reflections on health, ageing and stuff…

I’ve been mulling over all sorts of health-related matters over recent days… and, hey, I’m well aware that there are LOTS of other urgent world issues that also need our thoughts at the present time.
As you might imagine (if you know me), these reflections are incredibly muddled, inconclusive and incomprehensible… but I felt the need to scribble them down (to prove to myself how little I know about such matters!)(I’m not asking for people to point out that I’m wrong!).
Here’s the context (and these are just three examples close to my heart):
1. Many of us are aware of how badly children’s mental health has been affected by Covid lockdowns and its repercussions. Some of our grandchildren have certainly struggled in this regard. After retirement from my architectural practice, I worked at a secondary school for six years (until 2011) and was frequently involved in making CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services) referrals. At that time, waiting lists were in the order of 6-7 weeks. Today, 12 years on, I understand those waiting times are now in the order of 2 YEARS.    
2. Moira was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease (PD) in 2022 (first suspected in 2021). She had an appointment with her Registrar and Consultant in May 2022 and they promised to see her again in 3-4 months’ time. More than 18 months later, this still hasn’t happened (despite pressure from the PD Nurse on her behalf)… so, apart from the PD Nurses’ occasional notes, they have absolutely no idea how Moira is coping. Fortunately, Moira’s medication has proved to be helpful in coping with key aspects of her condition, but nevertheless… Moira and I are regular followers of the brilliant weekly “Movers+Shakers” podcast about PD and it seems that again and again people report that they’ve only managed to see their consultants once a year at the most. It really shouldn’t be like this but, no doubt, resources (staff and funding) are stretched to their limits.
3. I’m currently struggling to walk. I need another hip replacement (my right hip was ‘done’ some 9 years ago – and very successful it has proved). I’ve been ‘referred’, but am currently in limbo land as I await contact from Musculoskeletal (MSK) team (waiting times are now ‘longer than anticipated’). Nine years ago, it took something like 7 weeks from referral to operation. These days, I’m told it’s more like two years (but I’ve actually no idea as to my current position in the queue). In the meantime, I walk with a stick and my ability to walk any distance beyond half a mile is very limited. My condition is both depressing and debilitating. Yes, apparently, I could ‘go private’ for something like £15,000 and be treated within 4 weeks… but this is against my principles (in these days of the NHS, why should we discriminate between those who can afford and those who can’t?). Yes, no doubt there will be many who will disagree with me.

Of course, thanks to amazing scientific advancements, life expectancy in the UK has risen by almost 10 years in the past 50 years (currently 81 years compared with 72 in 1975, apparently). The population is getting older and we have the ability to treat them (in some form or other)… if we WANT to.
But health and welfare is an expensive business and, perhaps unsurprisingly, for the past dozen years or so, the UK’s Conservative government has seemed prepared to underfund the NHS and exert pressure on people to take up private healthcare (thereby jumping the queues etc). So, whilst the NHS has the ability to undertake a wide range of measures, lack of funding has meant that what funds have been allocated are more thinly spread… resulting in staffing levels being reduced (and overworked and stressed workers), waiting times increasing alarmingly and, almost inevitably, staff leaving the NHS (not to mention the EU doctors and nurses who have departed since Brexit).
It’s a nightmare scenario for politicians and administrators alike. What SHOULD the priorities be? Regular evaluations and monitoring of a PD patient, for example, are vital for appropriate prognosis and treatment. Such evaluations aren’t happening at present… A two year waiting list for children with mental health issues is two YEARS of their childhood, for goodness sake… Of course, for example, people awaiting cancer treatment should come before me and my hip replacement, but…
For me (and I appreciate that - in this world of climate crisis, wars and cost of living issues - there are LOTS of areas requiring extra funding!), raising taxes to pay for effective NHS and Social Welfare services seems like the ONLY appropriate measure… and yet we have currently have a government that has a philosophy of actually REDUCING taxes.
What hope is there?

two-tier health...

This summer, the NHS will be celebrating its 75^th birthday.
I was one of the first individuals who benefitted from the service and it’s something I’ve treasured throughout my life.
Increasingly, there’s talk that the Tories are wanting to introduce a privatised version of the NHS (and they’ve been pushing such policies over the past 10 years or more)… making people pay for doctors’ appointments; encouraging people to ‘go private’ in order to jump the lengthy waiting times for operations; making things so bad that they maintain that introducing a privatised system is the only solution to health service needs.
Frankly, I’ve long argued that higher taxation is the only appropriate (and essential) way to ensure that our public services are maintained and developed. By contrast, the Tories constantly talk about cutting taxes.
 
I am hugely fearful that we’re becoming a two-tier society… the haves and the have-nots. The rich who can afford to pay and the poor who can’t. Those families who don’t have sufficient resources to maintain a decent standard of living and who, in these days of cost-of-living and energy crises, are being forced into making desperately difficult decisions (eg. heat or eat). By the same token, if people are forced into making decisions about their (or their family’s) health based on whether or not they can afford to do so, I genuinely fear for the society we would have become.
It doesn’t take much to imagine a situation where a family member is in need of health treatment, but is forced to opt out for reasons of cost… parents who understandably focus on their children (or perhaps elderly relatives) because they feel unable to justify being treated themselves. People with special needs or disabilities struggling because the appropriate services have been ‘run down’ due to lack of finance/political decisions. What are they expected to do if they can’t afford to pay for a replacement?
 
I genuinely fear for what lies ahead if the current political mindset doesn’t change. Yes, of course, our NHS is far from perfect but, frankly, from what I’ve heard of several people’s experiences, neither is the privatised version.
I think that the time has come when we have to take a stand for certain important principles… but time is running out. 

leg club… (really?)

This morning, I attended my first session of ‘Leg Club’ (yes, I know it sounds vaguely like ‘Fight Club’, but I can assure you it’s VERY different!).
It’s an initiative run by seven GP surgeries in Bristol which focusses solely on ‘leg care’. After struggling with varicose veins and leg ulcer issues over the past several years, I KNOW that the level of expertise among GPs and Practice Nurses is somewhat ‘theoretical’ at best (I certainly haven’t found it effective).
This is a weekly clinic for people who’ve been referred to the clinic by their doctors. Patients commit themselves to attend each week; everyone sits in the same large room and is seen in turn by a team of five(?) nurses, a co-ordinator plus three volunteers. I think there were probably 20-25 patients seen during the morning session.
My initial reaction, when I was first told that I’d been registered, was “What a ridiculous name!” but, by the end of the morning, I ‘got’ why it was called a Club rather than a clinic. Volunteers hand out teas and coffees to those waiting to be seen and patients (some of whom have clearly got to know each other over their weeks/months of attendance) chat casually and compare notes.
I think the clinic is the brainchild of the Lead Nurse - who clearly recognised the frustrations and the inadequacies of the ‘old’ system (and who clearly had gained knowledge and experience through her own years of practice). She checks every patient and discusses individual treatments with one of the nursing team. I found it hugely reassuring to feel that I was in the hands of people who really knew their roles and knew what treatment was appropriate.
Believe me, after struggling over the past 4-5 years, this felt like a massive step forward.
It all felt so encouraging. I was greeted by the team co-ordinator (with a smile, I hasten to add!) who explained how the clinic was run and what to expect (and she handed me some really useful additional explanatory notes). I was required to attend EVERY week until my ulcers had cleared up… “and, rest assured, we WILL get you sorted out!” I was told.
Today, I was given an ultrasound leg scan (also referred to as an arterial Doppler) to establish/clarify how my treatment should be processed and then a senior nurse examined my foot ulcers and then applied lotions/creams and compression therapy (in the form of liner and over ‘stockings’) - plus I was given a special plastic sock to enable me to shower etc. I was also given firm instructions to keep the stockings on 24/7, then to attend next week’s session so they can check on progress and renew the dressings. Firm, no nonsense instructions (and encouragement).
My attendance at the clinic was a hugely positive and humbling experience.
Yes, it made me realise how comparatively fortunate I was compared with a lot of the patients but, primarily, I was in awe of the nurses as they knelt on the floor to bathe wounds and administer dressings to the individual patients - and they did it all with humanity, gentleness and encouragement. Dedication. Serving others. As I say, very humbling.
I might moan about the ‘challenges’ of booking a doctor’s appointment but, for the most part:
THANK GOODNESS FOR THE NHS.
Photo: Oh, and the Lead Nurse makes delicious cakes (how do these wonderful people make time for cake-making?) and I was duly given two cakes to take home… I ‘tried’ to decline, but failed pitifully (they were very lovely)!

