensible way to help with reduced margins, as any price increases would reduce trade even further

9. Business rates reform - announced now and implemented in April 2021 – and rates relief for all pubs until a reformed system comes in

10. A 12 month ban on all change of use for pubs – pubs need protection in the planning system now even more than ever

Living and learning from lockdown

When the lockdown began, as the government instructed people to stay indoors but for fleeting occasions, the prospect of dark empty streets was somewhat unnerving.

It may have been a natural middle-class reaction, thinking that while I’d carefully obey instructions only the reckless and dangerous would flout such restrictions, given that the threat to our health comes in the shape of something as intangible as an invisible virus.

Fears of societal disintegration, as in Golding’s Lord of the Flies came to mind; or would the dystopian chaos of Cuaron’s Children of Men or even Mad Max – with marauding gangs of eco-warriors, freedom fighters and bounty hunters – be made flesh by the Covid-19 crisis?

Any such fears were not just misplaced, but wholly nonsensical of course. But, perhaps something more remarkable has occurred. Far from creaking and failing around us, social structures and the strengths of communities – at least from this corner of south east London – appear remarkably resilient.

The most obvious signal of this coherence is the week’s social highlight when neighbours emerge from their houses to clap the NHS each Thursday evening. It’s clearly not just our streets, the noise echoes all around. Indeed, every week, someone is, hopefully safely, setting off fireworks to celebrate the efforts of doctors and nurses. Despite my reticence towards such publicly emotional displays, it’s impossible not to be moved and get involved.

Support groups have spontaneously appeared in every community, offering the elderly and vulnerable support. Within minutes of signing up for one on behalf of some relatives who live elsewhere, we were inundated with messages offering to help with shopping, deliveries and other assistance from complete strangers.

This perspective, however, inevitably comes from something of a position of privilege. Our two daughters are young enough for their school absence not to be significantly detrimental. They have a garden in which to run around and we have secured relatively safe and secure ways of getting enough food. We are working from home and it is a tight squeeze; but we are still working.  As far as the girls are concerned, they can still construe these weeks – in the sunshine, with Spring emerging, with a smattering of school working continuing but not overwhelming and access to wider family and friends available via social media – almost as a holiday. It’s a time that may long linger in their memory with a fondness.

How one copes during the lockdown is a measure of entitlement. Less than a stone’s throw from my house, there are flats where the occupants have no garden at all, where venturing into the spring sunshine for anything other than exercise or dog walking risks at least a reprimand from the police. Unless one is living under such circumstances it is very hard to truly imagine how hard such conditions are.

Labour MP Karen Buck has regularly posted about the domestic challenges some of her constituents are facing. Just today she wrote about an appeal to her from an NHS hospital worker living in a one bad flat with her husband and three children

‘She can’t self isolate, she’s terrified for her family and it’s impacting on her mental health’.

It isn’t the fault of any cabinet minister that they may have more than one comfortable home and garden but instructing people such as those above, who are in such tight circumstances, to remain indoors, must be exasperating and angering.

At times police have appeared heavy-handed in their handling of the lockdown rules but they are learning how to operate in a strange new world as are we all.  But we haven’t seen great confrontations between the authorities and anti-lockdown protesters, as has been seen in the United States and Paris. The country has taken to the grim challenge with perhaps surprising success.

It’s all the more imperative, then, to make the effort to recognise how exceptionally difficult life is for many at the moment; and to sympathise – even if we cannot truly empathise – with those whose lives have been thrown into chaos, confusion and desperation.  We must really work hard to ensure that, when these exceptionally strange times are over, we remember who kept our lives going, which roles are ‘key’, which workers underpin our sense of community and who are the most vulnerable people in our society.  Where would we be without doctors, nurses, healthcare assistants, carers, volunteers, transport workers, shop workers, rubbish collectors, delivery couriers? Our democracy is only as good as the lives of those who have not got sharp elbows, or a house and garden, or a supportive family, and who may not always be able to look after themselves.