Category Archives: Op-eds

Social prescribing is a relatively new concept within health care. It means that health professionals can refer a patient towards non-clinical activities that will improve their health, in many cases for free.

I first came aware of social prescription in Kingston when our GP referred us both to the Get Active programme, which is a 12 week course under the supervision of a trainer in a local gym.  It was free when we did it, but they now charge a small amount per session.

GPs in my NHS area can also refer a patient to one of several local slimming clubs, entitling them to 12 weeks free membership. It makes so much sense – the patient has the benefit of expert advice and a support group, and the cost to the NHS is much less than through their own programmes. To qualify you have to live in the Borough, have a BMI greater than 28 and be over 16.

These activities, and very many others, were all pulled together about 6 months ago in Connected Kingston. This is a joint project run by Kingston Council, the NHS and Kingston Voluntary Action, our umbrella organisation for the voluntary sector. Local residents can search for advice and activities on just about anything that is provided by local voluntary or public services, and health providers can prescribe quite a number of them.

So lockdown has reached Ambridge at last, just as the rest of the country is beginning to ease itself back to normality.

The Archers is the only soap I follow these days, and I only got sucked in properly during the Rob and Helen coercive control storyline over four years ago. Before that I had dropped in from time to time, often listening in the car as I was driving to evening meetings. In fact, “Dum di dum di dim di dum” had echoed throughout my adult life.

I can actually remember the shock that reverberated through the village when the unmarried Jennifer got pregnant and refused to say who the father was (although it was later revealed to be the result of a fling with the cowman).  Adam, her son, is now over 50. He is married to Ian, the chef at Grey Gables, and has recently become a father, through surrogacy, to young Xander – which demonstrates neatly how things have changed in 50 years.

Episodes of the soap are written and recorded in six week cycles, some time ahead of the broadcast date. The actual recordings take place over the course of one week, which is why, if an actor is unavailable for that week they have to be written out of the show for six weeks. Tamsin Grieg, who is much in demand for stage and TV work, still pops back occasionally, but her character Debbie now conveniently lives in Hungary (I can’t remember why).

When lockdown was imposed on the rest of the country on 23rd March there were still five weeks’ worth of broadcasts in the can. The producers decided to cut down from six episodes per week to five, which gave them an extra week’s grace. However, this had the odd effect of getting The Archers even more out of sync with the rest of the world, and they appeared to be celebrating Easter (with the church still open) on a Wednesday.

It’s a Bank Holiday – and, miraculously, the sun is shining! That’s not very British, is it?  It’s also quite ironic, given that many of us can’t get out and about to enjoy the day. The Government is, apparently, considering an extra Bank Holiday in October, but we can be pretty sure that the weather won’t be like today.

The UK tourism industry is really suffering this year. Already several hotel groups have collapsed or are struggling, and here and here. The coach industry is ‘decimated’.

Travelling abroad is a non-starter for most people because they will have to go into self-isolation for two weeks on their return. Hotels and other holiday accommodation will have to remain closed at least until 4th July, but even then will only be able to open if they can show that they are sticking to the guidelines.

In practice a number of hotels have remained open through lockdown, but not to their usual guests. Some are providing accommodation for rough sleepers through their local Councils, or to key workers who can’t return home, or are acting as refuges for people escaping domestic violence. Others are providing meals for key workers or for people in need, while some are housing food banks.

Coach tour operators are in a particularly difficult position, because for some reason they are not classified as being part of the leisure industry so can’t claim rates relief. Understandably, they think they should be treated at this time in the same way as hotels.

I haven’t ordered a takeaway since going into isolation, hence the query in the headline. Should I?

I am scrupulously careful with anything that comes into our home. Anything that can wait is left in the hall for a couple of days before I open it. That can’t be done with any food deliveries that need to go into the fridge or freezer, so I wipe bags and packages with antiseptic wipes and wash my hands after handling them. In any case, I am pretty confident that the major supermarkets are taking protective measures, so am not too worried by the things I order from them.

Takeaways are another matter. Many local restaurants that were already providing takeaways have had to focus on the delivery side to keep their businesses going. Others have ventured into deliveries for the first time, including some high end restaurants. It is really important to support these businesses, but are we taking any risks in doing so?

This morning I discovered the Miracle Sudoku – so the chances of my getting anything else done today went out of the window.

