Coronavirus diary, Saturday 31 October

Home again

After three weeks in hospital, coming home to Sunrise was a huge relief. Unexpected. 

In hospital I was concerned that I would not be able to able to look after myself and would have to go to a nursing home.I asked Robert to see if it might be the Waverley in Penarth,

Life in hospital was so different. My world had shrunk to a bed, a table and a cupboard for my possessions. Time had no meaning. Day and night merged into endless intermittent checks. blood pressure, temperature, drips and needles

The first two weeks was a blur but life suddenly opened up with new tablets. For the first time for weeks I could move my legs without pain; a few days later I was able to get out of bed and with the help of a physio, take a few steps, dragging my right leg, encased in a heavy box on my broken ankle.

After a few false alarms I was ready to leave for home.

The elation of  the return was tempered by doubt over whether I could still be able to look after myself.

As usual I made a list of ‘tasks’, the first of which was how to get about the flat. I have two more weeks with the boot, so progress is slow.

Life has changed totally, again. Being looked after so well, being able to talk to the carers despite having to stay in my flat for another week or two. And the bliss of a good night’s  sleep with little pain. 

Time is still unimportant and I am learning to be patient. To go slow, pace myself and work out a routine. 

Then there is  the pleasure of reading, writing and listening to music. 

Best of all, there is peace and comfort

It’’s great to be home and to look forward to the days and weeks ahead. 

I have been encouraged and buoyed by the support of all the family and by the welcome home from the marvellous Sunrise team.

Coronavirus diary, Friday 30 October

With pandemic uncertainty swirling around the world no-one can foresee when life will get back to normal. The likelihood is that will never happen; we will have to settle for a drastic change in direction and style and adapt.

We are at the storm centre of one of the biggest upheavals in generations but this is not unique. We have seen equally hazardous days when the country's whole future was at stake.

Forty years ago Britain was at its lowest ebb since the war with people and government divided. We had become ungovernable.

Raging inflation - over 20 percent - the lights on just three days a week, almost three million unemployed, mountains of rubbish uncollected in the streets. The position seemed hopeless.

Britain was saved by a steely, dogmatic leader, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, but at huge cost.

The lesson for today from that upheaval, revolution, is the need for strong, ruthless leadership and that is the most worrying aspect of these extraordinary times.

Looking back to the 1980s I am impressed by the quality of government, ministers and members.

Mostly men, they spoke clearly and directly, even when highly critical of the prime minister, who, at the time, seemed to be sinking. Mrs Thatcher fought on. An amazing leader. 

That is what is sadly lacking in these tumultuous days. Mr Johnson is the wrong leader, in fact he is no leader, and Britain needs much more than him and his raggle taggle army of foot soldiers.

No one seems capable of facing facts or trying to present openly and honestly the problems facing us and the dilemma of difficult decisions to be made. They are just not up to it. Out of their depth and dragging down the people's spirits.

One heartening sign is the increasingly robust performance of Sir Keir Starmer, navigating a tricky political path. He has a formidable task but at last there is a hint of a realistic, strong opposition to goad and perhaps guide this hesitant government.

Politics must take a back seat in the pandemic but it is still important if the country is to stay united and strong. 

Britain somehow has to drag itself back to confidence and self reliance.It succeeded, against the odds, forty years ago.

Britain was saved

Coronavirus diary, Thursday 29 October

Hospitals have never been more essential than today. Few people want to become patients but there is a fascination, a mystique almost  about them

Apart from providing an endless source of drama for television and film,

But what is our personal experience of  hospitals?

If we are fortunate, minimal. My mother Gwen only spent a week or so in Cardiff Royal Infirmary in her 102 years and that was when she was 101.

I have been fortunate in having limited experience. The first was when, as a five year old, I fell off a wall in our mini front garden in West Ham, breaking an arm.

It was mending when we went on holiday but on the first day I fell off a breakwater and broke it again. Every day for a week my mother took me to Margate hospital.

Hospital featured too much in my short army career. Taken ill on leave, it was feared I had meningitis and was taken, not to a military hospital, but Cardiff Infirmary where it turned out I had chicken pox!

A year later, my army service came to a stop with many weeks in hospital. First in Aldershot and then in a military hospital in the Wye Valley. As at Aldershot, the nurses were The Queen Alexandra Nursing Sisters. Tough ladies.

The highlight of my hospital life in Wales was listening to an orchestra of German prisoners of wars' daily concert.

