I think when I set out to come back to work I had it in mind that I would be able to continue the education of children. What I realise now is that education comes a distant second place to feeling secure and loved. Perhaps it's because I've never directly experienced any form of deprivation myself - except through my vicarious connection with such children I came into contact with during my career. I came from a secure and loving background - in common with most teachers from an aspirational and middle class background. I had always been expected to go to university and I obliged. We brought our own kids up with the same security and expectations.
But in what seems just like a matter of days this has been over-turned and I see from the children that I/we care for that education - in terms of learning subjects, skills etc - actually doesn't matter a damn if some of the basic building blocks aren't in place. When kids are going home by themselves to empty homes. When they have seen their parents die in front of their eyes; when they see violence on the streets; when bodies are left outside houses for collection; when a friend who they saw one day is dead the next. Children shouldn't see this - when I think back to watching news throughout my life from Africa, or Bangladesh, or any third world country I would reach for my purse and send in money - in fact we even sponsored a child in a village in Africa - how ironic is THAT! Third world has arrived - it's here in Edinburgh - but where are the relief agencies, the helicopters, the news teams? Just where the hell are they?!
So when someone said today that they were worried that children might not be able to read properly unless we kept them going with English I'm afraid I snapped (just a bit) and told them to take a look outside! Yet for all my outburst they were right - we have responsibility not to fail these children. For all that we are facing extremes we must remember that they are the future - not us - and that the skills, and normality which we took so much for granted - is also a basic right of every child.
Nevertheless, we must try to keep a perspective in this (hopefully) initial stage that the priority must be love and security. To that end we are trying to arrange foster care for those kids who have no one left at home. We only have one police officer left with us - the other became ill. Jennifer is a quite remarkable young woman - single handedly she has swept the houses in our immediate area and found four adults who she judged (completely by intuition) to be capable and safe to give some children a home. The rest have started to go home with members of their "family" - it's working already.
Our days are currently based around play; chatting; and more play. It just doesn't seem right to try to push learning at the moment - we have agreed to wait for the kids to decide.
Oh - the Deputy Head arrived - I'm sorry but I did defer to him (conditioning I suppose). He called everyone to a meeting in the Assembly Hall and set the chairs out in rows. He launched into a 30 minute sermon - most of which was about his experience and how he was going to save us - at the end he said that he would be setting up classes and a timetable because he believed that's what young people needed to provide security. Just as he started to give instructions to the kids they seemed to rise as one and left the Hall in their familes. Not a word was spoken - he screamed at them to sit down. He told me to tell them to sit down - I remained silent. He started swearing at me and the other adults telling us that we were a disgrace and that we had managed to brainwash them already. He stormed out telling us that he would take his expertise to a place where it would be valued - it was quite a performance.
The event was actually important for our community - for it proved one thing - we could work collectively and that we believed in each other. Libby and David told me later that they've never felt so powerful in all their lives. I almost wanted to thank him.
Thursday 31 January 2008
Wednesday 30 January 2008
Crocus
Crossing the Meadows this morning I noticed some orange crocuses pushing up beneath the trees. In the past this has always been sign that we are just about to enter Spring and escape from Winter. It's little memories like this that remind me that things will never be the same again.
We were joined by another 12 children this morning and one other adult, in addition to the 8 who had arrived yesterday we now have 60 kids. One other adult had joined us - another secondary teacher from a different school who had read about us on the emergency website. The morning get together proved even more important as we needed to share again our "rules". The families are still coming up with ideas about what we are going to do but we did agree that it still wasn't safe enough to go and visit local people's homes (as had been suggested). It's great to see the kids looking out - not in.
One thing which did emerge in the course of the day was that they wanted to see learning as something which wasn't just something they did in school and socialising something they just did out of school. They were very adamant that we need to "blur" (my word) the edges so that they "mixed up" (their word) the two to the point where you couldn't really tell the difference. I have to admit to being a little unclear how we might achieve this but at least we have an idea where we want to go.
It looks as if we have lots of IT expertise amongst the kids - they see this world as an extension of reality. They don't talk about on-line learning they just switch quite naturally from one enviroment to another. I suppose we need to let them take the lead on this but how do we decide upon what they learn - or am I trapped in my thinking from the past?
My worry is that I am starting to get stuck with lots of organisational details - who will make lunch?; when do we finish?; what do we do tomorrow?. I know that people will fall into that expectation that others will decide for them but I do so much want to try to avoid that old thinking. The one thing we do have is time. We need to use ot tpo get things right but above all else we need to do it "together".
My one concern is that I've just had a phone call from Deputy Head from another school. He has read about us and wants to come and lend his "leadership experience". I feel guilty that I'm even feeling like this but I'm worried that he will want to take over. Is that a bad thing - especially if he is experienced? It might be for the best.
We were joined by another 12 children this morning and one other adult, in addition to the 8 who had arrived yesterday we now have 60 kids. One other adult had joined us - another secondary teacher from a different school who had read about us on the emergency website. The morning get together proved even more important as we needed to share again our "rules". The families are still coming up with ideas about what we are going to do but we did agree that it still wasn't safe enough to go and visit local people's homes (as had been suggested). It's great to see the kids looking out - not in.
One thing which did emerge in the course of the day was that they wanted to see learning as something which wasn't just something they did in school and socialising something they just did out of school. They were very adamant that we need to "blur" (my word) the edges so that they "mixed up" (their word) the two to the point where you couldn't really tell the difference. I have to admit to being a little unclear how we might achieve this but at least we have an idea where we want to go.
It looks as if we have lots of IT expertise amongst the kids - they see this world as an extension of reality. They don't talk about on-line learning they just switch quite naturally from one enviroment to another. I suppose we need to let them take the lead on this but how do we decide upon what they learn - or am I trapped in my thinking from the past?
