Covid – my part in its downfall.

On Saturday I received notification from the NHS that I was eligible for the Covid vaccination and yesterday I booked an appointment this Thursday at a local racecourse.

I refrained from following the Covid information from the first lockdown as I preferred to listen to an expert I trusted, Grania, who works in a hospital in Malta.

In March last year she warned of Covid’s long-term lung damage; she was critical that the wearing of masks was not universal; above all she felt that instead of the early government view of confidence that this was a war they would eventually win, the resolution was to accept living with and around Covid and combating it with vaccination and a cocktail of drugs.

This was adopted by Matt Hancock in a recent speech.

Grania also predicted that a herd policy would result in a second more dangerous strain.

My doctor called Covid “One of 78,000 illnesses out there” whilst a couple of specialist consultants were concerned that they were months behind in diagnostic work.

Then there was the damage to the economy and morale.

I recall the AIDS campaign of the 1970s when the health minister Norman Fowler sanctioned those scary tombstone adverts.

This time it was almost as if the public were not to be trusted.

Sage and Boris Johnson knew best.

We learned new terms like “furlough” and “the bubble” but many were confused by the regulations and either ignored them or in the case of Dominic Cummings interpreted them to their own advantage.

To protect the NHS and myself – but really on the advice of Grania – I self-isolated in all the lockdowns.

I’m used to living in my own and had projects and interests to keep me amused and engaged.

I played in quizzes and joined online courses in which the participants spoke more about Covid than the subject of them. I managed Zoom calls and meetings.

Now, with an extremely well-organised roll out, 15 million people have been vaccinated.

This is impressive.

Only Germany gets near with 4m. The end is in sight.

A close friend went down with it last April and I lost a few others I knew less well; saddest of all was the delightful Ken Collins, my barber for many years at Claridges in the late 70s and 80s.

Once as a presumptuous young man I gave the neighbour client to my seat the benefits of my views on the Ford Franchise operational system.

Ken informed me afterwards that the man I was lecturing was Henry Ford.