Blog: 'Reflections of Lockdown'
In fond memory of Janet 1955 to 2019
By the age of 17 I had already had experience of being orphaned and for a time homeless and rough sleeping.
And just when I thought life couldn't deal me any more bad luck, I was involved in a near fatal car crash and ended up in intensive care and hospitalised for three months, strapped to a bed in traction and a further three months on a rehabilitation ward learning to walk again.
When I came back from the operating theatre I was in and out of consciousness and I remember my girlfriend at the time [Janet] holding my hand and saying: “Russell please don't leave me”.
I also saw a priest with holy water, sprinkling it around my head. I had intravenous lines coming from my body with all kinds of fluids being pumped into me.
I heard the consultant talking to a family member… 'the boy might not survive this… and I don't know if I can save his leg… the next few hours will be critical’.
That feeling of fighting for my life, being in a hospital bed and locked out from the world stayed with me most of my adult life.
The song - Marmalade ‘Reflections of my life’ - was also playing on almost a daily basis in my hospital radio headphones.
Despite early setbacks in life, I managed to build a business and even though in constant pain from arthritis and with mobility issues, I enjoyed a relatively successful career in the motor trade.
However just when life was starting to get comfortable lockdown number two arrived...
In the early 90s I contracted a life-threatening form of pneumonia that not only took half of my lung capacity it also took half my body weight. My consultant said, 'it's going to be touch and go whether you survive this, but time will tell'.
Survive I did but only after spending months in lockdown [as recommended by my consultant] due to the fear of catching another infection with my immune system being so very low.
I had become critically ill in the November 1990 and didn't reappear into the world until Easter 1991... And that world seemed a very scary place.
I developed a fear of everybody carrying a fatal virus and had to leave pubs and restaurants if people were coughing. I would constantly wipe crockery and cups with anti-bacteria wipes...
I was never fit enough to return to my business after this health setback, but eventually I did enter the world of volunteering and community activism.
This current lockdown for me has a nasty twist…
For many people [hopefully] Covid-19 will be their first experience of a lockdown, but for me it is a mixture of previous experiences all rolled into one. I constantly have flashbacks to my accident when I was 17, being cut out of a burning car by the fire brigade and paramedics and being hospitalised in intensive care.
Lockdown at 17 is a big thing when you are just beginning to enjoy life. So yes, I sympathise and empathise with the younger generation when restricted as to what they can and cannot do.
In my mid-60s I can reflect on my past success, my business, my university honorary fellowship, being published and recognised for my contribution to society. My lovely wife and my children, my grandchildren, and the life that I have enjoyed. But at 17 you have not got many memories to reflect on.
My second experience of lockdown, due to pneumonia, came as a massive shock - especially as my business was at the height of success and I was, as they say, living the dream...
I'm still in this third experience of lockdown [coronavirus] and it seems to me to be a combination of my previous experiences... Fear of the unknown, potential virus carriers, my life expectancy if I contract this disease.
Do you think I'm looking for sympathy? No not at all.
My wife and I are financially secure, we have a lovely house in the country overlooking open countryside with views of the Lake District fells in the distance.
We are enjoying the summerhouse; the garden and we benefit from supermarket deliveries on a regular basis.
Neighbours that we had previously only said hello to in the village have rallied round and given support and kindness.
Technology has also played a key supporting role, helping me to keep in daily contact with friends, family, and colleagues from around the world.
I am also very mindful of the people out there that are struggling. The 17-year-olds that are just starting to find their way in life.
The 40-year-old successful businesspeople who are losing everything that they have worked for.
And of course, the elderly who are isolated and separated from family and friends.
Broken Driftwood: a short poem
The voices are distant, yet reassuring. Through hazy gaze I make out Janet and feel her eyes looking down on me. “Russell,” she calls, her voice full of sadness, like broken Driftwood…” Don't leave me, don't go!
We seemed then to be lying hand-in-hand in soft sand, comforted by the warm sun, looking out across the sea, our minds dancing like boats on the horizon.
I gaze at vapour trails weaving across the sky and thrill to unexpected splashes of water carried by the breeze… Life..is full of hope.
“Russell, please don't leave me!” I feel my hand squeezed. My forehead caringly wiped…Tears flow down Janet’s cheeks, like sudden spring Rain.
Splashes of water startled me again, this time out of my dreamy vision and back into reality.
The bed of sand, is a cot, the vapour trails intravenous lines coming out of my battered, broken body.
A man holding a Bible and holy water emerges from the shadows..