Here I am still going out and working in Tier 3 with a vulnerable adult who is getting more vulnerable (absolutely due to lack of stimulation caused by lockdown). I’m basically betting on my O-negative blood beating out my dodgy immune system and sucky lungs.
I’m not as nervous as I was back when no one knew anything about coronavirus, at least partly because I’m more confident in the measures I’m taking. But then I’m aware that if I get it at this stage and it’s serious there won’t be an ICU bed for me if I need it. That’s pretty much a death sentence.
The thing is, there’s so much I want to do with my life, so much that I’m in the middle of doing, but there’s also so much that I have done. I won’t be happy if I die (victory over my mental health anyone?), but if it happens then it happens.
There has been a distinct silver lining for me out of lockdown and that is that said dodgy immune system if mine has had a significant rest this year. After lockdown started back in March I simply haven’t been ill. I am feeling so much better after this break from the usual levels of assault from the average variety of viruses. It’s not just me imagining this either, apparently there have been three hospitalisations from flu across the UK in the last couple of months, which is somewhat unusual.
I mean I’m also hopeful, as someone who has played a lot of Plague Inc, that the virus gets let’s deadly as it evolves. I suspect this level of sangfroid has at its base a level of guilt for feeling improvement from the thing that is causing such distress and problems for others.