Plague!

There’s only one subject of conversation at the moment; the Coronovirus/ Covid-19.

Because we are dedicated followers of fashion, indeed, bleeding edge fashion setters, we chose early adoption. We’ve been off work for a week with it now. We both thought they were being stupid at work, sending us home to self-isolate, then it hit us hard.

The thinking is that 80% of cases will just be mild. Which sounds nice until you look at the definition of ‘mild’. Anything not requiring “machine assisted breathing” is mild. Cases developing into pneumonia can still be mild.

The other thing I read is that bad cases usually require hospitalisation within 7 days. We are approaching that with no serious issues. Hopefully ours is right at the mildest end of the scale.

For us it has been a horrible weakness that comes upon you mostly in the afternoons. You can still do stuff if you really wanted to, but all you want to do is flop. It’s nasty.

The other thing, as it’s a virus that attacks your lungs, is an odd pain deep in your chest, and the cough.

Wendy’s had that for days, but thankfully it’s not getting any worse, I started properly with it last night. The coughing is just little patches every now and then, nothing constant or irritating. The lung pain is pretty constant. It’s a very mild pain, but it is really unsettling.

The worst thing, which is totally unexpected, is it messes with your head. I noticed a week ago that I was feeling a bit rough, then suddenly I felt like I was having a panic attack.

In the same way “depression” is confused in common usage with “a bit sad”, panic attack has come to mean “a bit flustered”.

I don’t mean that. I mean sudden, irrational, thought blocking fear. It only lasted a few seconds but it was terrifying. I was actually hoping it was just that I’d caught the potentially lethal bug rather than that I was going insane again.

And now the lung thing has kicked in it is provoking more of the same. Wendy’s had bouts of it, so it’s not just me.

I am particularly miffed as, in normal life, due to my condition, I don’t really suffer from fear. I’m not boasting, or pretending I’m brave. I used to think I was, but it’s not true, it’s just that BPD makes you take risks without caring about the consequences. It’s not bravery, it’s a mental health issue.

When they said covid-19 has a 7% mortality rate, my first thought was to lick the first person I met with it. I like those odds and I hate waiting.

Wendy was wildly opposed, by the way.

So you can see just how much of a nasty shock having panic attacks is to me.

At least I’m not going insane.

 

Also, because we live in an arbitrary yet vindictive universe, as soon as the government were finally pressured into a lockdown (by the French threatening to close their border as a health risk) the rain stopped and it was lovely and sunny. We’re stuck in the house, bored and a bit poorly, just as it’s getting to motorcycling weather. Super.

 

Selling my Honda is pretty much off the table for the foreseeable future. The economy is tanking, all non-essential businesses have been ordered to close, the workers are getting furloughed or sacked, and even if someone had the money to buy it they aren’t allowed to travel to pick it up.

 

I’ve got to ring my work tomorrow. That’s the end of my 7 day isolation. I can’t see me going back just yet. The afternoon malaise hasn’t struck yet, but the lung pain (more of a discomfort) has started already.

Even if I could tough out the weakness I’m fair sure they don’t want me to kill all the fat old drivers.

 

There have been a few, ironic, political laughs.

Basically every policy St Jezza was slagged off for, as being too expensive and/ or impossible is coming to pass.

They’ve nationalised the railways, after a decade of the poor starving to death because there was no magic money tree they’ve suddenly found and spent more than Jezza’s planned budget, and at the drop of a hat they’ve ended homelessness. As someone on Twitter observed, thousands of poor kids starve to death every day all around the world but nothing is done because the rich can’t catch that. The Murdoch owned, Tory agenda, Financial Times ran an article saying this is the end of the Johnson project. People will not stand for a cash starved, threadbare NHS after this. I hope so. Another irony is a headline yesterday in the Torygraph saying that Britain will starve unless we fly in 90,000 Eastern European skivvies to pick the crops.

Brexit. Biting the hand the feeds it since inception.

 

Twitter has been providing some light relief in these worrying times.

 

Stay safe out there.

Later,

Buck.