My worry is that I am starting to get stuck with lots of organisational details - who will make lunch?; when do we finish?; what do we do tomorrow?. I know that people will fall into that expectation that others will decide for them but I do so much want to try to avoid that old thinking. The one thing we do have is time. We need to use ot tpo get things right but above all else we need to do it "together".
My one concern is that I've just had a phone call from Deputy Head from another school. He has read about us and wants to come and lend his "leadership experience". I feel guilty that I'm even feeling like this but I'm worried that he will want to take over. Is that a bad thing - especially if he is experienced? It might be for the best.
Tuesday 29 January 2008
Families
I said last night that I would try to update on some of the key ideas which we came up with yesterday when trying to plan how our school will operate
I suppose the main part, which links with the "Space Rules", was the idea of families being at the core of what we will be trying to do. We had a fairly traumatic experience when one of the children said that they wanted the school to replace his family - he'd lost his mum and dad and two sisters (he was being looked after by a neighbour). This seemed to release a pent up reservoir of emotion as children and adults recounted their own personal stories. I was managing to hold myself together until David and Libby told their own story. Despite us having talked a lot about Graham and Kirsty it was only when they put everything into a chronological order and then added their feelings that I realised the depth of their loss. They had been so brave over the last two weeks and I had been so absorbed by my determination to take positive action that I think I had lost sight of what they had been going through.
The process wasn't just cathartic it bound us together in the realisation that we had all undergone a similar experience. The word which people kept using was family.
I suppose the main part, which links with the "Space Rules", was the idea of families being at the core of what we will be trying to do. We had a fairly traumatic experience when one of the children said that they wanted the school to replace his family - he'd lost his mum and dad and two sisters (he was being looked after by a neighbour). This seemed to release a pent up reservoir of emotion as children and adults recounted their own personal stories. I was managing to hold myself together until David and Libby told their own story. Despite us having talked a lot about Graham and Kirsty it was only when they put everything into a chronological order and then added their feelings that I realised the depth of their loss. They had been so brave over the last two weeks and I had been so absorbed by my determination to take positive action that I think I had lost sight of what they had been going through.
The process wasn't just cathartic it bound us together in the realisation that we had all undergone a similar experience. The word which people kept using was family.
It was Toby an 11 year old who perhaps summed it up most powerfully: "I want to belong to a family again. I want people to care about me and what I do. I want to care about other people".
As we tried to answer Toby (in fact it was the kids, not the adults who answered) the ideas of setting up our school around families became clearer and clearer. They wanted to create families, made up of kids of different ages, with an adult as a family member - not a leader. It would be the responsibility of everyone in the family to look after everyone else.
It seemed such a powerfully simple idea I couldn't understand why schools hadn't come up with the idea before (maybe they have but I'd never heard it). We didn't get much beyond that core idea but the family group would not grow beyond twelve people.
Most of today has been spent trying to shape this idea and identify the families and their make up. When we met at the end of the afternoon you could almost feel the warmth coming off the kids as at last they belonged - once again - to a family.
Monday 28 January 2008
Our School
Having never slept for a third night in a row my walk to work seemed more like a nightmare than dream. As we walked up to George Street the gale whipped the litter into a tornado. The rubbish hadn’t been collected for nearly three weeks – bags which had been tossed from windows lay burst open and Libby let out a scream when we saw a rat run across the pavement as we passed the National Gallery. In the Meadows there were tents and wigwams as people tried to separate themselves from the rest of the city.
We stayed in our tight group until we got to school but the sight that greeted us immediately lifted my spirits. Nearly forty children were waiting at the gate together with six adults – none of whom I’d ever met. The two police officers had keys to the school and led us into the assembly hall. After a moment’s awkward silence I stood up and asked everyone to introduce themselves – children and adults. The children ranged from 9-17 – only four of the new children had gone to this school. Two of them had walked from Portobello through Holyrood Park to get here –nearly six miles. Of the adults three were teachers, one secondary and two primary, together with a retired social worker, and two parents who had come along with their children.
I explained that we would be trying to help continue the children’s education but also provide care and support for them and their families. I repeated my point about this being a new reality and that we must think about our new school in a very different way from how we had known schools in the past. It maybe seemed a bit “new age” but we sat in a circle for nearly two hours trying to work out how we could organise ourselves. I was amazed with the ideas which streamed from the kids – it was as if a cork had been released as idea after idea flowed and was picked up and added to by others in the group. We adults realised what was happening by remaining silent – something I’d never experienced before. I won’t try to capture here all the incredible ideas that we recorded but we wrote them up on a whiteboard. Perhaps the most important part were what the kids called “space rules” it was as if we were creating a virtual world within our new reality.
There were six “Space Rules”:
We all have an equal say in how the school runs
Our health and safety are the most important things in our school
There are to be no classes
Individuals design their own timetable
Adults help but don’t direct
We care for each other
I couldn’t believe how quickly they adapted to the new reality – it was almost as if they had been preparing for this moment all their lives. It’s not as if they tried to cut us adults out – merely that they wanted to use us in a very different way.
The only difficulty I had with the discussion was when they described the sanctions for not following the “space rules”. If it had been adults we might have been a bit softer but the group were unanimous that if health and safety were to be protected that any breaking of the rules would result in that person being asked to leave – adult or child. Their logic was impeccable – “We are choosing to come here, no one is being forced, if we choose to belong we must follow the rules”.
For the rest of the day we split up into groups to develop some of the ideas further and to explore the school. One group took responsibility to make lunch and made a wonderful pasta dish.
It seemed that everyone looked to me for leadership but I took my lead from them by making sure that we acted democratically. I remember reading A.S Neill’s book when I’d been student and although I’d thought it to be a bit laissez faire it provided me with useful template with which to shape my behaviour.