I finally was able, and fortunate, to be able to get back to work and enjoy a very long career - nearly sixty years. 

After Rosemary died I had an uncomfortable three weeks in hospital in Llandough, recovering from a viral infection that led to selling the flat and moving to Sunrise.

Bob's view from Heath Hospital

Now I am back at Sunrise after three weeks in hospital in Cardiff's University Hospital of Wales, recovering from coronavirus, fully appreciating the magnificent care and treatment.  And amazed at the skill, teamwork, the co-ordination and dedication.

I am now back in Sunrise day to resume a more normal life - if ever our lives will be back to normal - but I can look back with gratitude at the effect hospitals have had on my long life.

Coronavirus diary, Wednesday 28 October

For months I have been criticising the media for presenting a consistently black picture of the pandemic, adding to the general sense of frustration and, still, fear. And the second wave is starting to swamp us. The media offer little encouragement or hope, belittling the efforts being made to solve the coronavirus mystery.

It is deliberate, heartless. A disgrace. It is right across the media, with daily scare headlines not just in the tabloid press. Unforgivably, the BBC is the worst offender. There is no respite. Every bulletin and the 24 hour news service is obsessed with statistics, presented almost identically, with charts and statistics  dwelling on infections and the mounting daily death toll.

Fergus Walsh, the BBC’s indefatigable medical editor, is back with reports from “the front line”- the hospitals - making it almost a television drama. Never afraid to quote worrying facts such as the death statistics for the elderly. 

What does that do for people like me?

Everyday brings more of the same. Yesterday we had more sombre news.

As usual, research is the culprit  A team from Imperial College London reports that antibodies wane within months with the possibility of getting COVID-19 multiple times.

It received mass media coverage with The Daily Telegraph headlining its front page with, Immunity only last months, study finds. Not even ‘study suggests'.

All day the BBC led with the story with that infuriating backcloth of brightly coloured dancing viruses

That is the trouble with reporters. They are happy to accept press releases without reservation, suddenly becoming experts themselves. 

This whole approach to coronavirus ‘news’ is a disgrace and a danger.

I am more than another of the coronavirus statistics Thanks to prompt and excellent care and nursing I am almost well again after a dangerous few weeks.

 Relieved and looking forward to getting back to my former, if limited, life. I do not want to be warned of new dangers ahead.

Coronavirus diary, Tuesday 27 October

Of all the 100 countries struggling to cope with the epidemic, surely none has the more difficult task than the UK. With the government at first not appreciating the need for immediate action it has stumbled from error to disaster, uncertain which path to take in a dense forest.

It is a battle on several fronts. The most serious is to stem the second wave with past action, as in most countries, proving ineffective. The second is to keep the economy going as the flood of job losses continues. 

Even the political scene is changing with dozens of Conservative MPs demanding a definite, clearly presented ‘exit' plan, the lack of which is causing upheaval in many areas in the UK with local authorities at loggerheads with the government.

Despite continuing inexcusable delay in solving test and trace, the Health Secretary for England is still making excuses, insisting it was doing incredibly well. 

Brexit is adding to the confusion, and here too, the government is hoping ‘something will turn up’ to save the day with the old tactic of blaming the EU.

But the UK position is made even worse by the increasing threat of a breakup of the union.

The devolved countries, dissatisfied with the lack of leadership and cooperation by Boris Johnson, are going their own way, making their own decisions.

Even the rare government success, the Chancellor’s moves to save jobs, is starting to be questioned

What a muddled, worrying scene. No one knows the answer- the motley army of academics, health experts, modellers, media pundits and certainly not us public.  Like the government, we just live in hope that something will turn up.

Coronavirus diary, Monday 26 October

Seven months ago coronavirus cast a cloud of uncertainty and fear over the world, affecting the lives of billions of people.

Despite all the efforts the cloud still hangs over us 

My life changed again when I was one of eight Sunrise residents tested positive and I obviously wondered what form it would take.

For the first week or more? Not very significantly, almost like a serious cold, but it deteriorated with nausea, swings from being too cold and too hot, sleeplessness and even delusions.

A fall in the bathroom in early morning proved disastrous. I was unable to get up off the floor and spent two hours trying to reach the alarm pulls. I was rescued by two carers who got me  back into bed via a hoist. My condition worsened and I asked to be taken to hospital.

That was weeks ago and it was the right decision, With constant nursing, I am on the mend. One problem was I had a broken ankle and my knees problem made me immobile.

