I am struggling with my feelings a little this week. There is a sense of foreboding which for me, is normally a sign anxiety has gripped me by the throat and wants to spoil my fun again. I feel as if I am waiting for something to happen, that I have too much to do, that I am trying to solve problems that aren’t there or trying to control circumstances that can’t be controlled. Like COVID and climate change, exam results or the football.
Perhaps this uneasy awareness that dominates my waking hours isn’t helped by the somewhat conflicting messages I am hearing about COVID. We are supposed to be getting back to ‘normal’ in less than 2 weeks as the UK drops the cautionary protective measures put in place for COVID, yet we are being told that new variants are inevitable, and we could see positive COVID cases escalate to over 100,000 a day. Perhaps I’m struggling because we are still not allowed to watch our kid’s sports days or crickets matches, yet thousands have crammed into Wimbledon and Wembley this week which doesn’t seem fair game at all. And although weddings are now taking place, guests are still not allowed to sing in church or dance at the reception, as this violates current government guidelines – however, it is perfectly acceptable to scream and cheer in unison in packed pubs, grabbing strangers and throwing COVID tainted beer in the air for good measure when a ball hits the back of a net. Thank goodness the Year 13 Graduation Day at my son’s school was cancelled. Who knows what horror those Sixth Formers may have spread as they planned to stand outside sipping a civilised drink and passing the time of day with the Headmaster?
This period feels like an eerie calm before the inevitable storm. The fact that England has reached the Euro ’20 football final on Sunday fills me with joy and excitement, yet the build-up is feeding into my sense of trepidation. The freedom I should be revelling in when we can finally go about our business without restrictions on the 19 July for me is tinged with a real feeling of fear. Are we ready? I am not sure I am going to be flinging my mask off when in a crowded area. Not quite yet. We have all given up so many, many liberties over the last year or so, I would hate to go back to the dark days of a winter lockdown. It’s OK for us Double-Vaxxers, who are old and responsible enough to get our jabs. We are alright, Jack, bring it on. But what about my 17-year-old and his friends, dying to get out there and party who haven’t had the chance to be vaccinated yet against a variant which may not necessarily kill, but can still make them quite ill? I don’t want him suffering long covid or ending up with an underlying condition we don’t quite understand yet, just because we are a nation full of impatience and have opened the flood gates a little too quickly. Surely finish our vaccination roll out for the teens first – they have missed out on enough these last 18 months. We still don’t really know if being double-jabbed prevents the spread - we may not catch COVID ourselves but could carry it, spreading disease like plagued fleas on rats. I am not sure countries too poor or too disorganized to roll out mass vaccination programmes will appreciate us turning up to drink in their bars and shop in their markets as we cough and splutter around tourist traps. We are alright, Jack. Sorry about your granny.
I hope I am wrong. I hope my growing consternation can be blamed purely on the football. I hope variants are quashed and we learn to live with COVID, and it becomes as inconvenient as a bad case of ‘flu. And I am sure it will be if we exercise a little awareness and restraint. If we are going to fully open-up, then the message from Those That Rule should be one of care and consideration for others and acknowledgement that there will be those around who want to be a little cautious and take steps at their own pace. Billing the 19 July as ‘Freedom Day’ sounds like an invitation to hold one huge irresponsible party, celebrating our liberty as we mark the end of a long gruelling war, defeating our enemy in one final epic battle. We haven’t. The enemy is still there. ‘Freedom Day’ should really be called ‘Surrender Day’ as we haven’t won anything, and people are still fighting. And as far as the virus goes, nothing would have changed apart from a set of rules, which, in my opinion, tend to be made up on the spot by contradictory politicians and changed on a whim to suit a set of circumstances.
On that note, enjoy the football. Fingers crossed my gut feeling is wrong and I just have pre-match nerves.
That, or I am overthinking again.
© The Real Tilly Fairfax