nhs and gp practices ‘after’ covid…

I LOVE the NHS.
I’m still in awe of people working in the NHS during Covid; how they managed the Covid vaccinations; how they managed to keep going despite the risks, underfunding, lack of resources and operation backlogs.
But (and you knew there would be a ‘but’!), as we’ve emerged from the pandemic (or have I spoken too soon?), it seems that many of us share a common frustration of having to deal with our respective GP practices. Clearly, practices had to come up with different ways of working during the pandemic… face-to-face appointments were extremely rare; telephone consultations were the only things on offer. It was all very understandable… but very frustrating nevertheless. But, it seems to me (and, hey, maybe I’m wrong?) that GP practices have been very slow to try to revert back to ‘normality’.
It seems that the ONLY way to get an appointment these days is via a phonecall to the GP surgery (gone are the days when you were able to book an appointment online)… and that, as you will well know if you’ve ever tried, is a simply appalling experience.
This is just ONE example (believe me, I could give you many more):
I received a text message from our GP practice offering me my annual Flu jab. If I didn’t want the jab, I was asked to text a particular number with the word ‘DECLINE’ (fair enough), but if I DID want one then I needed to ring and make an appointment via the usual (and only) practice telephone number. So, yesterday, I rang the number (it was mid-afternoon, I decided to avoid the ‘busy times’)… and duly received the usual stream of messages about ringing 999 if I had any of the following symptoms etc… there was also that annoying standard message saying “we’re currently experiencing an exceptional high call volumes”. This is frankly ridiculous because this is ALWAYS the message you’re given EVERY time you call the surgery… SO IT’S NOT ‘EXCEPTIONAL’, FOR GOODNESS SAKE!
Yesterday’s somewhat typical ‘call experience’ went as follows: I was informed that I was 7^th in the queue (not bad, I’ve been 15^th before now!)… and I waited… and waited (all the time being reminded that they were experiencing ‘exceptional’ call volumes, of course!). Eventually, after 30 minutes, I’d got to the head of queue and now had the ring tone… and I waited… and waited (and continued to get reminders about exceptional call volumes and to phone 999 if I had particular symptoms). After a further 15 minutes, I gave up.
This is 'just' for a flu jab, for goodness sake. There MUST be a better way?
During the course of my ‘prolonged’ wait, I was able to look up the practice’s website and find an online form I could complete for options of ‘A Suggestion/Praise/Regarding a problem/Other’ – which I duly did (because I had nothing else I could do!). In my response, I asked if the Practice Manager or any other senior Doctors had EVER tried to ring the practice in order to get some idea of how awful the experience was? I look forward to receiving a reply (but I’m not waiting with bated breath!).
I still haven’t been able to book my flu jab (and, of course, I can’t even book an appointment by calling into the surgery in person).
PS: I tried again this morning, but gave up when told I was number 14 in the queue.

“you are number 395 in the queue…”

There’s much frustration with the UK government at the present time (understatement).
Two key matters (but, hey, there are MANY more besides… cost of living, energy prices, world peace etc etc) involve a) the so-called ‘Partygate’ issues (and the delays to the publication of Sue Grey’s Report, due to the Met Police’s initial reluctance to undertake their own investigations) and b) the formal Inquiry into the Covid-19 Pandemic.
The government’s handling of the Covid-19 pandemic has been heavily and widely criticised by health officials, politicians, journalists and the general public. Last May, the Prime Minister announced that there would be a formal Inquiry into Covid-19 pandemic… BUT, frustratingly, that this wouldn’t start unit “Spring 2022”.
Meanwhile, back in October 2021, Parliament’s Health and Social Care Committee and the Science and Technology Committee (comprising MPs from all parties) issued a 150-page document, ‘Coronavirus: Lessons learned to date’ (predominantly focussing on the response to the pandemic in England). They described it as “the worst public health failure ever” – with the government initially trying to manage the situation by ‘herd immunity’; delaying introduction of the first lockdown, costing thousands of lives; failing to focus on those who had died and blaming problems with laptops etc (which the committee described as “laughable”); etc etc.
In December 2021, an inquiry set up by the campaign group ‘Keep our NHS Public’ concluded that the UK government’s handling of the coronavirus pandemic was “grossly negligent” and amounted to misconduct in public office. Key findings included that the depleted state of the NHS and other public services before the pandemic was a determining factor in poor outcomes. Additionally, the government was poorly prepared and responded too slowly, adopting an incorrect strategy leading to a loss of life and growing mistrust in its advice. Furthermore, a consistent failure of government policies to reduce inequalities put the most vulnerable at high risk of illness and death from COVID-19.
 
The formal Inquiry announced by Mr Johnson last May will be chaired by Baroness Heather Hallett. No start date has yet been announced – apart from “Spring 2022”. Additional panel members were to be appointed in the new year to “make sure the Inquiry has access to the full range of expertise needed to complete its important work” (as yet no names have been announced). The Prime Minister would be consulting Baroness Hallett and ministers from the devolved administrations on the terms of reference for the Inquiry and these would be published in draft in the new year (as yet no terms of reference have been published).
There is no timeframe/deadline for the Inquiry. You might recall the Chilcott Inquiry into the Iraq War… with Hearings undertaken Nov 2009-Feb 2011 and the Report published in July 2016!
Frustratingly, one can image that Mr Johnson and fellow members of his government will be long since gone by the time any Inquiry Report is published (and, by then, they’ll no doubt have 'retired' from Westminster and be ‘earning’ fat salaries serving on the Boards of influential companies)… and the then government will no doubt issue pathetic statements about “lessons having been learnt” and everything will be swept under the carpet. 

one year on...

