Nineteen

Nineteen

Nineteen – The Covid Diaries

My son Joseph is 19 the same as the Coronavirus.  I’m 59 so have already had a good portion of my life.  I worry that Joseph and Sidney 17 may never get to have the opportunities that I’ve enjoyed.  It feels like the world is changing, and that Covid 19 is a wake up call. An alarm bell beeping away on the phone. But do we choose to hear it’s call; wake up, get up and do what needs to be done.  Or do we turn, it off, roll over and slumber our way towards Armageddon?  Even the snooze button doesn’t do the job, the time is now, we need to act and act fast.  

It’s a few months in and things are getting strange.  There is social distancing and talk about lock down.  How far does this go, will we see armed units on the streets, food shortages, looting and shoot to kill?  We seem to be sleepwalking towards a very unclear future, each day worse than the last, each day a new normal which resets our notions of how society works.  Nina and I walked to Aldi today, a lovely crisp sunny Sunday. It felt like a Sunday back in Cheam where I grew up in the 60s or 70s, most of the shops were shut and few people on the street. It didn’t feel like a Brighton Sunday, gone were the bustling pubs and cafes, tables outside the Komedia, rammed with punters, the Bristol bar doing a roaring trade. No, all closed, the odd shop in the North Laine open, trying to make any money, but nobody buying, nobody to buy.  Aldi was strange as well, people steering a wide berth of each other, shopping wearing gloves.  Fresh food in plentiful supply, there is no shortage, but this is the first time in two weeks that I have found pasta, and eggs which have also recently gone missing from shelves. It feels like the panic buying of the last few days might be abaiting, I guess everyone has filled their cupboards and freezers, and there are only so many loo rolls you need. 

Had a look today, at how long the virus survives on surfaces, 72 hours on metal and plastic, 24 hours on cardboard and 4 hours in the air. Nina asked me what surviving in the air has got to do with anything? I don’t know, I guess her point is that you can’t catch anything from the air, that you breathe unless somebody nearby coughs and the droplets get inside your system.  I suggested that the longer survival on hard surfaces rather than cardboard was to do with moisture and absorbency. Again I don’t know, there’s lots of things about this virus that we don’t know and that’s scary. Apparently 4 in 5 people will get the virus mildly and may not even realise they have had Covid 19. But for the other 20% it will be a rough ride, fever, sweating, sore throat, burning eyes, some needing ventilation, and some dying.  This is real, at the moment it feels far away, but then people aren’t dying in Brighton yet.  They will, and then somebody we know will die, then it will become personal and far too real.

Watching or reading the news, listening to friends, is depressing, misinformation is depressing and real information is worrying. Thank goodness I live in a large house with my family, we are a mutual support network, and can move around without tripping over each other.  I worry about those who live alone, or with others but in a small space. Claustrophobia, strained friendships and relationships, arguments, domestic violence, or seclusion and depression.  

I’m gaining an increasing awareness of how much I touch my face. It seems to be all of the time, rubbing my eyes, wiping my nose, scratching an itch, touching my hair.  Why can’t I stop this continual touching? Even when I know it could make me ill, why can’t I do it, but it’s always been like this, all those coughs, colds, snivels and flu, how many were caught by our touching?  Most of them probably; so is this the moment the world becomes healthier? Will we cease to touch our faces and so prevent viruses from spreading; a knock on positive impact?

Social Distancing

I learned the answer today about why it’s important to know how long the virus remains alive in the open air, and it is because there is still a risk that one can catch Covid 19 outside through simply breathing in if people do not follow the social distancing guidelines. It was explained to me by Nina; “think of people who smoke, you can still smell the smoke particles, outside, even when you are metres away, imagine the smoke particles are the Coronavirus.” Now I understand; what I don’t understand, and nor does anyone else is why children don’t seem to get the virus badly.  It is the case that the older you get then the more vulnerable you are, but aren’t children, especially young children vulnerable too.  So why do they seem to shrug off the virus, possibly even showing no symptoms at all?

Just walked along the beach which was very empty, the few people we passed took a wider than usual berth of us, strangely at one point the smell of dope wafted past us.  This made me consider who was nearby and nobody was within 30 metres of us, I considered that if this had been airborne Covid 19 I would have inhaled some particles.  Would that mean I could have caught the virus? Or would it have been so dispersed that it would have been ineffective? More questions; I suspect the 2 metres social distancing is to minimise the chances of contagion, but doesn’t mean you can’t get a dose of the virus at much greater distances.  More supposition, less real answers…  Another difference about being out is that more people have been smiling at me. Perhaps it’s because Nina and I look like a benign old couple, or perhaps people are just aware that we are in this together, and rather than rushing hither and thither, for once they notice those around them.  Maybe they think that we are the age group who are more vulnerable, so better be nice to them.

Weird Holiday

That’s what it feels like, it’s Monday and once again it feels like a Sunday from the 60s.  The Italians described it as a weird holiday feeling, that was until people started dying.  That still has to come for us.  I’ve been doing more home stuff, this writing is one thing, then there’s cleaning and tidying, by the end of the virus, the house will be spotless.  Perhaps I’ll start writing some songs soon.