Mike Harper was true to his word and visited us in the late afternoon. He thanked us all for getting it started and suggested we could have even more people turning up tomorrow.
I phoned Alison to let her know how we were doing but she refused to speak to me.
It’s the evening now and David, Libby and Stephanie are all sleeping in front of the fire. I can’t describe how good it feels to have them round me in the knowledge that we have done something today for other people.
I’ll update tomorrow with more of our arrangements – particularly how we intend to start to help people in our communities, which was a key part of what the kids wanted.
Sunday 27 January 2008
Ready?
Over the course of today I've become more prepared for tomorrow. Mike Harper phoned at tea time to tell me that they had had some contact from the public about the school opening. He wasn't sure how many people might turn up but he was sending two officers and would try to get there himself later in the day. It's just struck me - has he recovered from "it" or is he just doing his job? It's come to this that we start to judge somebody to be brave just for turning up to work.
Part of me is excited about tomorrow and the other 80% is racked with fear. Last week I was just looking after my own kids and a couple of others. Who knows how many will turn up? Will I be able to control them? No - that's old thinking! I mustn't think about control. Whatever else I'm going to do tomorrow it's not going to be a diluted version of how we did things before. As I've said before reality has changed and so must how we educate and nurture our children. I must keep this to the front of my mind and not fall back on old habits.
I just hope I can get a good night's sleep.
Part of me is excited about tomorrow and the other 80% is racked with fear. Last week I was just looking after my own kids and a couple of others. Who knows how many will turn up? Will I be able to control them? No - that's old thinking! I mustn't think about control. Whatever else I'm going to do tomorrow it's not going to be a diluted version of how we did things before. As I've said before reality has changed and so must how we educate and nurture our children. I must keep this to the front of my mind and not fall back on old habits.
I just hope I can get a good night's sleep.
An invitation
We had a visit after lunch from a Police Superintendent. Mike Harper explained that he had received a report from his officers about yesterday's incident at the school. Given the circumstances they would be carrying out an investigation but only once this crisis has passed. He explained that a number of officers had been armed to counter the growing breakdown in law and order - particularly amongst groups of young people who have been less affected by "it".
It is apparently a recurring pattern across the world and a decision was taken at national level to arm police for the duration. Mike explained that the council's emergency group - which has been badly hit by absences and illness - were trying to put support services together for young people specifically. They were interested in what I had been trying to do in school by setting up something for children who had recovered from "it". He asked me of I would be willing to work with the police and what remained of the education and social work services to provide a day centre for education and support in our area. He had authority to move us into the main school building and to provide a secure environment for learning and care. If it worked we would be used as a model for other areas. If I was willing to help the "school" would start tomorrow and would be publicised on the web and local radio and TV, with an open invitation to other (post-viral) teachers, social workers and adults to come and help.
I tried to clarify who would be leading this and he made it clear that this was a partnership activity where we would have to work together. I didn't really have to give it any thought and accepted immediately.
When he left the house half an hour ago I completely broke down - it's this roller coaster from one day to the next which I'm finding so difficult to come to terms with.
Having settled down a bit the next emotion I'm having to deal with is a crisis of confidence - can I make this work?
It is apparently a recurring pattern across the world and a decision was taken at national level to arm police for the duration. Mike explained that the council's emergency group - which has been badly hit by absences and illness - were trying to put support services together for young people specifically. They were interested in what I had been trying to do in school by setting up something for children who had recovered from "it". He asked me of I would be willing to work with the police and what remained of the education and social work services to provide a day centre for education and support in our area. He had authority to move us into the main school building and to provide a secure environment for learning and care. If it worked we would be used as a model for other areas. If I was willing to help the "school" would start tomorrow and would be publicised on the web and local radio and TV, with an open invitation to other (post-viral) teachers, social workers and adults to come and help.
I tried to clarify who would be leading this and he made it clear that this was a partnership activity where we would have to work together. I didn't really have to give it any thought and accepted immediately.
When he left the house half an hour ago I completely broke down - it's this roller coaster from one day to the next which I'm finding so difficult to come to terms with.
Having settled down a bit the next emotion I'm having to deal with is a crisis of confidence - can I make this work?
When you're down....
I can't sleep. Things seem to be piling up. Yesterday seemed to take my feet away from me and the fact that the kids experienced the same thing means that I can't just pretend it didn't happen.
Another body blow has been that I haven't received my January pay. As it happens it won't cause us a problem this month but I can't help thinking of some of my colleagues for whom this could be the last straw.
The other factor has been the overwhelming negativity I experienced as a result of my phone calls to staff. I would say 10% were quite happy to hear from me but where I got a response from the rest it centred around guidance from unions and the fact that McCrone (Scottish conditions of service agreement) suggest that they can work from home. They still don't get it - things will never be the same again. There won't even be such a thing as conditions of service!
I had two phone calls to my house which have been quite abusive from colleagues who wanted to let me know how much their calls had offended them.
But above all else I can't get Sandy Robertson out of my head - if I hadn't called he would still be alive. I know some of you think I should stop interfering. The reality is that reality has changed and we need to dramatically come to terms with that - and I include myself in that!
Another body blow has been that I haven't received my January pay. As it happens it won't cause us a problem this month but I can't help thinking of some of my colleagues for whom this could be the last straw.
The other factor has been the overwhelming negativity I experienced as a result of my phone calls to staff. I would say 10% were quite happy to hear from me but where I got a response from the rest it centred around guidance from unions and the fact that McCrone (Scottish conditions of service agreement) suggest that they can work from home. They still don't get it - things will never be the same again. There won't even be such a thing as conditions of service!
I had two phone calls to my house which have been quite abusive from colleagues who wanted to let me know how much their calls had offended them.