This photograph was taken exactly one year ago today.
Iris and Rosa used to come round for tea/supper on Mondays and Tuesdays and so 17 March 2020 represented quite a watershed moment. It was our last face-to-face mealtime together (mealtimes were always a time of much banter and laughter!) before Moira and I went into self-isolation/lockdown.
For how long would we need to be in lockdown? In due course, the government advised me (as someone who was classified as “clinically extremely vulnerable”) that this situation was likely to last until the end of June. A year on and that photograph STILL represents the last time we gathered together at mealtime.
Rather out of character for me, last March, I started writing a daily diary… and have continued to scribble stuff every day (usually inconsequential rubbish… with the VERY occasional reflective insights!). Looking back to that time, I recall several of the things Moira and I discussed. Like everyone else, we didn’t know what the future held… We were (and continue to be) hugely concerned for the well-being of our family (how would they cope financially/job-wise/health-wise etc?). The sad realisation that it might be several weeks or months (or even years?) before we would be able to hug our family and our friends again… and even the sobering fear that we might have already hugged them for the very last time? Who knew?
Everything was uncertain.
We hadn’t been here before.
One of the most significant things that Moira and I discussed was the awareness that it would be crucial that WE cared for EACH OTHER (in the fullest sense). That might sound a little trite, but it was something we both felt very strongly about. We needed to encourage one another; we needed to ensure that we got plenty of ‘fresh air’ and to walk regularly (we genuinely feared that, at some stage, the government might confine us to our house and garden); we needed to be gentle and kind to each other; we needed laughter and conversation.
Looking back over the last year (and I’m the first to acknowledge that huge uncertainties remain), I think Moira and I have coped really well. We both feel somewhat privileged – we had a roof over our heads; we had space around the house which meant we weren’t ‘in each other’s faces’ all the time; we were both retired – so no job worries; we remained pretty healthy (despite our ageing bodies!); and, crucially, we had each other.
We established various routines… and our chats over our daily morning coffee became really quite important. We’ve always been able to talk to each other freely, but I think we’ve talked to each other much more over the past year (in a good and encouraging way!).
Obviously, we’ve REALLY missed not being able to meet up with the rest of the family (it must be 15 months or so since we were last in Lancashire to see Alice, Dave, Mikes, Dan+Jemima) – although, with Ru, Stu, Iris+Rosa and Hannah, Felix+Ursa all living in Bristol, we have at least been able to see them occasionally in the front of the house or at the harbourside etc. Technology, of course, has been a crucially important substitute (despite its frustrations)… many of us had never even heard of ‘zoom’ before the pandemic!
I definitely feel as if we’ve ‘lost a year’ – our grandchildren are a year older in their young lives and we’ve effectively missed it. This may seem rather ridiculous, but Moira and I both agree that this year has seen us become ‘old’… which feels a little sad. 
Given what has happened over the past twelve months, none of us quite knows what the future holds. Hopefully, the vaccine will provide some stability and ensure proper recovery. Perhaps, over the coming months, we’ll be able to ‘start planning’ again… arranging meet-ups with family and friends; enjoying simple pleasures of meeting up in cafés, restaurants, theatres, cinemas and sports stadiums; and even contemplating holidays!
But I also passionately hope that we do NOT return to ‘how things were before’.
I hope we’ve learnt to respect the environment.
I hope we’ve learnt to respect (and reward) the vast array of workers who undertake all the crucial, ‘small’ jobs that have proved so vital over these past months.
I hope that sufficient resources will be allocated by the government in the connection with mental health and welfare in general.
I hope that we’ve learnt NOT to accept a government who is prepared to ‘reward’ its friends and its financial-backers without accountability.
I hope that we’ve learnt the importance of kindness, respect and fairness.  
Everything is still uncertain.
But perhaps there IS light at the end of tunnel?

Fingers crossed.

new year reflections: december 2020...