After three weeks in hospital and some very difficult days the nursing and treatment is working. Progress was slow until a few days ago when I was given some new tablets to stop the pain and enable me to sleep. There was an immediate effect. I asked for an increase and there was a remarkable effect. The pain is less than for months, I can get out of bed and am starting to walk again and manage to look after myself. What a difference from being helpless and reliant upon others.

My recent experience, different from anything in my life so far, makes me appreciate how fortunate I am and how much I want to go on to enjoy some happy months, years perhaps.

I have always taken inspiration from Mum who combined incredible resilience with good humour. She even managed to convince the doctor she knew what she could manage, making him give way on how she lived. Of course it was Dorothy who saved Mum by caring for her for fifty years after Dad died but her spirit was indomitable. She was stubborn. Told she had to stay in bed until lunchtime she compromised - but insisted on moving downstairs so she could see and be part of life. She had constant visitors, family and friends And, best of all for her, the children all, of who loved Nanny. She even, worked from her room in the front of the house. Dorothy had for years worked at home on the store finances for Peacocks stores, which were then owned by a friend of the family. Mum used to operate a mini counting machine but could work just as well without it - she had been a book keeper before she married. She was stubborn, too. Despite being told not to walk downstairs when in Winnipeg Drive she fell and we feared the worst. But when we got her off the floor she was laughing.

Another fall, when she was 101, broke a hip and was taken to hospital - but she was out in a week.

Rosemary, lovely Owy, has kept me going especially over the recent dark days. I have been talking to her. And I know I have the whole family behind me. Why would I not want to carry on enjoying life? The uncertainty continues for all of us but it will end, or at least lessen. People just can’t stop. It would help if we just stopped concentrating, obsessively, on coronavirus. There is good news about but it is being swamped by the avalanche of statistics and research. 

Let’s get on.

Coronavirus diary, Friday 2 October

A new month and onto the darker days of autumn. Unfortunately, the pandemic news matches the darker mood. 

The hope that life would gradually ease back towards normal and that we might be spared a second wave has been dashed with serious increases in cases throughout the UK and around the world.

A third of Wales is now under new restrictions while swathes of England are caught up in the revival of coronavirus with government orders, rules and theories creating dismay and confusion.

There seems to be no coherent plan, just a patch as we go in the hope rather than expectation that the pandemic will weaken.

After months of promises, the test and trace system  is still not effective and we are spurred on by slogans backed by a multi million pound publicity budget.

The mood in Sunrise is sombre with the death of two of our oldest residents, Cecilia who celebrated her 104th birthday a few months ago and Ian who was blind.

All residents are now in lockdown in their rooms, with the restaurant closed and no activities. Boring, but necessary.

All the staff are in full personal protection equipment.

Sara and Virgil, the managers, called in to let me know what was happening. They are at a loss to know how, after months of scrupulous care, things have gone wrong but, like everything connected with this pandemic, there seems no logical answer.

It is disappointing and discouraging, but there's not much more we can do than hope for the best and carry on.

Coronavirus diary, Thursday 1 October

The impact of coronavirus has been shattering, casting fear, panic even, around the world. An invisible giant clumsily spreading confusion.

Governments and people are struggling to save lives and economies, with insufficient knowledge and resources.

But the pandemic has another dimension. It has exposed the shallowness and self indulgence of our lifestyle over recent decades. Nowhere more so than in Britain. 

One reason for the descent into hedonism and self satisfaction has been the development of the digital age and the devil may care attitude of government and people. 

We were all so caught up with our free flowing life style that we did not see the dangers or prepare for set-backs.

Even the economic recession in 2009 did not teach us or our leaders to prepare for more crises ahead.

This attitude is reflected in many aspects of life.

Education, with decades of  indecision about its purpose and its provision, with confusing changes of curriculum; the idea of universities for all, the neglect of  technical and vocational  training, the collapse of apprenticeships. 

The criminal neglect of social care and of the disadvantaged and the elderly, the underfunding of local government, the refusal to appreciate and meet the ever growing needs of the health service, and, internationally, the decline in Britain's influence and respect.

The disgraceful lowering of standards in parliamentary and public life.

All these shortcomings are being cruelly exposed.

We are bewildered, unsure of ourselves and fearful for the future. 

Yet somehow we have to find the answers, to make life safer, and fairer, while tackling the coronavirus giant.