But above all else I can't get Sandy Robertson out of my head - if I hadn't called he would still be alive. I know some of you think I should stop interfering. The reality is that reality has changed and we need to dramatically come to terms with that - and I include myself in that!
Friday 25 January 2008
Sandy Robertson
The five of us arrived at school this morning to find another two pupils wanting to join us. What took me even more by surprise was the fact that one of my colleagues was also waiting at the door. Sandy, was a Biology teacher who I had called earlier in the week at home. He said that my call had been the first contact he'd had with the outside world since this thing had started and he had become ill. The fact that I had called had been a deciding factor in getting him to come in today. I have to admit to feeling immensely pleased that at least one of my calls had paid off - we were even using his room!
As had been the case yesterday we started off by just making tea and chatting. Just before 10.30am there was immense crash as one of the windows caved in. Outside a group of about six boys were gathered. I knew some of them by sight although at least a couple were strangers. Aged between 13 and 17 they were almost feral in their appearance and behaviour. They were only interested in getting the girls to come down. I couldn't believe it, after all the tragedy that people were experiencing and which had no doubt impacted upon them that all they could think about was girls. But this wasn't the friendly cat-calling and chatting-up that might have been the case a few weeks ago - this was much more menacing. They were battering on the door and pulled a metal fence post out of the ground to try to lever it open. I phoned the police not expecting any answer so was surprised when someone replied after three rings. I gave our address and explained the situation - they were on their way. Sandy made his way downstairs and told us to barricade the door.
As we watched from the window we saw Sandy trying to push them back through the broken door with a table leg. It seemed to hold them at bay for a few minutes but then one of them got a hold of his arm and he was pulled through the window. I've never witnessed such violence but couldn't bring myself to look away as they kicked and jumped on his head. Was this all my fault?
We heard the siren before we saw the car but the boys didn't seem to pay any attention. It was quite obvious that Sandy was no longer conscious yet they continued to kick and stamp- taking turns as they got tired. A solitary policeman jumped out of his car and shouted a warning but the group ignored him and carried on with their frenzied attack. I was suprised when he drew a gun from his holster, he shouted another warning then fired a shot over the boys' heads but still no effect. The oldest and biggest of the boys started to walk towards him with the table leg he had taken from Sandy. The policeman, who didn't seem to look much older than the boy, fired another shot over his head - the boy just laughed - then, in what seemed like slow motion, I saw the boy drop to the ground almost before I heard the second shot. What the hell was happening? In three weeks we had been reduced to this?!
I'm afraid that as I write this up tonight I'm completely broken. My hopes of yesterday have vanished and I wonder if we shouldn't just lock our flat door and wait at home like everyone else.
Perhaps "it" will win after all,
As had been the case yesterday we started off by just making tea and chatting. Just before 10.30am there was immense crash as one of the windows caved in. Outside a group of about six boys were gathered. I knew some of them by sight although at least a couple were strangers. Aged between 13 and 17 they were almost feral in their appearance and behaviour. They were only interested in getting the girls to come down. I couldn't believe it, after all the tragedy that people were experiencing and which had no doubt impacted upon them that all they could think about was girls. But this wasn't the friendly cat-calling and chatting-up that might have been the case a few weeks ago - this was much more menacing. They were battering on the door and pulled a metal fence post out of the ground to try to lever it open. I phoned the police not expecting any answer so was surprised when someone replied after three rings. I gave our address and explained the situation - they were on their way. Sandy made his way downstairs and told us to barricade the door.
As we watched from the window we saw Sandy trying to push them back through the broken door with a table leg. It seemed to hold them at bay for a few minutes but then one of them got a hold of his arm and he was pulled through the window. I've never witnessed such violence but couldn't bring myself to look away as they kicked and jumped on his head. Was this all my fault?
We heard the siren before we saw the car but the boys didn't seem to pay any attention. It was quite obvious that Sandy was no longer conscious yet they continued to kick and stamp- taking turns as they got tired. A solitary policeman jumped out of his car and shouted a warning but the group ignored him and carried on with their frenzied attack. I was suprised when he drew a gun from his holster, he shouted another warning then fired a shot over the boys' heads but still no effect. The oldest and biggest of the boys started to walk towards him with the table leg he had taken from Sandy. The policeman, who didn't seem to look much older than the boy, fired another shot over his head - the boy just laughed - then, in what seemed like slow motion, I saw the boy drop to the ground almost before I heard the second shot. What the hell was happening? In three weeks we had been reduced to this?!
I'm afraid that as I write this up tonight I'm completely broken. My hopes of yesterday have vanished and I wonder if we shouldn't just lock our flat door and wait at home like everyone else.
Perhaps "it" will win after all,
Thursday 24 January 2008
"Let us learn"
When we got to school this morning we were joined by Julie, who Stephanie had called the night before. I don’t know why but I had given no thought to what the kids were going to do for the day – there had been such excitement the night before that it had never occurred to me that it was up to me. The first couple of hours passed quickly as the kids spent the time getting to know each other. Julie was 16 and David was obviously smitten at first sight.
I spent this time completing my last phone calls to staff and then started to enter my handwritten notes onto a database. In the middle of the morning Libby came to me and said they wanted to learn something. They felt that if they were coming to school they should be learning. It was strange request and not one that I had ever encountered in my 24 years of teaching. It wasn’t that they were asking to be taught, just allowed to learn. They all gathered round me expecting me to come up with something inspirational. Imagination has never been a strength so I immediately threw it back to them. They argued for while and then Julie came up with something quite brilliant. “I’d like to turn salt water into drinking water”. She didn’t take science and thought it would be fun to work out how to do it. I was so proud of David when he described the process of water distillation – I didn’t have clue how to do it so simply joined in as one of the group.
