ESTHER RANTZEN’S DIARY OF SELF-ISOLATION
At 79, Dame Esther Rantzen is one of the ‘oldies’ advised to self-isolate from Coronavirus. She’s been keeping a diary, which she shares with us here, along with how to deal with the loneliness and fear…
FRIDAY 13 MARCH
I’d suggested a daft film idea to the BBC’s One Show, and I filmed it today. Ben, the director from the show, was clearly pleased at the end of the day.
My son, a doctor, was less pleased, though, when I told him I’d been filming in a London taxi. ‘ Was that wise?’ he asked, disapprovingly –he’s worried about Coronavirus.
Thinking about it… I’m not sure now. But my next project is a documentary about bereavement and, with all the bad news around, I need my moments of laughter…
SATURDAY 14 MARCH
Right now I should be on a
Saga Cruise around Britain, raising money for The Silver Line (the helpline for isolated older people).
But given what’s happening around the world, I decided it would be safer to cancel.
Instead, I’m heading to our cottage in the New Forest.
Not taking many clothes, we’ll only need enough for a few days away. My daughter, Em, is coming with me, she lives with me since the relapse of her horrible illness, M.E. The disabling fatigue gives her only four hours a day of energy to cook, read, or listen to her favourite podcasts. The rest of the time she has to rest in bed, or on the sofa. I hope the fresh country air will do her good.
As usual, we switch on the TV as we arrive. There’s terrible news from Italy, where the Coronavirus death toll is rising rapidly but, thankfully, in Britain there’s still hardly any cases and the Prime Minister is taking the weekend off, it seems. So, no cause for panic…
But still, I checked the loo roll situation – 15 stacked up in the cupboard should be enough. I wonder why everyone is stockpiling loo rolls?
Is it a national obsession?
SUNDAY 15 MARCH
Sunshine!
I walk over to a barn which is full of souvenirs, old scripts and dusty photographs that
I have been meaning to sort, but somehow there was never the time.
I had booked a professional de-clutterer to help me. But she cancels – she has a new tickly cough…
So, it’s down to me. Can I spend this week on my own in the barn persuading myself to throw most of the stuff away? I’ll probably spend the time mulling over it, roaring with laughter or in floods of tears over the memories.
Radio Four ring and ask me about the plight of older people. I prepare myself by contacting AgeUK (The Silver Line has just linked up with AgeUK), and they tell me about the fantastic work of their volunteers, creating food
parcels for older people who can’t afford to stockpile, and inventing book clubs online, and streaming concerts.
Of course, when the moment comes I forget all that important stuff, and instead bang on about broadcasters inserting fun into our days with readings from PG Wodehouse…
MONDAY 16 MARCH
Oh Lord.
Ben, my lovely director, has woken with a fever, and decided to isolate himself.
I remember the hours we spent sharing the same taxi just three days ago.
Poor Ben. This news brings the virus straight to my door. I have hoped to isolate myself, but did I leave it too late?
I now examine every cough with scrupulous care; does it come up from my lungs, where the virus lurks, or from my nose, which drips all the time?
Then I stop because Phil and Holly on This Morning arrive on my Skype asking me to talk about the way isolation will affect older people.
I share with them an idea, that our national treasure Gareth Malone could create a virtual choir of shut-ins singing, as Vera Lynn did during the war, ‘ We’ll Meet Again, Don’t Know Where, Don’t Know When’.
It could happen. Would you believe,
The World at One are including readings from PG Wodehouse to cheer their listeners? Hooray!
BBC News are running a special virus programme, and publicise The Silver Line’s work by asking me about our callers.
I tell them that the older people we speak to are used to isolation. And from experience we know that the telephone is a wonderful way to stay in touch with humanity, with family and friends. Now is the time for older people to reach out for help – independence is a wonderful attribute of that generation, but it’s important to ask for support when we need it.
Two neighbours have offered to shop for me and Em. The stockpilers are horrible, but the hearts of gold still outnumber them.
TUESDAY 17 MARCH
The Prime Minister has said all of us very oldies, the over-70s, must socially distance ourselves, to prevent the NHS being swamped. For up to four months.
But how do we spend the hours usefully?
Theatres and cinemas are out, family parties are out, babysitting and playing with the grandchildren not possible any more. And my documentary is being postponed for three months.
I wonder if everything will be back to normal by then? Maybe now is the moment to write our own life stories, with photographs and drawings, for our grandchildren to enjoy, and hopefully to shock our children – there is no greater pleasure!
I ring my daughter, Becca, and ask her how my two grandsons are. They’re fine –thank heavens the virus actually doesn’t appear to affect children. How unbearable if it did.
I’m wondering if it would be wisest to stay in the country for the next four months?
One thing is certain. If we stay, I’ll run out of knickers. I suppose I can buy some online, I’ve never tried.
The newspapers have come up with a terrific idea to fight isolation, that we should put a note through a neighbour’s letter box with our phone number on it. There are good ideas everywhere. I ring my sister, and she tells me her local supermarkets have designated the first hour they open to older customers.
I cancel my 80th birthday party in June. Shame.
My son, the doctor, rings and I congratulate him on the crucial work of the NHS, but he says the real heroes are the nation’s delivery van drivers who get food and medication where it’s needed. Barry Cryer rings to tell me three jokes and says in his youth they didn’t bother with loo roll, they tore up newspapers instead. I laugh helplessly. At his grand old age ( he’s 84) he still sees it at his mission to cheer us all up. And that is heroic.
l The Silver Line 0800 4 70 80 90
I wonder why everyone is stockpiling loo rolls… is it a national obsession?