
Journal entries


Susan Green of Littleport describes how the local FoodBank is managing during the corona lock-down. Susan and Elaine Law have run an independent food-bank in Littleport for several years. They have provided much more than food to local families. Advice, practical assistance and boundless compassion are just some of the invaluable help they give to their community.
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Susan Green: Littleport Independent Food Bank Co-ordinator. April 2020.
Foodbank has now taken on a new life whilst we are under lockdown. We now deliver to people’s doorsteps once a fortnight, unless there is an emergency (and we have had several of those). We are now in the third week [of lockdown] and our food deliveries have doubled. To start with we were anxious that our food stocks may run out, but we had reckoned without the good caring community we live in. Even though people have anxieties of their own they are still giving to others.
This Easter we have been able to give Easter Eggs to all the children on our rounds, and for this we are very grateful We have had sacks of potatoes donated, which is marvellous as potatoes are filling, and a baked potato with many things make a meal.
To be honest we feel like one big family, delivering to doorsteps. We knock on the doorstep, go back to the car and wave when the food is taken in. Lots of smiles and good wishes all round. We collect donations in the same way as not everyone can get out to the shops to put in our donation boxes.
Sometimes we feel like ducks. We seem to just sail along .... but under the water our feet are paddling away very fast. Elaine [Law], Mandy [Orchard] and myself all keep in contact by the wonder of [Face book messaging!]. We discuss what food we have, and who needs to have what. Each of us has our own set round for deliveries, so people can contact just one person, which keeps life less complicated, or rather that is the theory. As we know the people we deliver to, we are able to put in their bags what we think will be best suited to their needs.
We like to keep a holistic approach to helping people. One size does not fit all.
When this is all over, we will never forget the compassion from our community. 11/4/2020

Tuesday 17 March 2020. Pat Davis, Ely Cambs.
It doesn’t seem possible that in a very few weeks our lives have changed so much. It’s like being in an apocalyptic story. Not so long ago I was looking forward to seeing a relay from the Met in New York of the Flying Dutchman. Then the cinema in Cambridge sent an e-mail to say although they were still open the film had been cancelled by the Met. A few days later my friend Tricia contacted me to say she thought our holiday to Italy in first two weeks of May would probably be cancelled.
It all started with reports of a new virus in a city in China. Nothing to do with us too far away. Then the number of people infected started to grow. Then some died and China ended up going in to lock down. A word we are now all getting used to hearing. There followed weeks as the virus slowly spread. Still no cause for worry. It was no worse than a heavy cold just some older people with health problems were dying.
As it reached Europe the numbers infected gradually started to increase. Still no point in worrying they were only in the hundreds. In England we had two or three cases. We were told to wash our hands frequently and all would be well. Even when the first person died there was no panic. I think it was the day I turned the radio on and there was no announcement of the number of infected or dead that I started to think there was more to it than we had thought.
It all seemed to snowball very quickly from there. Last week we were told if you had a new persistent cough or a fever you should stay at home for seven days. Older people should be particularly careful about mixing with others. People began to stock up their store cupboards. Businesses started projecting trouble. In Europe Italy in particular strong measures were being taken. Schools and universities were closed. People were encouraged to stay home. Then non essential shops were told to close. Places of entertainment and culture were closed. Countries were going into lock down.
In England we did it differently. Schools would not close. Who would look after the children? Not grandparents they were in the high risk group. If people had to take time off work that could affect not only business but also the NHS. The big race meeting was still held. Thousands gathering together. Football was beginning to be affected as a few players and staff tested positive for the virus. Life was defiantly getting more complicated. Then businesses started feeling the pinch. Supply lines from other countries, especially China, were beginning to break down. Shops were having their shelves emptied by panic buying. Loo paper could not be found for love or money.
Here is an opportunity - too good to miss - to talk entirely about myself.
The ache in my chest began on Sunday. As the day progressed, the ache intensified. So, come teatime, I phoned NHS 111. A male voice advised me to go to Addenbrooke's hospital's A/E within the hour.
Before entering A/E, a masked nurse wanted to know my business. And again, just inside the entrance, another challenge. Inside, lots of empty chairs and few patients. The most noticeable one was a wild-eyed, middle-aged man who kept angling for attention. Masked nursing staff just got on with their jobs.
More questions.
"Have you got a fever?" asked a masked face.
"No, I feel cold."
And so forth and so on. After being pushed on a gurney to X-ray by a most unhappy man with a huge belly, I was taken back to A/E. There tags were stuck all over my torso, wires to the tags, and an ECG done. Then came the final A/E test. The most difficult one. It's called waiting....and waiting...and more waiting.
In the early hours of the next day, I was admitted as a patient. And given a large room with toilet/shower en suite - all to myself.
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The next two days slipped by in oblivion. All I did was sleep; only disturbed by regular tests for such things as; blood pressure, sugar level, blood oxygen level, temperature [despite feeling cold, a masked face said that my temperature was high], etc.
On Wednesday morning, I felt much better. So much so, that I felt a fraud. Time to go home.
A doctor came to listen to my lungs with a stethoscope. One lung had been infected and contained fluid. Crackled.
"Yes?" I asked.
"I'm waiting for two results: blood taken yesterday; and the Covid-19 taken 48 hours ago."
And off he went.
An hour or so later. A man in hospital scrubs and hidden behind PPE came to my room. He handed me two sheets of paper.
"You will be one of the first persons at Addenbrooke to have this drug," he said in a tone suggesting that congratulations were in order. "It's called Rivaroxaban and for patients with Covid-19 as there's a higher risk of blood clots with the disease. Have you any questions?"
I was alarmed. Speechless. I may have been recovering from corona-virus but what of my wife? She will surely catch it! She has a serious underlying medical condition. What chance has she got!
Time slowly passed: I paced the room....stared from the window....paced the room.
Hours later, another man opens the door and announces:
"Your Covid-19 test is negative."
Glory! Hallelujah!
So, dear reader, watch out for yourself in these troubled times. Don't relax your guard.
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PETER GREEN, MAY 2020