I’m fairly obsessive about sudoku, my current favourites being the killer variety. I usually do one in the newspaper over lunch, plus another couple on an app in the evening before going to bed.

But the Miracle Sudoku is something else, as you can see from the image. It contains exactly two numbers, so is unsolvable as it stands, of course. The point is that three extra rules are introduced to the normal sudoku rules. These are:

1. Anti-knight rule: No two squares that are a knight’s move apart may contain the same number.
2. Anti-king rule: No two touching squares (vertically, horizontally or diagonally) may contain the same number.
3. Non-consecutive rule: No two squares that are horizontally or vertically adjacent may have consecutive numbers.

If you want to have a go you can download a printable version of the Miracle Sudoku above, together with a couple of practice ones. Be warned – you will need to print several copies!

In the process I have come across Cracking the Cryptic – a YouTube channel devoted to solving the Times cryptic crossword and sudoku.  It is run by two experts: Mark Goodliffe and Simon Anthony, who have both represented the UK in the World Puzzle and World Sudoku Championships – no, I didn’t know either.

On 10th May Simon Anthony was presented with the Miracle Sudoku for the first time and solved it live in around 20 minutes. (Spoiler alert: demonstrates the solution!)

As I write, at around 12 midday, I have managed to fill in all the 1s, 2s and 3s, and I promise I haven’t watched the video yet. I really must get dressed and clean the bathroom. Updates to follow.

I haven’t been commenting much on the news of the day in my diary – which is rather odd, given the way I usually closely follow political comings and goings.

Whilst living in this bubble of safety in my home, I have been very carefully controlling the impact of external information on my equilibrium. I do read a newspaper very day – we still have one delivered – I watch the BBC news throughout the day and usually catch up on the No 10 briefing, so I’m not missing out on much. But the unending tales of death and suffering are sometimes too much to bear, especially when there is little I can do to help, so I do ration them.

In the same way, I avoid joining in the blame game. People are understandably angry, and looking for someone to blame, hence those mad conspiracy theories. But what matters to me, here and now, is to keep us safe, both physically and mentally. I can do nothing about the causes of the situation that we are in, but I can make our enforced isolation work for us.

Eventually, with hindsight, as a nation we will get a better handle on how, when and why the decisions were made to combat the pandemic. But a couple of articles in the Guardian this week have raised some interesting points about the way the UK has dealt with the crisis.

On Tuesday George Monbiot pointed out:

We have been told repeatedly that the UK was unprepared for this pandemic. This is untrue. The UK was prepared, but then it de-prepared. Last year, the Global Health Security Index ranked this nation second in the world for pandemic readiness, while the US was first.

Today David Pegg follows that thread to suggest that although the UK was ready for a pandemic, it was ready for the wrong disease. He summarises how, under Tony Blair, the Government identified and prepared for a number of different potential civil emergencies.

Within its first year the unit drew up the national risk register, a comprehensive catalogue of all the civil emergencies that could conceivably strike the UK, which continues to be updated annually. At the top of the list – then and now – was an influenza pandemic.

A few weeks ago I was standing at the ironing board thinking “Why?”

Yes, why do we iron things? According to this history of ironing, the Chinese were doing it over 2000 years ago, using pans filled with hot water. Proper irons – made of the metal – were first use in the 17th century. The electric iron was invented in the 1880s and the steam iron in the 1920s. According to Wikipedia:

In the case of cotton fibres, which are derivatives of cellulose, the hydroxyl groups that crosslink the cellulose polymer chains are reformed at high temperatures, and become somewhat “locked in place” upon cooling the item.

So that is when and how, but it still doesn’t explain why.

I do remember once calling in on a neighbour and finding her busy ironing underpants and J-cloths. My little quirk is to iron pillowcases. I don’t bother with sheets and duvet covers, but I rather like the sensation of lying down on a newly washed and ironed pillowcase. I also iron some of my smarter tops and trousers. Maybe between us we have found the reasons. Ironing gives a sense of control over a chaotic world, it makes some items feel better against the skin, and it gives the impression that we care about our appearance. And that’s about it.

After that epiphany, I decided that I would do no more ironing while in isolation. Of course, I have been slobbing around for most of the time in casual things, most of which I don’t usually iron anyway.