My friends Judith and Anthony Duvivier have left London for their cottage in Windrush, in the Cotswolds, where I have often been a guest. They are both medical doctors. Anthony is a consultant dermatologist with his own private practice.
At a dinner celebrating their 40th anniversary two years ago in his speech Anthony told us that he has known me longer than he has known his wife, Judith. Yes, he had come to Malta to do a stage at St Luke's and my brother-in-law, then a medical student, brought him home and told us to look after him. We now communicate on Facetime with the occasional email in between. He promptly opened a bottle of champagne last time round on Facetime, as they do when I go to stay. Judith told me that he made sure they are well-stocked with wine and champagne down in Pear Cottage. You cannot rush out and grab a bottle down in Windrush. There is only one tiny store with essentials.
Here is how Judith and himself look upon their Corona days.
"Dear Marie one has such mixed feelings about this pandemic. On the one hand Judith and I are in Windrush watching spring slowly unfolding herself, reading, learning Italian, going for walks and being blessed by beautiful weather which I cannot remember at this time of year like this before. Our cleaning lady no longer cleans. I do that. However she goes to the supermarket and shops for us once a week so we are well provided for.
Judith is a wonderful cook and so we have had what I consider to be the most romantic dinners together every evening. We have also discovered the joys of FaceTime and Aperitivo Chats which has taken us all around the United Kingdom, Europe South Africa and California. It is, I hope you will agree after our conversation the other day, a wonderful way to communicate if one cannot be actually together.
It all sounds like an idyll and enforced retirement (hopefully temporary) has turned into one long holiday. However, contrast that with what is going on at the front line. Doctors, nurses and porters are dying. Fifteen London bus drivers (public servants) have died. The government did not properly prepare for this pandemic. Boris Johnson was too taken up with Brexit "let's get it done" that he did not attend five important Cobra meetings.
There is a shortage of personal protection equipment. Medical staff are forced to make a decision as to whether they attend or not to a patient without the proper equipment. It is appalling. The surgeon who does a lot of minor surgery for my patients has a son who works in intensive care. He won't talk about what is happening and it reminds my friend of his own father who was in a Japanese prisoner of war camp and who would never, ever, talk to his son about what happened there. It is pretty grim and we are going to probably have the worst figures in Europe.
The article I sent you from The Tablet, written by my friend and colleague Dr Sarah Walsh certainly shows the esprit de corps of the hospital but underlying it is great courage.
This is such dangerous stuff. There is an article in the Sunday Times which is pretty damning about the government. Boris of course is hors de combat and there is no real leadership. Everyone is demanding an exit plan. The young are having a terrible time especially those who are in the entertainment business because there is no work and they want to get back to work.
In a way things are being put on hold because of us elderly people and our vulnerability. I think we should go back to work by the end of May and we elderly can make up our own minds as to whether we risk contracting the virus or confine ourselves for months on end.
However, there are consolations. We have certainly had time to reflect. It has coincided with Easter although it has not been a joyous one, following it online. Good Friday's liturgy is usually a harrowing experience for me. This year it lacked lustre. The Easter Saturday vigil with the Exultet and ultimately the Gloria I find inspirational and uplifting.
We go to our glorious simple Norman Anglican church across the village green in the evening and say the Angelus, a psalm and pray for everyone who is affected by this virus. I don't suppose the Angelus has been said in that church since the Reformation so I find a quiet satisfaction in keeping the "Faith of our fathers" going whilst it stands empty and unloved.
I hope that I have got across the contrast between our surreal life down here and what is going on in the real world. We are a generation who were conceived in the war and brought up in the austerity of the 50s and yet have been blessed since the 60s.
We loved our FaceTime chat with you and look forward to Wednesday with much love, Anthony
I asked Professor Victor Grech, Consultant Paed. (Cardiology) whose paintings and photography are well known and who uses the proceeds from their sale for charity, to paint something in the time of Corona. You can see his work on this page. This is what he wrote accompanying his painting:
"In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. " Albert Camus.
While I habitually paint bright landscapes and seascapes, I find myself painting a bit more somberly... while this fisherman has not stayed at home but he fishes alone, beneath a dark and brooding sky. As we rally for the upcoming fight, I find that my colleagues in the Health Department have rallied magnificently. Supplies have been procured (no expenses spared), staff have been trained and prepared and contingencies have been planned. Several areas have been prepared so as to provide additional bed space, including corridors and Medical School. The calm before the storm reminds me of my beloved Star Trek:
"The crew has responded with the dedication I've come to expect from them... And like a thousand other[s] on a thousand other battlefields, I wait for the dawn." Captain Jean Luc Picard.
More from me next week if Corona decides to spare me. In the meantime let me state the obvious. Keep isolated and keep well.
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Victor Grech’s painting of the fisherman who did not stay in but went out to fish alone