I’ve been scribbling New Year reflections on my blog for a number of years now (as always – just a reminder for ME… because I forget stuff so easily!) but, this year has obviously been like no other. Most of us spend our lives – at least to some extent – planning and anticipating events, but this year has made such things impossible. Planning and anticipation has been replaced by worldwide uncertainty (and, for some, tragedy, suffering and fear).
Little did we know, twelve months ago, that 2020 would bring a devastating global pandemic which, for us in the UK, would see more than 70,000 deaths and some 2.3million cases of Covid-19. It was almost unimaginable.
It certainly put everything into perspective… even if it didn’t stop me being massively depressed and frustrated about UK politics, about Brexit, about our response to the Climate Crisis, about greed, about the Haves and the Have-nots, about mental health etc etc. One of the few positives of 2020 (although some might not agree) was that Trump was voted out of office… and the relief felt by SO many people around the world was tangible.
So, for the time being at least, I’m setting aside such matters and concentrating on ‘other stuff’:    
FAMILY AND SIMPLE PLEASURES:
In years gone by, in my annual résumé, I’ve underlined just how important cafés, reading, drawing, photography, walking, cinema and, of course, our grandchildren are VERY important aspects of my life - it’s SO lovely seeing our grandchildren develop in their individual, unique ways (and they ALL make me laugh!!). It goes without saying that our daughters (and their husbands!) are quite, quite brilliant too!
Depressingly, we haven’t been up to Lancashire (or actually seen) Dave, Mikey, Dan+Jemima all year (Alice came down for a very brief ‘working’ visit back in the summer). Fortunately, we have been able to ‘meet up’ with Ruth, Stu, Iris+Rosa and Hannah, Fee+Ursa from time to time (albeit socially-distanced). Depressingly, like so many others around the country, we haven’t been able to hug our family and friends since March (not to be able to hug one’s grandchildren has been especially tough).
Sadly, this year, visits to the café, the cinema and the like also haven’t happened… and I miss such things terribly.
However, I still draw, take photographs and walk virtually every day… and ‘lockdown’ (and being designated as a ‘medically vulnerable’ person!) has resulted in me developing some new routines – daily dawn walks around the harbourside, for example – which I have absolutely loved. Noticing small changes through the seasons… adjusting to the rhythm of a new week/month/season. I ‘created’ a Blurb book (mainly photographs, plus a few sketches and the odd note) of the first six months of ‘lockdown’ (March-September 2020) and have now decided to put together another one from September 2020-March 2021).
I did some pretty basic ‘investigation’ into Moira’s mother’s family history (interesting, but it didn’t reveal she was related to Robert the Bruce or somesuch!).
Moira and I also took the opportunity (via DNAHeritage) to check on our own family ‘roots’. Investigations revealed the following results:
Moira (far more interesting than me): 63.5% Irish, Scottish, Welsh; 18.9% Iberian; 8.5% Scandinavian; 4.7% English; 4.4% Finnish…
Me: English 86.4%; Scandinavian 10.5%; North+Western European 2.1%; Middle Eastern 1.0% (clearly, looking at these results, it’s JUST possible that a) I’m related to Father Christmas or b) Jesus might have been a distant relative…or maybe even both?)!
FRIENDS:
Well, sadly, we’ve met up with very few friends outside Bristol this year (and, indeed, very few even in Bristol)… but we’re very thankful for the technology that has enabled us to continued to stay ‘in touch’ with friends via zoom and social media. I’m pretty hopeless at staying in touch with people by phone (I REALLY don’t like phonecalls!) but, in acknowledgement of the strange situation we found ourselves in, I decided to arrange zoom ‘meet ups’ with old friends (usually one per week) as the next best thing to meeting up over a pint or glass of wine in a bar or pub… and I’ve been doing that since the start of October and it’s been really rather lovely to catch up.
WONDERFUL BOOKS:
You would have thought that a ‘lockdown’ year such as 2020 would have resulted in me reading far more books than usual. Strangely, this didn’t happen. Yes, I’ve continued to read LOTS of books, but rather fewer than last year (74 compared with 94 last year). Some of this has perhaps been due to my changed routines in ‘lockdown’ (eg. I’ve been walking at dawn rather than reading in bed!).
The Storysmith Book Group (run by our lovely local bookshop) has continued to be brilliant - interesting books, lovely people and good fun too (albeit that we’ve had ‘meet’ via zoom)(who knew that technology would become so vitally important in the pandemic!)… and I’ve also been part of the ‘Blokes Books’ bookgroup linked to my local church and involving some great mates (we don’t choose religious books for our zoom get-togethers!). In lockdown, I found myself frequently resorting to books I’ve previously read – probably in the knowledge that they would represent safe, comforting reading options!  As always, I’ve tried to limit the number of highlighted books to ten… and, as always, I’ve failed miserably! Here are 14 of my favourites (in no particular order): 
The Outrun (Amy Liptrot); Black+British (David Olusoga); The Wild Silence (Raynor Winn); Lowborn (Kerry Hudson); The Body (Bill Bryson); The Thursday Murder Club (Richard Osman); All The Light We Cannot See (Anthony Doerr); Girl, Woman, Other (Bernardine Evaristo); A Walk In The Woods (Bill Bryson); Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury); Rebecca (Daphne Du Maurier); Lockdown (Peter May); Trieste+The Meaning Of Nowhere (Jan Morris); and Waiting For The Last Bus (Richard Holloway).
GREAT FILMS:
As you might imagine, Covid-19 drastically curtailed the number of times (just 7) I went to the cinema this year (my last cinema visit was 11 March). In the circumstances, it seems pointless to list my favourites (but I thought Jojo Rabbit was excellent).
But, in order to compensate for going to the Watershed regularly (and I DID really miss it!), I ended up re-watching most of our old DVDs (it was lovely to be reminded of some really wonderful films) and also lots of films via BBC iPlayer (getting on for 50 of them?!) – which, in the past, I hadn’t bothered to utilise.
LOVELY LIVE PERFORMANCES:
It’s been SO sad not to have been able to go to the theatre, concerts and see exhibitions this year. We’ve really missed it. Here are the few that we did get to experience (depressingly few):
THEATRE:
Romantics Anonymous (Bristol Old Vic).
But we’ve also enjoyed streamed performances (via Bristol Old Vic)… Wise Children; The Grinning Man; Christmas Carol; and Swallows and Amazons.
CONCERTS:
O’Hooley+Tidow (St George’s).
EXHIBITIONS:
Refuge+Renewal: Migration+British Art (RWA); Rembrandt (Ashmolean, Oxford).
SPORTING MOMENTS:
I enjoyed continuing to be a season ticket holder for the Bristol Bears (rugby) – and they did really well this year – finishing third in the Premiership in the 2019/20 season and winning the European Challenge Cup. Obviously Covid-19 greatly restricted the number of games open to spectators from the end of February onwards. In the light of the pandemic, I haven’t renewed my season ticket for the current season – which only started in November (although they had given season ticket-holders access to ‘live streams’, I wasn’t able to take advantage – my phone doesn’t  ‘do’ internet and my laptop doesn’t do Windows10… yes, I know, I’m an old fogey!!).
I didn’t get to see a single football game (frankly, although I continue to follow my beloved Aston Villa, I’m afraid that my love of football has waned and I’m really no longer that interested).
I had been really looking forward to watching a fair amount County cricket this year – especially with now having Somerset and Gloucestershire both in Division One – but, it wasn’t to be… thanks to the coronavirus. I DID manage to get to see a couple of Bedminster CC games (just a 20 minute walk from home) – which was lovely, but definitely didn’t compensate for the ‘real thing’!
Watching sport on TV (when that’s possible) in stadiums completely devoid of spectators seems futile to me.
ART STUFF:
Despite the coronavirus, it’s been another enjoyable, busy year, including:
1. I’ve still very much enjoyed continuing to post a drawing or photograph every day as part of my “One Day Like This” blog (well over 3,000 consecutive days - more than 1,500 drawings and 1,500 photographs - since I started in September 2012, more than 8 years ago). Circumstances have limited the number of times I’ve able to draw ‘on location’, but ‘being adaptable’ has seemed to be the key requirement this year and it’s been fine.
2. The brilliant Drawing Group I joined in 2017 – organised by the lovely, talented artists Charlotte and Alice Pain – continues to bring me pleasure. We used to meet for two hours most Tuesdays in a variety of locations in and around Bristol but, due to the virus, we’ve been limited to sharing our drawings online (good, but not the same… and I definitely miss seeing everyone.
3. Sadly, for the second year running, there was no ‘live’ Arts Trail this year (we’d previously participated for 15 consecutive years). There was an ‘online’ version but, as I wasn’t trying to sell anything, I didn’t think this was appropriate for me. Fingers crossed for next year.   
4. One Week 100 Faces: I participated in this scheme again and duly produced my 100 faces in a week (mixed bag as far as quality was concerned!).
5. Urban Sketchers, Bristol: I’ve continued to really enjoy this wonderful group (which I joined in March 2018)… it’s a worldwide organisation and, here in Bristol, in ‘normal times’, we’d meet up every month and regularly get more than 20 people coming along. This year has proved difficult(!), but we’ve adapted wonderfully well (again, thanks to technology)… and have been ‘meeting’ together in various locations around the world (I know!)… Spain, Portugal, Greece, Columbia, France, Wales and England (to mention just a few) sketching from via Google Streetview and (at the same time) chatting via zoom! It’s been hugely enjoyable and great for people to have been able to keep in touch in these difficult times. It’s very, very enjoyable: we compare notes (and sketchbooks!) and share ideas. I’ve made some lovely new friends and have been ‘roped in’ to be one of the admin people (alongside Jules and Jane) who help run the group. It’s become a real highlight and joy.
6. Blurb book (‘Love in the Time of Covid-19’): I put together a self-published book of photographs (plus a few sketches) covering the first six months of the pandemic.
SOMETHING YET TO BE CREATED:
1. Another Blurb book: I decided to follow up my ‘Love in the Time of Covid-19’ Blurb book with a second volume (‘The Winter’s Tale’) covering the subsequent six months ie. up to March 2021. It’ll be interesting observing the seasonal changes… and, I suspect, it might contain a little more text/comments?
2. There are lots of things I’ve missed due to the pandemic, but I realise that I have sorely missed sketching people (albeit quite badly!)… I would regularly sketch over my lunch at the Watershed before going to watch an afternoon film. I very much hope that I’ll be able to do this again in 2021.
3. I think I’d like to read more about some 19^th and early 20^th century British artists/illustrators (eg. Arthur Ransome; Dod Procter; Aubrey Beardsley; Gerald Leslie Brockhurst; Meredith Frampton; James Cowie and Winifred Knights perhaps?).
4. I want to become a little more ‘experimental’ in my sketching/watercolouring… we’ll see!
5. I’ve loved watching Sky Art’s ‘Portrait Artist of the Year’ and have occasionally followed its ‘Portrait Artist of the Week’ follow-up programme – which provides opportunities to sketch its guest sitter. Maybe I’ll try this more frequently?
HOLIDAYS/LEISURE: 
No holidays at all this year – although we did spend a week on the other side of Bristol (I know!), house- and cat-sitting at Hannah+Fee’s - which was actually very lovely… and a chance to re-visit parts of Bristol we don’t very often get to.
SPIRITUAL LIFE:
We continue to be part of the lovely Community of Saint Stephens, in the heart of the city, and it really does feel like our ‘spiritual home’. A stimulating, reflective community and I love the intimacy and informality of its services and that we can actively contribute to discussions. There are some very special people there and we’re incredibly fortunate to be led by Lee Barnes. This year we’ve been alternating services with our sister church community at Holy Trinity Hotwells and I have to admit to struggling somewhat (the style of service is a little different - less intimate; a little more conventional)… but that’s probably just me. Obviously during the course of 2020, we’ve had to ‘stream’ our services (thank goodness for technology!) – successfully, albeit with a different ‘end product’ (I have to admit that I’ve found streamed church a bit of a ‘turn-off’ personally). My own faith-life journey has felt pretty bleak at times this year (I have lots of ‘wilderness days’!). Seven of us used to ‘meet up’ most Wednesday mornings at 8am at the Society Café on the harbourside (but now via zoom) for “Bloke’s Prayer”… and it’s something which has proved to be hugely rewarding. Regular Tuesday night ‘Resonate’ meetings have also proved interesting. Up until September, I’ve also been ‘chairing’ Saint Stephen’s Re-Ordering Group over the past couple of years – stimulating AND frustrating!