They scavenged round the lab and collected the necessary equipment: tubing; stands, clamps, bottles, etc. Having never done this before I tried to stay out of it but I was of some use by asking questions when we seemed to get stuck. It took us nearly three hours to get it right but the sense of achievement we all felt later that afternoon as we drank the distilled water was something I’ll never forget.
Perhaps we can get through this?
I spent this time completing my last phone calls to staff and then started to enter my handwritten notes onto a database. In the middle of the morning Libby came to me and said they wanted to learn something. They felt that if they were coming to school they should be learning. It was strange request and not one that I had ever encountered in my 24 years of teaching. It wasn’t that they were asking to be taught, just allowed to learn. They all gathered round me expecting me to come up with something inspirational. Imagination has never been a strength so I immediately threw it back to them. They argued for while and then Julie came up with something quite brilliant. “I’d like to turn salt water into drinking water”. She didn’t take science and thought it would be fun to work out how to do it. I was so proud of David when he described the process of water distillation – I didn’t have clue how to do it so simply joined in as one of the group.
They scavenged round the lab and collected the necessary equipment: tubing; stands, clamps, bottles, etc. Having never done this before I tried to stay out of it but I was of some use by asking questions when we seemed to get stuck. It took us nearly three hours to get it right but the sense of achievement we all felt later that afternoon as we drank the distilled water was something I’ll never forget.
Perhaps we can get through this?
Wednesday 23 January 2008
Isolation
Last night had been the first time I’d heard laughter in the house since the New Year. Just having the chance to speak to another teenager face-to-face seemed to lift the twins. I came under real pressure from both David and Libby to let them come to school with me this morning – they go to another school (that sounds so ridiculous). I didn’t think I could push this at the moment given my bust up with Bob and Colin over Stephanie. I agreed that Stephanie could stay at home with the twins for the day while she tried to contact her aunts and uncle who live in England.
I’m definitely getting better, the dull headache that I’ve had since the weekend has lifted and I felt much more like myself – at least physically.
I’d spoken to my mum last night and she is still managing for herself – some woman! I told her that once I get some petrol I’ll be out to see her. I tried again to contact Graham’s mum’s residential home but it just rang out. I phoned her local council this morning but once again got no reply.
Once I got into school we all met up in the staffroom to make some decisions. Bob wasn’t there. He wasn’t answering his phone. Had I passed something on?
No-one felt comfortable to take the lead. Despite there being two Principal Teachers it was left to me to start things off – delegated roles don’t seem to mean as much in this world. I wanted to speak about Stephanie and what we should do for her. Colin was much more subdued than he had been yesterday and but he just repeated and repeated the guidance from the news and the local authority that all schools were closed to pupils to prevent infection. I’ve read all the guidance and I understand the reason for closing schools but what about children who have had the virus and recovered? Do we have to shut them out. I was accused of being totally self-centred just because I’d had “it” whereas none of the others had been infected. There was deep undercurrent of accusation running through the whole debate – I was a risk!
Once again from somewhere deep within I refused to back down – twice in two days! But even Alison who had been remarkably supportive of me up to this point thought we should keep kids out of school and that if I wasn’t happy with that that I should stay at home. Bob’s absence must have really unsettled her.
But I just kept thinking about Stephanie and all the other kids who might be out there just like her. Compromise – my greatest suit – came to my rescue when I suggested that we divide the school into two sections, the main school and a post-infection area for those kids and staff who had recovered from the virus. I immediately regretted suggesting the idea as soon as the words left my lips. Images of Animal Farm and Lord of the Flies flashed across my mind – we should be staying together not dividing ourselves. Too late to pull them back, as Alison particularly jumped at the idea. Before we could discuss anything else it was decided that I should take over the annexe area and that we could keep in contact via the phone. “It” had won again.
I moved out straight away – no hand shakes, no farewells.
In the annexe – which was absolutely freezing - I set up my base in a science room. I put on every Bunsen burner and for the rest of the day continued making my phone calls to staff.
Back home this evening we have all decided that we will go to school tomorrow. Stephanie has been in touch with a friend from school whose parents and sister had died. She had a mild infection at the same time and was now alone. I phoned her and invited her to join us tomorrow.
I can’t believe how excited the kids are – there is hope.
I’m definitely getting better, the dull headache that I’ve had since the weekend has lifted and I felt much more like myself – at least physically.
I’d spoken to my mum last night and she is still managing for herself – some woman! I told her that once I get some petrol I’ll be out to see her. I tried again to contact Graham’s mum’s residential home but it just rang out. I phoned her local council this morning but once again got no reply.
Once I got into school we all met up in the staffroom to make some decisions. Bob wasn’t there. He wasn’t answering his phone. Had I passed something on?
No-one felt comfortable to take the lead. Despite there being two Principal Teachers it was left to me to start things off – delegated roles don’t seem to mean as much in this world. I wanted to speak about Stephanie and what we should do for her. Colin was much more subdued than he had been yesterday and but he just repeated and repeated the guidance from the news and the local authority that all schools were closed to pupils to prevent infection. I’ve read all the guidance and I understand the reason for closing schools but what about children who have had the virus and recovered? Do we have to shut them out. I was accused of being totally self-centred just because I’d had “it” whereas none of the others had been infected. There was deep undercurrent of accusation running through the whole debate – I was a risk!
Once again from somewhere deep within I refused to back down – twice in two days! But even Alison who had been remarkably supportive of me up to this point thought we should keep kids out of school and that if I wasn’t happy with that that I should stay at home. Bob’s absence must have really unsettled her.
But I just kept thinking about Stephanie and all the other kids who might be out there just like her. Compromise – my greatest suit – came to my rescue when I suggested that we divide the school into two sections, the main school and a post-infection area for those kids and staff who had recovered from the virus. I immediately regretted suggesting the idea as soon as the words left my lips. Images of Animal Farm and Lord of the Flies flashed across my mind – we should be staying together not dividing ourselves. Too late to pull them back, as Alison particularly jumped at the idea. Before we could discuss anything else it was decided that I should take over the annexe area and that we could keep in contact via the phone. “It” had won again.
