And the good news is.....

“I think I might have become a manic depressive,” a sighing Long Suffering Husband said, as I continued to prance around the house, demonstrating to my daughter, who should have been at the Grand National, how to play Horse of the Year Show, complete with jumps and theme tune.
“Really? That’s fun,” I said between da da das. “Although I think you are meant to call it something else now.

The rollercoaster of emotions brought about by this current situation is the silver lining. Small things, that you would normally ignore suddenly become funny. I mean when else in history could you laugh hysterically at your son, emerging, bleary eyed from his bedroom (having spent two days working on three final year maths degree worksheets, without access to the usual library of resources and helpful tutors) because he said, “That’s the singular perturbation done.”

Some days you just feel really sad: you look at death tolls; Michael Gove appears on telly; you speak to a relative who is a nurse; Robert Peston tells you that you’ll have no money ever again; you read about the eighth woman to have been killed by her partner since lockdown; you talk to a friend who is grieving and alone.

Other days, the emotion is anger: you think about the people that died alone; you see a remote funeral on Facebook, attended by none of the relatives; Michael Gove appears on the telly; the BBC announces that the Chinese are using bear bile to treat COVID-19.

And then, my favourite days are when the emotions have tipped into hysteria: You suddenly have too much energy; you notice all the pretty buds appearing on the trees; life is good; nostalgia is king; Michael Gove is on the telly; perturbation sounds like a rude word; you give the NHS the clap.

I’m not sure the LSH has really experienced the upside yet. He is very affected by the daily death toll. As I was particularly high on life yesterday, I tried to help him.

Since this started, I have coped with my anxiety by reading.  I read the WHO reports and the ONS statistics. I try to get as close to the facts as I can and keep a perspective on it. This isn’t everybody’s method of coping and it seems to make some people more anxious or angry. If you are one of those people then turn away now, as I explain how I tried to make the LSH feel better about the daily death toll.

This is how the conversation went:
LSH: *sigh* They’ve released today’s deaths.
Me: Oh, have they? (I’d missed it because my daughter had spent the day looking for light and fluffy weekend stories for her paper and didn’t excitedly shout, “deaths are in.”)
LSH: They are worse than ever. So many people dead! 563!
Me: You do know that people die all the time, right?
LSH: Yes but I don’t normally have to know about it.
Me: I bet more than that usually die in a day and you don’t even think about them.
I logged onto the ONS website. https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/birthsdeathsandmarriages/deaths/bulletins/deathsregisteredweeklyinenglandandwalesprovisional/weekending20march2020
Me: Yes! So, last week 10,645 people died.
LSH: That sounds like a lot.
Me: Well, it’s 374 less deaths than last week.
LSH: How can that be? More people died.
Me: With Coronavirus but less people died of other things.
LSH: says nothing but does a wonderful goldfish impression.
Me: See, it’s good news.
LSH: 10,645 in a week? I’m never leaving the house again.