HEALTH:
My health has been pretty good this year… apart from the normal ageing process (although my annual lungs/heart check didn’t actually happen because of the pandemic – I’m due to have another appointment in say March 2021). I’ve been troubled with on-going heel and ankle ulcer issues more or less throughout the year – which are a little debilitating, but manageable. My teeth continue to fall out; my back feels ‘delicate’ most mornings when I first wake (but settles down); my hearing is deteriorating (I have hearing aids, but don’t use them!); I take tablets for my atrial fibrillation; I take eye drops to deter my glaucoma; and I’m pretty sure that my left hip will need replacing over the next year or so!! Strangely (and perhaps significantly?), I feel I’ve become something of an old man this year… but, hey, I feel pretty fit, I’m very active and I continue to walk on a daily basis.
OTHER STUFF:
1. For me, this has been a year of ‘giving up things’… That sounds very negative, I know, but actually it’s felt something of a relief. In September, I stepped down from serving on the PCC of Saint Stephen’s church… and, although I continue to be part of the group of people looking into the practicalities of re-ordering the Grade I Listed Building, I’m no longer chairing it. 

2. I also stepped down from serving as a volunteer with the wonderful B.Friend organisation in May (I’d served my agreed 12 months plus stint… but it also coincided with my own need for self-isolation etc due to Covid-19). Rewarding and humbling work nevertheless.

3. I also ceased volunteering at the YMCA/The Wing (for which I’d done most Thursday evenings for the past couple of years) – helping to prepare food (but mostly washing up!) for some of young people staying there… again, my stepping down coincided with my own limited movements due to Covid-19.

4. We continue to be a no-car household… and use a local car club very occasionally, as we see the ‘need’ (but only three times this year, I think!).

I love reflecting back on the things that have happened over the previous twelve months and, each year, it’s a reminder that there WILL be some very special things that they will happen in the coming year (setting aside pandemics!) – even though, at this moment, I don’t know what the coming year will bring. Clearly, I’m also aware that there will inevitably be some sad stuff too… and perhaps challenges we feel ill-equipped to face. In such times, families and friendships will, once again, see us through.   
For us as a family, it’s been another good year (by and large)… and we continue to count our blessings.
I wish you (and all yours) a very happy, healthy and peaceful 2021… and perhaps a return to some kind of normality would be a huge bonus!
Photo: At Christmas, we usually put together a compilation of photographs of our six grandchildren, taken over the course of the year. This year has obviously been rather different. We haven’t seen Mikey, Dan and Jemima at all during 2020 (other than via zoom)… and our times with Ursa, Rosa and Iris have also been hugely limited. We’ve missed watching them grow, blossom and laugh! xx

twenty-twenty/2020 vision?

A time for some reflection… (sorry):
Since the start of the first lockdown, I’ve been keeping a daily diary (just for me). I’ve also written a number of occasional ‘Reflections’ (again, just for me). Frankly, the diary is pretty boring (maybe it’ll improve with age?!), but some of the reflections make interesting reading (for me, at least)… and remind me of my feelings during the course of the past nine months or so.
It would take pages and pages to run through all of these thoughts and emotions (and, even so, I’ve included far more than I originally intended!), but here are just a few extracted snippets (the number of reflections has decreased over recent weeks – maybe just a sense that there was nothing new to say?):
1.  Huge uncertainty. Self-isolation. The need for us to establish routines. Importance of daily walks (18 March).
2.  We’ll cope; we’re very fortunate compared with so many others. Lots of lists. Thankful for doctors, nurses, NHS staff, food stores (including shelf-stackers!), people helping to maintain public utilities etc (19 March).

3.  Some people not taking warnings seriously. People ignoring what’s happening in Europe at this time. “Hopefully, when we emerge from this awful business, people will have changed… they will have a new respect for the simple joys of life, for others, for nature, for kindness, for civility, for generosity of spirit, a more equal society and the like… and that greed, ruthlessness, dishonesty, profit et al… will be things of the past” (22 March).

4.  For Moira and for me, self-isolation is inconvenient but manageable. No, we can’t go to shops, can’t meet up with family and friends, but we’re very fortunate to have a house of our own and to be retired and not needing to work. Lots of instances of great kindness being shown by lots of individuals and, certainly, the vast majority of people are being wonderfully generous and considerate. Of course, one also comes across instances of people behaving abominably and ignoring the isolation rules and meeting up in large groups (26 March).

5.  I find myself trying to recall the last time I hugged each family member… and realising that perhaps THAT would be the last time I was able to do so… and desperately wishing for a chance to hug them all ONE more time (I know)! In such a scenario, I have this rather beautiful vision of being able to use a magic wand to conjure up just a day in each of their individual company (completely unknown to them that this would the last time we’d meet up)… to do silly things; to laugh and joke; to recall particular memories; to walk along a beach together; to enjoy a meal together… and to tell them how much I love them (1 April). 

6.  Is there a heaven? Well, I actually do feel there is… but my heaven is much more the ‘heaven here on earth’ concept. Something about it being here, right now, and that it’s about our collective need to actually look for heaven… it’s here all the time and, perhaps for most of us, we just don’t ‘see it’ – we don’t appreciate all the beauty, creativity and humanity that surrounds us. Fundamentally, I think heaven is about kindness and helping others (5 April).

7.  I’ve noticed that some people have begun to make ‘wish lists’ of things they want to do as soon as the virus crisis comes to an end. It’s been illuminating. I haven’t noticed any of the ‘usual’ bucket list items appearing on people’s agendas (swimming with dolphins and suchlike)… they’re much more focussed on stuff that, in the past, we’ve perhaps taken for granted, such as: hugging family members; meeting up with friends (in a bar/café/restaurant); going to the cinema, theatre etc; visiting a special place you’ve always promised that you’d go to; walking along a beach; walking through a wood or a forest… you get the idea (10 April).

8.  I’ve developed a routine of ‘dawn walking’. Not every day, but perhaps three or four times a week. The only downside is that Moira ‘doesn’t do dawn’(!) and so these early morning walks just involve me… we try to walk together on other days (28 April).

