Crises – Culinary v COVID

Sue was ostensibly wiping the dining table but in reality discreetly “monitoring” Ravi’s progress in preparing breakfast independently. One last sweep with antiseptic wipes and it would be done.

Final assignment topic Maximising Independence. “Evidence a challenging scenario, choose your own title ” her practice teacher had instructed. 

Caring in the time of Coronavirus.  Challenging enough?  was her unvoiced riposte.  That’s the title she thought. Ravi was the obvious star. 59  years old and before she had become his key-worker  6 months previously, he had never used a kettle or microwave in 40 years living at SeaView Court Supported Living.  Now, look at him.

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Moral Crisis

Ellie reported for work in the intensive care ward of her hospital, a job she loved. One name popped up in the daily briefing. Bile rose in her throat, her hands were shaking. It took all her self-control to calm down.

Bed number 6 was her step-father, a man she loathed, suffering from a breathing problem, at present on high levels of oxygen. Memories raced through her mind of her beautiful confident mother reduced to a mouse-like creature. Years of put downs, how she would never amount to anything as she was too stupid.

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No Words …

It was an extraordinary few weeks to have lived through. The causes have never been fully revealed, although many have subsequently attempted to attribute blame, and no end of conspiracy theories continue to circulate – as though lessons still have not been learned. All I can do is offer an account of the way it seemed to me.

It was in the middle of the Era of Unpleasantness, a time of destruction, disease and self-interest, which had befallen humankind. There were some attempts to mitigate the worst cruelties to people and the natural world but these were often crushed and were never likely to change completely the way things were.

My first inkling was when my books seemed to have turned into blank paper. How very strange, and particularly so when my computer files seemed to be doing the same thing. When I tried to call friends, the phone merely gave out mechanical beeps. Neighbours waved but couldn’t talk. It seemed as though words had gone missing, as though a modern-day Pied Piper had lured them into a mountain-side and trapped them there.

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Mind Virus

It started with a sniffle, and a couple of hours later he noticed he had an earache. By noon his throat was dry; tap-water wouldn’t ease it. The following day all his muscles ached, and he was sure he had a temperature. He went to sleep in the afternoon, feeling like a truck had knocked him down. Next morning, he couldn’t get up. He just lay in bed hot and sticky, feeling like he was buried. The days passed and got worse. He ought to ring 111, but he had no credit on his pay-as-you-go phone.

            As he lay there, his small, bare flat seemed to be shrinking. He’d lived in it ten years, and hadn’t gone out in over twelve months. He knew his mind was bust, and now his body was too. Nothing to be done, he told himself. You’ve been ignored since you came to this country. Still are, man.

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Fortress or Jail

“Oh no!” cried Sally as she stared at her television.  The “Breaking News” bulletin from the Prime Minister was severe.

“STAY INDOORS.” 

She had been following the progress of the invisible enemy, a previously unknown virus that was currently sweeping the country, but she had not expected to be in lockdown. She could feel the panic starting to rise in her chest. 

“YOU MUST STAY INDOORS FOR AT LEAST THREE WEEKS, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, THIS WILL BE REVIEWED AT THE END OF THAT PERIOD.”

Sally went to check her food stocks.  At least her freezer was full and she had quite a few canned goods.  She would be able to survive.

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The last post

I woke in a strange bed, which itself was in a large, unfamiliar room. Around me were a collection of machines and tubes, one of which was clamped to my face by elasticated straps. Chromium mannequins dressed in medical scrubs roved the tiled floor between the foot of my bed and the adjacent wall, clicking and whirring as they made their way from one task to another. I recognised them as robotic nurses from some TV show.  

“Good evening, Mister Craws,” said a voice. I turned my head to see a robot hovering to one side of my bed, a fresh set of tubes wrapped in sealed bags clutched in her three-fingered hands. “I’m Nurse 4. I’m here to change your breathing tube.”

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Crisis

I think the whole world is in crisis at the moment. Humanity is fumbling from one catastrophe to the next. Natural disasters abound from earthquakes and volcanoes erupting to, some say, human set fires that have wiped out most of the indigenous animals of Australia.

Now, we have the coronavirus which is sweeping the world. It astounds me that, the government are setting guidelines to keep people safe. However, we are hearing about people partying and holding barbecues, flouting the safety rules, and all because the weather is unseasonably quite warm.

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