I trust that none of you have been in the German Big Brother house, or Jared Leto’s silent meditation retreat, and so you’re likely aware of a slight disruption to normal proceedings called COVID-19.
A couple of months ago, I had a handover (by phone) with one of my colleagues in Wuhan; at the time, her city was the sole epicentre of the new coronavirus. I asked her how things were going. She explained that the situation was strange and pretty scary. As she provided a glimpse of her new normal, I couldn’t imagine anything like that happening in the UK. Not a lockdown, not shortages, not a crisis on that scale.
But here we are.
The past couple of weeks have been surreal; often nightmarish. The illness itself has devastating consequences; adjacent to that is the behaviour brought to the surface by our current crisis. People fighting over loo rolls. Fucking loo rolls. Elderly folks unable to buy their essentials because some selfish pricks have cleared out the eggs and bread and veggies; most of which will probably be thrown away. It’s the situation of our seniors and vulnerable people that’s most heartbreaking. Although collective pressure has forced shops to introduce special opening hours, and the goodness of individuals provides a lifeline to neighbours, friends, and strangers, it’s inevitable that there are Nans and Grandads out there right now without basic supplies. That’s a devastating thought.
I’m always in awe of the great people of the NHS. The doctors, nurses, paramedics, and support staff of our finest institution are miracle workers every day, and in this tiny era of our history they’re nothing short of superheroes. But we’re not doing right by the people who heal us. Front-line staff still don’t have the right protective equipment, and vague promises from the government aren’t changing things quickly enough. And when they finish their shifts, the shelves are bare. Special NHS hours at supermarkets are a great move, but there needs to be something more substantial put in place to provide essential supplies; not only for the physical health of our superheroes, but their mental wellbeing, too.
While we’re on the subject of shopping, big love to all the retail workers dealing with the worst of human behaviour in the past couple of weeks. Long hours, rude bastards, and the possibility of falling ill is an awful lot to deal with. I hope that the inevitable boom in profits - at supermarkets in particular - translates into bonuses, wage increases, and better conditions for our key retail workers. And in the meantime, let’s push for continued kindness, patience, and gratitude shown by good people.
This crisis is, unfortunately, not yet at its peak. It’s hard on the brain. The sudden, dramatic changes to everyday life can be profoundly destabilising. I’ve had a few panicked wobbles – usually in the middle of the night, cheers brain – but as things have developed so rapidly, I don’t think it’s fully hit me yet. I suspect it’s the same for many of you. I guess the best approach is to simply do your best when you can; there’s no need to pile additional pressure on yourself.
I wish you, the reader, good health and a peaceful brain during this challenging time. Please take care of yourself and your loved ones. Oh, and stay home! Get involved in Disney+, it’s outrageously good.
The past couple of weeks have been surreal; often nightmarish. The illness itself has devastating consequences; adjacent to that is the behaviour brought to the surface by our current crisis. People fighting over loo rolls. Fucking loo rolls. Elderly folks unable to buy their essentials because some selfish pricks have cleared out the eggs and bread and veggies; most of which will probably be thrown away. It’s the situation of our seniors and vulnerable people that’s most heartbreaking. Although collective pressure has forced shops to introduce special opening hours, and the goodness of individuals provides a lifeline to neighbours, friends, and strangers, it’s inevitable that there are Nans and Grandads out there right now without basic supplies. That’s a devastating thought.
I’m always in awe of the great people of the NHS. The doctors, nurses, paramedics, and support staff of our finest institution are miracle workers every day, and in this tiny era of our history they’re nothing short of superheroes. But we’re not doing right by the people who heal us. Front-line staff still don’t have the right protective equipment, and vague promises from the government aren’t changing things quickly enough. And when they finish their shifts, the shelves are bare. Special NHS hours at supermarkets are a great move, but there needs to be something more substantial put in place to provide essential supplies; not only for the physical health of our superheroes, but their mental wellbeing, too.
While we’re on the subject of shopping, big love to all the retail workers dealing with the worst of human behaviour in the past couple of weeks. Long hours, rude bastards, and the possibility of falling ill is an awful lot to deal with. I hope that the inevitable boom in profits - at supermarkets in particular - translates into bonuses, wage increases, and better conditions for our key retail workers. And in the meantime, let’s push for continued kindness, patience, and gratitude shown by good people.
This crisis is, unfortunately, not yet at its peak. It’s hard on the brain. The sudden, dramatic changes to everyday life can be profoundly destabilising. I’ve had a few panicked wobbles – usually in the middle of the night, cheers brain – but as things have developed so rapidly, I don’t think it’s fully hit me yet. I suspect it’s the same for many of you. I guess the best approach is to simply do your best when you can; there’s no need to pile additional pressure on yourself.
I wish you, the reader, good health and a peaceful brain during this challenging time. Please take care of yourself and your loved ones. Oh, and stay home! Get involved in Disney+, it’s outrageously good.
See you soon!
No comments:
Post a Comment