9.  From this weekend, the government has changed the ‘lockdown’ rules. Some schools will re-open on Monday… The government has relaxed these rules despite the fact that some of its own scientific advisors have been warning about the risks of easing the rules too soon. Inevitably, there will be some, like me(!), who fear that many people will now stop taking notice of any government advice (don't get me started about Mr Cummings!). There's already a sense that many of the restrictions are being largely ignored by large numbers of the public (particularly 16-30 year-olds... and especially males it seems). Easing restrictions too soon and risking a second wave of infections would have devastating consequences (30 May). 

10.  Understandably, people are keen to return back to ‘normal’ life... The majority of the population are continuing to take a cautious approach to returning to ‘normality’ and many are indicating that they won’t be rushing back to frequenting pubs, restaurants, cinemas or taking public transport any time soon. The underlying fear, of course, is that people become blasé, fail to take the necessary precautions and a ‘second wave’ of the virus to return… and seeing photographs of crowds of drinkers in London’s Soho last night only underlines such fears… Of course, the wonders of modern technology have been hugely important during ‘lockdown’… one wonders how on earth we’d have all coped without it. But, clearly, the thing that we’ve both missing most is the simple pleasure of hugging our lovely family! (5 July).

11.  Staying alert? Staying confused? Being responsible? The government clearly hasn’t helped itself on any number of occasions. There have been times when ministers have contradicted each other in their own interpretations of policy. As one of my friends observed: “Let’s all be honest, any sense of doctrinal adherence to rules as described on gov.uk is advisory at best since Cummings-gate. It shouldn’t be, but it is”. I have a sense that some people feel that the ‘worst is over’; that we’re beginning to ‘come out on the other side’ (daily death rates have consistently been reducing over recent weeks, afterall); and that we can start relaxing the rules a little (on the other hand, the number of reported cases has escalated since the start of August)…There’s a sense of “we’re responsible people, we won’t take any real chances… but we do want our old lives back now”. The trouble is (but, hey, what do I know?!) that bending the rules is the start of a slippery slope… and, as we all know by now, the virus doesn’t play by ‘normal’ rules, so being ‘careful’ or ‘responsible’ isn’t really enough (24 August).

12.  Somewhat ridiculously, I’ve been keeping track of the daily coronavirus deaths. It obviously makes pretty depressing reading, but it’s also a reminder that at the start of April there were several days when the daily death toll exceeded 900. By the beginning of August, thankfully, these numbers had reduced hugely – often just to single figures. But, over the past few weeks, the number of daily coronavirus cases started to rise rapidly… and so, inevitably, have the number of deaths. Depressingly, fears of a second-wave, as we approach the winter months, has been exacerbated by shortcomings in the government’s testing system. Clearly, for the government (whose focus, perhaps, seems to have been more on protecting the economy than people?), with the prospect of a potential second-wave comes the increasing possibility of a national ‘lockdown’ (21 September).

13.  Mr Johnson made another of his television appearances to confirm that new Covid-19 measures were being introduced (in England) as a result of the recent rapid growth in the number of cases. Interesting to hear reaction of a leading scientist, Prof John Edmunds (head of the faculty of epidemiology and population health at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine) – who didn’t think the measures went anywhere near far enough and feared that, for the second time, the government would end up clamping down too late: “I suspect we will see very stringent measures coming in place throughout the UK at some point, but it will be too late again. We will have let the epidemic double and double and double again until we do take those measures. And then we’ll have the worst of both worlds, because then to slow the epidemic and bring it back down again, all the way down to somewhere close to where it is now or where it was in the summer will mean putting the brakes on the epidemic for a very long time, very hard - which is what we had to do in March because we didn’t react quick enough in March, and so I think that we haven’t learned from our mistake back then and we’re unfortunately about to repeat it” (23 September).

14.  The number of coronavirus cases and deaths have sharply increased over the past month - in fact, the current daily number of cases (some 20,000) is getting on for THREE times higher than the HIGHEST daily figures from March-September (just let that sink in). I really don’t envy ANY government in these challenging times but, thinking back to those early days back in March, when a virtual ‘lockdown’ was imposed on the entire country, people generally backed the restrictions and there was a strong sense of ‘unity in a time of crisis’. Since then, of course, the government has come under an enormous amount of criticism on a long list of matters: its slowness to react; the ill-judged/illegal actions of Dominique Cummings on his trip (or trips?) to Durham; the lack of appropriate equipment; the lack of an adequate regime for testing, tracing and isolating; issuing contracts to ‘friendly’ companies without competition; making up the rules on local lockdowns without consulting regional leaders and health authorities; universities and colleges (students/halls of residences/number of positive cases); all the mixed messages; and now ignoring the advice of its scientific advisors etc etc. You might recall that the prime minister unveiled a plan in July to return England to “normality” by Christmas… and he also indicated that it might “be possible to move away from the social distancing measures” by November. Well, it doesn’t seem to have quite worked out like that… and, of course, Mr Johnson will claim that the reason it hasn’t is all down to US… nothing to do with him! Meanwhile, consensus has disintegrated and there’s distinct sense of “they’re making things up as they go along”… and opinion polls indicate that the public has lost confidence in the government (17 October).

15.  I’m aware that my thoughts and experiences relating to Covid are likely to change over the coming months (in my head, I’m just trying to focus on ‘getting through to March’ – on the basis that this represents a year of living in this ‘lockdown world’)… This from the Guardian (27 October) seemed to sum up the thoughts of many: “Managing a second wave of Covid-19 in winter was always going to be a tougher proposition than imposing a blanket lockdown in March. There is mounting evidence of fatigue, confusion and resentment over localised restrictions. Frustration has been compounded by the sense that the government pays only lip service to the notion that ‘we are all in this together’” (27 October).

16.  Further reflections on Covid-19… One thing I’ve become increasingly aware of over recent days/weeks is a strange sense that we’re having to ‘tread water’ until the pandemic is either over or the vaccine becomes available… I’m also very conscious of missing out on a year of our grandchildren’s lives (at a time when they’re blossoming and developing so quickly) and, at the same time, us getting older (and time running out!?) feels like a double-whammy. With the number of UK cases (and deaths) on a sharp increase, it feels as if a second national lockdown might become inevitable…but when? An immediate 2-3 week ‘firebreak’?  A full national lockdown immediately after Christmas/New Year? (28 October).

17.  So, the first day of ‘Lockdown2’… People are obviously far more prepared than last time… shops are far more organised; people are aware of the social distancing rules; face-masks are everyone’s ‘fashion accessory’. But, for some individuals, there’s also a strong sense of “we’ve had enough of this… we don’t care anymore… and, anyway, the ‘rules’ keep being changed and we can’t keep up”. We always KNEW that, at some stage, the government would end up blaming the population at large for its inability to deal with the pandemic. So it came as absolutely no surprise when today Justice Minister Mr Buckland announced that it was all OUR fault! He remarkably managed to forget all those mixed messages the government had been pumping out for the past several months (‘stay home’/’go back to work’/’back to business’/’act fearlessly’/’world-beating test+trace’/’following the science’/‘turning a blind eye to the science’… and, of course, it was perfectly ok for certain ‘key’ individuals (like Mr Cummings) to ignore the rules. What a huge surprise… the second wave was nothing to do with the government. Professor Devi Sidhar (who, in my opinion, has talked an awful lot of sense over the past six months or so) seemed to sum up the thoughts of several health experts when she declared: “The UK government’s decision to delay a national lockdown in the hope that this would be easier on the economy defies reality: delaying action has led only to a longer, harsher lockdown. It can feel as though, confronted with this paradox and exhausted by the months of work that lie ahead, the governments is close to giving up without a clear plan or strategy for how to survive in a Covid-19 world” (5 November).  