I moved out straight away – no hand shakes, no farewells.
In the annexe – which was absolutely freezing - I set up my base in a science room. I put on every Bunsen burner and for the rest of the day continued making my phone calls to staff.
Back home this evening we have all decided that we will go to school tomorrow. Stephanie has been in touch with a friend from school whose parents and sister had died. She had a mild infection at the same time and was now alone. I phoned her and invited her to join us tomorrow.
I can’t believe how excited the kids are – there is hope.
Tuesday 22 January 2008
Child protection
We all talked last night about my need to go to work. I knew the twins were supportive of me going back but I was surprised by how adamant they were about my returning. I think part of it has to do with their own frustration about having been locked inside the house for nearly three weeks. They crave some sense of normality, some reconnection with their world. The web has been some help but they have both come to realise the need for company and semblance of structure to their day. David in particular has never been that keen on school but he needs some other outlet other than his Bebo site, his sister and his mum.
These thoughts were still on my mind when I got to school. The walk hadn’t been any easier but I was surprised when I met Stephanie, one of my favourite 4T class waiting at the school gates. She had seen me come in the day before from her flat across the street and had been planning all night to intercept me this morning. Without thinking I invited her into school and took her up to my room. As I shut the door behind us she broke down completely. Her mum, dad and granny had all died in the last few days. She was the only one of the family who had survived “it” and had called 999. I shivered when she described how the army had arrived and removed the bodies. They had taken her name and said that someone would be in touch but she hadn’t heard from anyone in since they were taken away last Friday.
I held her in my arms (this was child protection) until she began to calm down. I went to get her a cup of tea and a biscuit from the staffroom when I bumped into Bob. He had seen her come into school with me and completely lost it with me. “What is she doing in school- you know the school is closed to kids!” Colin came in and joined in. I don’t know how or why but for one of the few times in my life I didn’t concede or try to find a middle way. I told them both to “f**k off and take a look at what was happening to the world” and they wanted to stop an innocent and abandoned child from accessing one of the few things in her life to which she had any remaining ties.
Stephanie waited the rest of the day in my room while I continued to make the phone calls to staff.
We had another meeting at the end of the afternoon and both Bob and Colin apologised. I didn’t reply. We shared our information and agreed that we would meet again tomorrow morning to decide upon our next steps. Stephanie was never mentioned.
I know I shouldn’t have done this but I brought Stephanie home with me. She’s asleep in Kirsty’s room.
Graham I miss you!!
These thoughts were still on my mind when I got to school. The walk hadn’t been any easier but I was surprised when I met Stephanie, one of my favourite 4T class waiting at the school gates. She had seen me come in the day before from her flat across the street and had been planning all night to intercept me this morning. Without thinking I invited her into school and took her up to my room. As I shut the door behind us she broke down completely. Her mum, dad and granny had all died in the last few days. She was the only one of the family who had survived “it” and had called 999. I shivered when she described how the army had arrived and removed the bodies. They had taken her name and said that someone would be in touch but she hadn’t heard from anyone in since they were taken away last Friday.
I held her in my arms (this was child protection) until she began to calm down. I went to get her a cup of tea and a biscuit from the staffroom when I bumped into Bob. He had seen her come into school with me and completely lost it with me. “What is she doing in school- you know the school is closed to kids!” Colin came in and joined in. I don’t know how or why but for one of the few times in my life I didn’t concede or try to find a middle way. I told them both to “f**k off and take a look at what was happening to the world” and they wanted to stop an innocent and abandoned child from accessing one of the few things in her life to which she had any remaining ties.
Stephanie waited the rest of the day in my room while I continued to make the phone calls to staff.
We had another meeting at the end of the afternoon and both Bob and Colin apologised. I didn’t reply. We shared our information and agreed that we would meet again tomorrow morning to decide upon our next steps. Stephanie was never mentioned.
I know I shouldn’t have done this but I brought Stephanie home with me. She’s asleep in Kirsty’s room.
Graham I miss you!!
Monday 21 January 2008
Bathtime
I feel guilty, I’m exhausted and the exhilaration that I felt when I got home has evaporated.
I had a bath after tea and sat and cried for the best part of an hour. It had been the same when my dad had died, during the day I would be brave but simply by stripping off I seemed to expose myself and it would really hit home.
The kids have been chatting with their pals on Bebo and Facebook – it’s by far the best way of gaining a picture about what’s happening. Many of the official websites aren’t being properly updated – absences I suppose – and I can’t help but feel that the news is censored in some way. They are exhorting people to go to work but everyone knows that no-one is – "so why should I?" - seems to be the attitude.
I’m not sure of I can go in tomorrow but it’s the only way that I can overcome this terrible sense of helplessness.
I had a bath after tea and sat and cried for the best part of an hour. It had been the same when my dad had died, during the day I would be brave but simply by stripping off I seemed to expose myself and it would really hit home.
The kids have been chatting with their pals on Bebo and Facebook – it’s by far the best way of gaining a picture about what’s happening. Many of the official websites aren’t being properly updated – absences I suppose – and I can’t help but feel that the news is censored in some way. They are exhorting people to go to work but everyone knows that no-one is – "so why should I?" - seems to be the attitude.
I’m not sure of I can go in tomorrow but it’s the only way that I can overcome this terrible sense of helplessness.
Going back
Having made sure the twins were going to be well enough to look after themselves I set off to walk to school. I had thought the three-mile walk wouldn’t be too bad but I badly miscalculated how weak I had become. I stopped on a number of occasions and almost thought about turning back but I wasn’t going to let “it” win again. The streets were nearly empty and I seemed to be one of the few who was making their way to work.
