Skip to main content

Adapting to the Coronavirus World

It’s a bit of a jolt to find you are considered vulnerable. After all, I am only 73 and visit my local health centre only once a year for my ‘flu jab. A total of six days off work in the last 10 years says it all.

And yet .. my lung function ain’t what it used to be. That’s partly age and I used to suffer from asthma. So last time I was in, the nurse insisted I took a device to measure the size of my breaths.

So I think I have to accept that anything that goes for my lungs will affect me more than a strapping fit 21 year old.

Catching the COVID-19 bug means being close enough to other people for it to jump across. Keeping away from others is an obvious thing to do. And I have always had a list of people to avoid. But now it’s avoid everyone as much as I can.

And wash hands for longer and more frequently to remove the bug from my hands. Good sense!

For a week or two, we’ve moved from handshakes to elbow bumps. Quite amusing, a practical barrier to passing on bugs and a constant reminder that we need to avoid passing our bugs to others or pick up theirs.

Good habits can be good friends and these regular little reminders of changes in our routine work quite well for me.

Like lots of others I have been strongly encouraged, actually, it felt like an order, to stay at home and away from work.

That hasn’t meant idleness. Oh no!

Because in this modern world it is quite surprising how much of my work is done via a computer keyboard anyway.

The challenge of working at home I am finding is getting the peace to do it. Others in the household might seem to forget that you are away at work, but not actually away.

I miss the gossip as I pass along the corridor in Parliament en route from my office to the hot water machine for my tea. And miss the exercise when I walk to Parliament and up the five flights of stairs from the ground floor to my office in the MSP block.

Currently, I walk between 20 and 30 miles a week and being at home risks a decline in fitness and an increase in weight. Stopping using the lift at work has increased the volume of each breath by about 15% and that improvement is under threat.

Being at work means there is a daily routine and structure that keeps me fit physically and mentally.

Therefore the first thing I did was to create a new daily routine and write it into my electronic diary. It nags me as well as any paid assistant.

The day starts, as it always did, with an hour from about 0530 reading the world’s media while munching a bowl of porridge.

But now it’s followed by an hour labelled “walk”.

Yesterday and today that was 2.7 miles around Linlithgow Loch. I am amazed during today’s hour or so I met, and said good morning to, over a dozen runners, dog walkers and people like me.

So, yes I was keeping apart from others on my solitary walk, but not isolated from the human race. Perhaps I was more social than usual at 0700 in the morning.

I am now on a nearly deserted off-peak train to Inverurie. There are two others in my coach.

And my spouse advises that our store cupboard is adequately full. Country people usually see it is.

Hello Banffshire!



Published in The National, page 10, 20 March 2020

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Leisure

Today is our 51st wedding anniversary. And our 139th day since the commencement of lockdown. So we made careful choices, contemplated and then implemented our first day of leisure. And part of that has been not putting a hand to keyboard to write up the daily diary until 1800 hours. Herself had a, sort of, early celebration on Friday with a visit to the dentist for a check-up. She reports to being impressed by the care taken to prevent the transfer of infection between patients and staff. And that she still has teeth that were adjudged to be in very good condition. No followup work apart from an appointment being made for a routine hygienist's brush and polish next week. My dentist, for the time being, is not yet accepting bookings for routine work. And I have not detected a need for anything urgent. So what did we treat ourselves to? A visit to Sainsbury's was an important part of today's relaxation. And created the opportunity to purchase a celebratory meal - an Ind...

Day 41

Today is day 41 of lockdown for me. And with my cumulative my total walking exercise at 197.34 miles, it will as I suggested yesterday, be the day I cross the 200-mile "barrier". But it is also the first day, if memory serves me correctly, where we have 8 octas of cloud cover. No blue anywhere but a scrap of brightness to the east suggesting that as the sun rises in the sky, it may burn some holes in the overcast. More importantly, the garden is showing early signs of produce of value. The mint and chives are rising from the ground. There is nothing lifts a plate of food more than the addition of herbs fresh from the garden. A pot of shop herbs is fine but does not come covered with morning dew. Later the fennel will rise to the point where I can routinely nip a mouthful off as I pass and feel no guilt as I will barely affect its normally luxurious growth. The new rhubarb planted last year shows early signs of growth and the six new gooseberry and blackcurrant bushes ca...

Junior Chef and Dish Dryer

I first engaged with the most primitive cooking when at Boy Scout camp. We threw a raw onion into the fire, removed it when well burnt, peeled the black bits of the exterior, ate the all but raw interior. Lesson learned. Cooking is a wee bit more than simply the application of heat to potentially nutritious raw material. I even managed to win the cookery award at an inter-troop camping competition a few years later. Less of an achievement than it sounds as my main rival Iain - an accomplished master of the camp oven, a tin buried under a fire - had burnt his much-anticipated bacon and egg pie. Like in Government, at home a female - my spouse - is offering guidance on how I should deal with social distancing. And just as I am listening to the wise words of the First Minister and the Chief Medical Officer, - keep your distance, don't panic buy, no pub nights - I accept without argument the idea that two nights a week are mine to cook for. Brave, brave. But help is at hand...