And, of course, the above completely ignores ANY comment about the government’s rules for the Christmas ‘holiday period’ or the latest Tier arrangements…
Roll on the vaccine!!
Happy Happy Christmas and a Healthy New Year! 

six months in and still counting…

It’s exactly six calendar since Moira and I self-isolated/shielded (I’m one of those people classified as “clinically extremely vulnerable”!). We’ve taken the coronavirus precautions very seriously and decided from the outset that we would avoid shopping, public transport and, to a large extent, people! We decided to try to walk every day (for both our physical fitness and our mental health – but, still, as far as possible, avoiding people). Even after the shielding rules were relaxed at the start of August, we’ve effectively kept to the same disciplines.
The past six months have been a strange and challenging time for all of us… and, of course, thousands have died or have been massively affected by the virus. In such circumstances, Moira and I regard ourselves as being incredibly fortunate. Schools, shops, restaurants, theatres, sport and jobs have all been hugely disrupted. Yes, it’s been frustrating not to be able to hug our children and grandchildren or to meet freely with our friends… and, yes, for us, it’s also meant being restricted to venturing out only within walking distance from our front door. 
But we’ve all also learnt to adapt. Where it’s been possible, people have worked from home; technology (eg. zoom) has been crucial; people have discovered different ways of doing things…
Who would want to be a government in such difficult circumstances?
Whatever one’s political views, I think there’s common agreement that the UK government performance through it all has been abject. It has been guilty of a whole string of fundamental errors and poor decision-making – all with massively serious repercussions. For example: on 24 January, Health Secretary Mr Hancock dismissed the coronavirus threat to the UK public as ‘low’; PM Mr Johnson missed five vital Cobra meetings (it wasn’t until 2 March that he attended his first virus meeting)… and by then it was almost certainly too late. The Times published an article on 18 April lambasting the government (and in particular Mr Johnson) for its/his failures and what it described as the “five lost weeks”… and the “thousands of unnecessary deaths”, in its estimation, this had caused. Mr Johnson’s spokesman played down the looming threat from the east and reassured the nation that we were “well prepared for any new diseases”. 
Contrary to the official line, scientists, academics, doctors, emergency planners and public officials acknowledged that Britain was in a poor state of readiness for a pandemic. Emergency stockpiles of PPE had severely dwindled and gone out of date after becoming a low priority in the years of austerity cuts. The training to prepare key workers for a pandemic had been put on hold for two years while contingency planning was diverted to deal with a possible no-deal Brexit.
At the beginning of April (I can’t be absolutely sure of the date), I recall watching an interview with a scientist from South Korea (the country had been hit by the virus some weeks earlier and had been relatively successful in containing its spread). She had been asked what advice she would give to European countries now faced with having to deal with the virus. Her reply was unequivocal and brief: effective testing and tracing was absolutely CRUCIAL.
Oh the irony!
So, here in the UK, six months on from when the country first went into ‘lockdown’ in mid-March, we are STILL struggling to provide an effective and reliable ‘test and trace’ system (despite the initial ridiculous claims about the UK having a world-beating system!). Even at airports (most airports around the world had introduced temperature tests for arrivals), the UK lacked action and authority… not to mention an effective policy. A study by Southampton University, for instance, showed that 190,000 people flew into the UK from Wuhan and other high-risk Chinese cities between January and March. The researchers estimated that up to 1,900 of these passengers would have been infected with the coronavirus — almost guaranteeing the UK would become a centre of the subsequent pandemic.
Six months on from the initial ‘lockdown’ in March, it seems as though the government has lurched from one crisis to another… mixed message after mixed message; lack of leadership; lies; Dominic Cummings; lack of trust; Care Home testing fiasco; handing out £1billion government contracts (to ‘friends’?) without tender; abolishing Public Health England;
… and, of course, not forgetting Climate Change; Brexit; proroguing parliament; introducing a Bill that would break international law; the Good Friday Agreement; Russian interference in the election; Grenfell Tower inquiry; refugees etc etc.
 
Back in April, I wrote this on my blog:
I desperately hope that we come out of it all determined to make the world a better place.
I desperately hope that we remember the people and the jobs that make our day-to-day lives worth living.
I desperately hope that we truly decide to care for our planet.
I desperately hope that we can move away from the old world of greed and power, of the haves and the have-nots. My fear is that some will have very short memories and revert back (if ever they budged) to lives governed by wealth and influence.
I desperately hope that such individuals and corporations are overwhelmed by the voices of those who know there’s a better way.
Sadly, it’s still not over…
The trouble is that none of us has been through this before. When we first went into ‘lockdown’, the government advised ‘extremely vulnerable’ people like me that we would need to self-isolate for 12 weeks (ie. until mid-June). In the event, this was subsequently extended by a further 7 weeks to the beginning of August. Although the number of weekly deaths in the UK currently seems to have ‘levelled out’ at between 50-100 (large numbers, but nothing compared with the April figures of 4,000-5,000/week), the number of confirmed cases has recently started to increase again – to over 4,000/week. The total ‘official’ number of UK coronavirus deaths is currently shown as approaching 42,000 (although UK statistics agencies claim it’s nearly 58,000).
So we continue to live with huge uncertainties… the worry, with Winter approaching, is that there will be a ‘second wave’ – which, given the more severe weather, would likely result in many more deaths. Sadly, a Winter ‘lockdown’ would almost certainly also have a severe effect on mental health issues.
The UK economy, inevitably, would continue to struggle in such circumstances (the government has already come under criticism of encouraging people back to work – with a resulting boast to the economy – despite the distinct likelihood of a subsequent increase in coronavirus cases).
 
So, to all intents and purposes, we all have to live from week to week… which obviously makes ‘planning’ uncertain and fraught with difficulties. Again, from my April blog post, I wrote:
We’ve learnt so much from this awful coronavirus experience.
Let’s use what we’ve learnt to make the world a better place.
I sincerely hope that this will be the case but, as things stand, I sense that many people are just desperate to ‘get back to normal’ and, indeed, that some have not only abandoned any aspirations that might have had to ‘make the world a better place’, and are prepared to ignore guidelines and rules in pursuit of their own selfish desires.
I very much hope that I’m wrong.
I watched David Attenborough’s “Extinction: The Facts” a couple of days ago on iPlayer and it underlined, for me, that so many of the issues facing the world today – like Climate Change and Pandemics – are interconnected. Our individual lifestyles; what we eat; our carbon footprints etc etc (eg. a UN report identified the key drivers of biodiversity loss, including overfishing, climate change and pollution. But the single biggest driver of biodiversity loss is the destruction of natural habitats).
Disease ecologists believe that if we continue on this pathway, this year’s pandemic will not be a one-off event… and, as Attenborough also pointed out: “This year, we have been shown we have gone one step too far. Scientists have linked our destructive relationship with nature to the emergence of Covid-19”.
PS: Two of the things I’ve done during lockdown are: a) keep a daily diary (which, on re-reading, seems merely boring and repetitive – but, perhaps, it might ‘improve with age’ as a memory-jogger(?) and b) a book of photographs and sketches (see image).