The school seemed closed when I got there but I saw Alison waving at me from her classroom. She came down and let me in (apparently someone had broken into the school last week and ransacked the kitchen). There were six other members of staff, including Alison and myself at work. We gathered in the staffroom still wearing our coats as the heating had been off for nearly a week - everyone wore masks. Our Group included Alison, Principal Teacher of Religious and Moral Education; Bob, a Craft and Design Teacher; Colin, a physics teacher; Russell, a Maths teacher; Rosemary, a Learning Support assistant; Cathie, a Principal Teacher of Home Economics; and myself, a teacher of Religious and Moral Education, there was one other teacher in the school, but Veronica, a Chemistry teacher refused to come out of her classroom. Bob the senior janitor was at school but the other two had refused to come into work. Of all the staff who were there I was the only one who had kids – and the only one who had had “it”.
The Council’s e-mail system had crashed two weeks ago and there had been no contact since that time. We sat there in silence – no one wanting to take charge. Eventually I suggested we try to find a way of communicating with our pupils and teachers at home and find some way of putting them in touch with each other. It was a basic admin’ task and it gave us something to do.
I volunteered to phone every teacher and member of staff and try to find out how they were and to tell them what we were doing. We had decided that we shouldn’t try to pressurise anyone to return to work but that we would keep them up to speed with what we were doing and give them a chance to help from home.
Alison kept trying to phone the education department but couldn’t get anyone to answer the phone. Colin was asked to call of our primary schools and Cathie to call our neighbouring secondary schools.
By the end of the day we had made contact with some of the schools – but most did not answer. My phone calls to staff had not been a success. Of those who did answer many were ill, or caring for ill relatives. I kept a list and it seemed that 15 teachers and other staff had died so far, including Mr Docherty. Quite a few of my colleagues had taken exception to being contacted at home and told me to leave them alone. People want nothing to do with the outside world.
At least we had made a start and at our meeting at the end of the day it was left to me to sum up and set out our plans for the next day. Alison still had petrol in her car and she gave me a lift back to the house. It felt good to have done something to fight back.
The school seemed closed when I got there but I saw Alison waving at me from her classroom. She came down and let me in (apparently someone had broken into the school last week and ransacked the kitchen). There were six other members of staff, including Alison and myself at work. We gathered in the staffroom still wearing our coats as the heating had been off for nearly a week - everyone wore masks. Our Group included Alison, Principal Teacher of Religious and Moral Education; Bob, a Craft and Design Teacher; Colin, a physics teacher; Russell, a Maths teacher; Rosemary, a Learning Support assistant; Cathie, a Principal Teacher of Home Economics; and myself, a teacher of Religious and Moral Education, there was one other teacher in the school, but Veronica, a Chemistry teacher refused to come out of her classroom. Bob the senior janitor was at school but the other two had refused to come into work. Of all the staff who were there I was the only one who had kids – and the only one who had had “it”.
The Council’s e-mail system had crashed two weeks ago and there had been no contact since that time. We sat there in silence – no one wanting to take charge. Eventually I suggested we try to find a way of communicating with our pupils and teachers at home and find some way of putting them in touch with each other. It was a basic admin’ task and it gave us something to do.
I volunteered to phone every teacher and member of staff and try to find out how they were and to tell them what we were doing. We had decided that we shouldn’t try to pressurise anyone to return to work but that we would keep them up to speed with what we were doing and give them a chance to help from home.
Alison kept trying to phone the education department but couldn’t get anyone to answer the phone. Colin was asked to call of our primary schools and Cathie to call our neighbouring secondary schools.
By the end of the day we had made contact with some of the schools – but most did not answer. My phone calls to staff had not been a success. Of those who did answer many were ill, or caring for ill relatives. I kept a list and it seemed that 15 teachers and other staff had died so far, including Mr Docherty. Quite a few of my colleagues had taken exception to being contacted at home and told me to leave them alone. People want nothing to do with the outside world.
At least we had made a start and at our meeting at the end of the day it was left to me to sum up and set out our plans for the next day. Alison still had petrol in her car and she gave me a lift back to the house. It felt good to have done something to fight back.
Sunday 20 January 2008
Together
David and Libby are getting better. Their fevers are reducing and they even managed to eat some toast this morning. The feeling of togetherness against a common enemy has been a powerful source of strength.
We spoke late into the night about Dad and Kirsty. David was incredibly close to his father. They both shared a passion for football and he wanted to talk about Graham, while Libby was content just to listen. Despite their illness they seemed to be taking charge and keeping me going.
We've always loved living in the New Town yet earlier in our lives had often talked about moving out to somewhere like Barnton or Trinity to get a house with a garden but neither of us could ever bring ourselves to leave the city centre. Everything is on your doorstep - galleries, restaurants, theatres, shops - so we just stayed, even after the twins were born. Yet this wonderful house, this home, has become a prison. Wherever I look I see Graham. The photographs, the paintings, the clutter he left in his wake. There's even a pile of his discarded clothes lying beside our bed - I used to nag him about never tidying up. I keep expecting him to appear in the doorway or to be in a room when I enter. I even thought I heard his voice this morning from the kitchen but when I rushed through it was just the radio. This thing has stolen him. Poisoned our home. Infected our lives. Stolen our memories.
We spoke late into the night about Dad and Kirsty. David was incredibly close to his father. They both shared a passion for football and he wanted to talk about Graham, while Libby was content just to listen. Despite their illness they seemed to be taking charge and keeping me going.
