As things stand right now (Saturday 28 March), I would advise coronavirus caution when deciding whose opinion to take on board.

Speaking as a family who are currently self-isolating, the best policy is simply to follow Government guidelines, mixed with a bit of common sense.

I have a twin sister whose working life is as a London doctor, and her warnings come straight from the coalface of the pandemic. A five-minute phone conversation with her would make your hair stand on end, and sees me reaching for the soap, hand sanitiser and industrial disinfectant all at once.

That’s the trouble with this sort of invisible enemy

And yet, when you are far from the madding crowd and conversing with a neighbour from the tractor cab, the crisis feels like someone else’s disease. But half an hour later, I’m back in the house, shouting at my wife Susan through closed doors to see if there’s anything she needs.

That’s the trouble with this sort of invisible enemy: you must keep reminding yourself that it cannot be taken lightly.

Susan has developed flu-like symptoms, and because she also works in a hospital environment, has been told to stay at home and self-isolate.

Just today she has been tested for coronavirus (one of the drive-through procedures) but it will take about three days for the results to come through. Therefore, we are assuming she’s got it, and are trying to lead separate existences under one roof.

Novelty factor

I have to say that it’s not too hard for the first couple of days, and then the novelty factor wears off, and all those monotonous routines with hand wipes, separate dishes, etc, become a bit of a chore. I am being strict about giving her a wide berth because, irrespective of whether it is coronavirus or something less sinister, I cannot afford to be knocked off my feet at this time of year.

Shopping orders can easily be phoned, and plenty of people have been kind enough to deliver food

Friends and family are useful at the minute too. Shopping orders can easily be phoned, and plenty of people have been kind enough to deliver food and other items to our doorstep. Electronic bank transfers then take care of the money, without any chance of cross-contamination.

On the farming front, I have almost been self-isolating for five weeks now anyway, and this is more commonly known as “lambing”. Two houses of chicks arrived recently, and we just made sure that the lorry drivers and ourselves kept well apart. As long as I don’t succumb in the next few days, I think we’ll manage reasonably well in the short-term. After that, no one knows, so we’ll have to hope for the best.

Since then she has felt unwell, has a tightness in her chest and has lost the sense of taste and smell

For anyone interested, Susan’s symptoms did not include a persistent cough, or any sort of raging fever. She was doing the 6am feeding of pet lambs one morning and felt lousy.

I knew she wasn’t well by her physical appearance, so she stayed off work, then checked with the hospital to see what to do.

They immediately told her to self-isolate. Since then she has felt unwell, has a tightness in her chest and has lost the sense of taste and smell.

I don’t really understand how these viruses manage to select victims

This isn’t all bad, since the gentle aroma of unwashed shepherd and wet collie no longer triggers banishment from the sofa. When she glances through the window and asks if the dog stinks, I just sniff theatrically and say, “No dear, he’s fine”.

I don’t really understand how these viruses manage to select victims, but my farmer logic can’t help but wonder if the combination of Susan trying to attend to pet lambs, feed individual pens and clean out those same areas, as well as deal with the pressures of a busy work environment within the NHS, may have been a contributing factor.

Perhaps her immune system was slightly compromised, and her body not quite as able to robustly defend itself from attack.

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