As I lay here in my hospital bed, connected up to drips and feeling the warm glow from my last shot of morphine, I can’t help feeling the sense of dread that is leaching through the walls.
Wait, I hear you cry, whats with the hospital bed? Well I would like to say things went like this. 3 weeks ago I was flying a Cessna (one of my hobbies to relax after a hard week), when my appendix unexpectedly burst. I heroically ignored the pain and managed to land safely, before being whisked away for emergency surgery.
Well, that’s what I would like to say, but the truth is a little more mundane. I was actually flying, and my appendix did actually burst. However the initial symptoms were mild indigestion, and I landed the plane without even noticing.
4 days later I was in severe pain and ended up at A & E. After a CT scan and some blood tests, they admitted me for emergency surgery. At this point I was still quite laid back. I knew the appendix was a useless organ so wasn’t too worried about losing it. It was only when a nurse commented on how well I looked for ‘someone seriously ill’, that I started to worry. A quick Google revealed that said useless appendix, could become a fatal appendix once burst.
Surgery went well, although the surgeon commented it had been one of the worst cases she had dealt with. Unfortunately I then developed a massive after infection, and have been in here 3 bloody weeks. I am beginning to think it is easier to get out of prison, than hospital.
Anyway back to my first musings, when I came in, there were a handfull of Covid 19 cases in the UK, and a couple of deaths. 3 weeks later, reading the news reports and social media we appear to be on the verge of apocalypse. The expected deaths are being reported at anything from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands. Sport, outdoor events, pubs etc are being advised to close. People are fighting in the shops for supplies. Its like one of those movies where the hero becomes unconscious for a couple of weeks and when he wakes up society has collapsed!
What I am worried about, is do we have to start dressing like they did in Mad Max above. If so how soon, can we like wear our normal cloths until they wear out. Or will we have to immediately wear the new styles.
Absurd? It is rather, but then again, is it anymore absurd than grown adults fighting over toilet roll. Some of the stocks people have they are going to need to crap hundreds of times a day to get anywhere near using it. Once this crisis is over, the poor toilet roll makers are going to be twiddling their thumbs for months whilst people use up the stocks they have.
Looking at some of the scenes we appear to have turned into a nation of Corporal Jones’s You know the character from Dads Army, who screams ‘Don’t panic, don’t panic’ whilst running around like a headless chicken in a blind panic. In some ways I think a zombie apocalypse might have been better. The supermarket shelves always seem full in a zombie apocalypse.