bill bryson: the body

I love Bill Bryson’s writing! I’ve just finished his excellent book ‘The Body: A Guide for Occupants’. It’s absolutely packed with fascinating observations and detail. In the penultimate chapter (‘Medicine Good and Bad’), for example, here are just a FEW extracts about health in the US (note: by quoting this stuff, I’m not ‘having a go’ at the US – I’m merely aware that, eventually it seems to me, the UK follows America’s ‘lead’ in virtually everything!):

• “With regard to life expectancy… it is not a good idea to be an American”.
• “For every 400 middle-aged Americans who die each year, just 220 die in Australia, 230 in Britain, 290 in Germany and 300 in France”.
• “America spends more on health care than any other nation – two and a half times more per person than the average for all the other developed countries”.
• “Yet despite the generous spending, and the undoubted high quality of American hospitals and health care generally, the US comes just 31^st in global rankings, behind Cyprus, Costa Rica and Chile, and just ahead of Cuba and Albania. How to explain such a paradox? Well, to begin with, and most inescapably, Americans lead more unhealthy lifestyles than most other people... As Allan S Detsky observed in the ‘New Yorker’, ‘Even wealthy Americans are not isolated from a lifestyle filled with oversized food portions, physical inactivity, and stress.’ The average Dutch or Swedish citizen consumes about 20% fewer calories than the average American, for instance.”

Although Bryson (who was born in Iowa, but a British resident for most of his adult life) is enthusiastic about the UK’s NHS, he points out: “For Britain, cancer survival rates are grim and ought to be a matter of national concern”.  He’s also critical about the UK spending “too little” on health care: “The ‘British Medical Journal’ reported in early 2019 that cuts to health and social care budgets between 2010 and 2017 led to about 120,000 early deaths in the UK, a pretty shocking finding”.

Fascinating (and sobering) stuff.

coronavirus and us…

So, this is the scenario:

Saturday 14 March: We hear, via Robert Peston’s ITV blog (for example), that the “People over 70 will be instructed by the government to stay in strict isolation at home or in care homes for four months, under a ‘wartime-style’ mobilisation effort by the government likely to be enforced within the next 20 days”. Peston’s post goes on to say: “According to a senior government source, the perception that ministers are reluctant to make difficult and costly decisions to battle the virus is wrong. It is simply that the chief medical officer Chris Whitty and the chief scientific adviser Sir Patrick Vallance are waiting for the optimal time to force restrictions on our way of life that will be very painful. They are deeply worried that some older people will simply die at home from neglect, after they are quarantined, so want to start the quarantine as late as possible - sometime within the next five to 20 days”.

Sunday 15 March: Health Minister Matt Hancock confirms (on SkyNews) that action to isolate the UK's over-70s for an extended period to shield them from coronavirus is planned in the coming weeks and that the government would “be setting it out with more detail when it is the right time to do so”.

I wonder when that’s likely to be?

Well, Moira and I are certainly NOT going to be ones who will “simply die at home from neglect”… but, over the course of the next few days, we’ll be reflecting on the various implications that strict quarantine rules would have on our lives… and those of our families, our friends, etc.

Yes, we can simplify our own lives fairly easily (in relative terms, compared with those who have already been directly, and even more seriously, affected by the pandemic)… but with somewhat depressing outcomes and implications (no classes, no groups, no sport, no cafés/restaurants, no cinema, no theatre, no concerts, no church, no meetings with family/friends etc etc). At this stage, we haven’t any holiday arrangements scheduled over the coming months… and I suspect there won’t now be any.

I assume we’ll be ‘allowed’ to get out into the ‘fresh air’ to walk and maintain our levels of ‘fitness and well-being’ (assuming we don’t get within 3-4 metres of another human!)? I also assume I’ll be allowed to sit in some isolated outdoor location and sketch (on my own!)?

We live quite simple lives. We’ll cope...   

Coronavirus will obviously have a huge impact on a whole range of other day-to-day issues for so many people. I suspect that (perhaps by the Easter holidays?) schools, colleges and universities will shut… (with all sorts of implications for young school children – where grandparents frequently pick up the childcare ‘slack’). Without support, some firms will collapse and others will be forced to make redundancies? What about the lack of statutory sick pay for the self-employed? Mortgage/rent payment implications? Paying monthly bills? Holiday bookings?

The list goes on (and on)…

So, at this stage, it seems to be all about what the government is ABOUT to decide (or not!)… and everyone thinking of their own contingency plans… and, of course, some people selfishly ‘going overboard’ and stockpiling. The government will no doubt receive lots of criticism (and maybe even some plaudits?) regarding its handling of the pandemic… but it’s difficult to be certain about anything in such circumstances. My heart goes out to all those working in the NHS – at the ‘sharp’ end of things and having to cope with ‘unknown issues’ set against a backdrop of several years of under-funding.

On a personal level, I have very mixed emotions about the government wanting us oldies to self-isolate (I really feel for my lovely family). As far as possible, I want to see the help and support concentrated on younger people… and yet I absolutely appreciate that it’s better to try and prevent the ‘old’ becoming infected (ie. due to their much greater vulnerability) in the first place – and thereby, hopefully, reducing funds spent on them once they’ve been admitted to hospital. Ridiculously perhaps, if I did contract the disease, I’d much prefer to be ‘killed off quickly’ (I know!) than to have large amounts of money spent on me, at my stage in life.

In the meantime, as someone who avoids using the telephone as much as possible, I think I’m going to have to learn to Skype PROPERLY (my past attempts have been pretty awful – with me watching an image on my laptop screen and listening to what’s being said on my mobile!!)(really), so I can keep in touch with family and friends effectively from my ‘isolation den’. Perhaps, for example, I can continue (ie. a couple of times/week) to prepare meals* for Iris+Rosa - pass them on to Ruth/Stu for cooking at their home – and then Skyping the girls so we can continue our hilarious chats over the 'dining table' (while I sip my glass of red)!?

As they used to say on ‘Hill Street Blues’: “Let’s Be Careful Out There”!

(now wash your hands…).

PS: * but, of course, I probably wouldn't be allowed to cook for others!

I would walk 1,000 miles…

You probably remember The Proclaimers “I’m Gonna Be/500 miles” song (“But I would walk 500 miles/ And I would walk 500 more/ Just to be the man who walks a thousand miles…”)?
Well, when I had a health scare last April, my consultant asked me what exercise I did. I responded by saying I walked every day. “How far?” he asked. “I’m not sure, but probably something like 3 miles a day” I replied.
Actually, I realised that I didn’t actually know how far I walked on a daily basis, so decided to make a spreadsheet (yes, I know!) to monitor things. I don’t use a fitbit app or a step monitor, I simply plot my basic routes via Google maps – so I think the results provide a fairly conservative figure for the distance I actually do cover on a daily basis. I certainly didn’t change my walking habits, I simply made a note of how far I’d walked.
Well, it’s been interesting just monitoring my daily walking routines and, in fact, it turns out that, on average, I DO walk just over three miles a day.
Indeed, in the 46 weeks since I started my walking spreadsheet, I’ve covered 1,000 miles (that’s, on average, some 22 miles a week).
In other words, since 22 April 2017, I’ve walked the equivalent (according to Google) of John O’Groats to Lands End (874 miles) and then back beyond Exeter!!