We've always loved living in the New Town yet earlier in our lives had often talked about moving out to somewhere like Barnton or Trinity to get a house with a garden but neither of us could ever bring ourselves to leave the city centre. Everything is on your doorstep - galleries, restaurants, theatres, shops - so we just stayed, even after the twins were born. Yet this wonderful house, this home, has become a prison. Wherever I look I see Graham. The photographs, the paintings, the clutter he left in his wake. There's even a pile of his discarded clothes lying beside our bed - I used to nag him about never tidying up. I keep expecting him to appear in the doorway or to be in a room when I enter. I even thought I heard his voice this morning from the kitchen but when I rushed through it was just the radio. This thing has stolen him. Poisoned our home. Infected our lives. Stolen our memories.
Expected to work
I received a letter from my teachers' union national office. It had been posted nearly two weeks ago just when the outbreak was starting. It referred to the Planning for Human Flu Pandemic - Guidance for Schools and made specific mention of section 2.9. about the closure of schools:
2.9 ..........In this context, 'closure' means closure to pupils; staff who are not ill would still be expected to come to work. Agreed arrangements whereby staff may be temporarily transferred to other schools or services to aid or maintain operational capacity should also be considered.
The union (of which I'm our school rep') were strongly urging staff not to go work. If the schools are closed to pupils they should be closed to everyone to prevent the spread of infection and to protect the health of teachers. The union was offering to support any member who was threatened with disciplinary action for not going to work during these exceptional circumstances. It went on to argue that as the Government had not put any plans in place to support remote learning (BBC Jam had folded in March '07) and that teachers could not be held responsible for any significant disruption to children's learning.
Reading this two weeks later with the knowledge of what's happening I can't help thinking that this advice was written in another time, almost another dimension. Why shouldn't we go to work? What if the petrol tanker drivers, the doctors, the shopkeepers, the electricity workers.....the undertakers all decided that they should stay at home to protect their own health? We've gone so far past the old lines of contracts and conditions of service that we need to re-think how we behave.
I phoned Alison and she had received the same letter a couple of days ago. There were only six teachers in the school on Friday and three of them said they weren't coming in on Monday. No-one is checking who's in or absent and the link with the authority is non-existent.
In the past, the old me, would probably have gone along with all this, but I've changed. I'm angry that this thing, this tiny virus, has reduced us to quivering wrecks who simply retreat to our homes and submit to its will.
We can't let it win.
2.9 ..........In this context, 'closure' means closure to pupils; staff who are not ill would still be expected to come to work. Agreed arrangements whereby staff may be temporarily transferred to other schools or services to aid or maintain operational capacity should also be considered.
The union (of which I'm our school rep') were strongly urging staff not to go work. If the schools are closed to pupils they should be closed to everyone to prevent the spread of infection and to protect the health of teachers. The union was offering to support any member who was threatened with disciplinary action for not going to work during these exceptional circumstances. It went on to argue that as the Government had not put any plans in place to support remote learning (BBC Jam had folded in March '07) and that teachers could not be held responsible for any significant disruption to children's learning.
Reading this two weeks later with the knowledge of what's happening I can't help thinking that this advice was written in another time, almost another dimension. Why shouldn't we go to work? What if the petrol tanker drivers, the doctors, the shopkeepers, the electricity workers.....the undertakers all decided that they should stay at home to protect their own health? We've gone so far past the old lines of contracts and conditions of service that we need to re-think how we behave.
I phoned Alison and she had received the same letter a couple of days ago. There were only six teachers in the school on Friday and three of them said they weren't coming in on Monday. No-one is checking who's in or absent and the link with the authority is non-existent.
In the past, the old me, would probably have gone along with all this, but I've changed. I'm angry that this thing, this tiny virus, has reduced us to quivering wrecks who simply retreat to our homes and submit to its will.
We can't let it win.
Saturday 19 January 2008
Fear
I've been trying to work out why we seem to be reacting to this pandemic so differently from our forebears in 1918.
According to the news the absentee rate from work is running near 70%. They had anticipated 30%. The streets are empty, no one uses public transport and people are scared to go to work. I suppose in 1918 everyone was much more familiar with death. The First World War, lack of scientific health care, child birth complications and living conditions must have meant that death was something which was an ever present in people's lives.
I'm not claiming to be different from anyone else, until last week I had never seen an actual dead body. Now I've seen two - my daughter and my husband. I'm changing and I'm beginning to understand what it might have been like 90 years ago.
But it's this fear of death which seems to causing such fear. In our society we have become used to medicine fixing problems. If I am ill I go to the doctor and I am healed - it's just the way it happens. Except now it's different and we can't adjust.
People are just locking themselves in their houses and hoping to ride this thing out. As if by ignoring it it will go away.
Having just come through the last two weeks I know we will never be the same again, and that society will probably never be the same again. This is not something which you can avoid by shutting your door.
I've just realised something - I'm not scared anymore.
According to the news the absentee rate from work is running near 70%. They had anticipated 30%. The streets are empty, no one uses public transport and people are scared to go to work. I suppose in 1918 everyone was much more familiar with death. The First World War, lack of scientific health care, child birth complications and living conditions must have meant that death was something which was an ever present in people's lives.
I'm not claiming to be different from anyone else, until last week I had never seen an actual dead body. Now I've seen two - my daughter and my husband. I'm changing and I'm beginning to understand what it might have been like 90 years ago.
But it's this fear of death which seems to causing such fear. In our society we have become used to medicine fixing problems. If I am ill I go to the doctor and I am healed - it's just the way it happens. Except now it's different and we can't adjust.
People are just locking themselves in their houses and hoping to ride this thing out. As if by ignoring it it will go away.
Having just come through the last two weeks I know we will never be the same again, and that society will probably never be the same again. This is not something which you can avoid by shutting your door.
I've just realised something - I'm not scared anymore.
Friday 18 January 2008
Guilt
I never slept last night. Ironic really given my plea in my last post to wake up. The kids are very ill but neither of them are having breathing difficulties like Kirsty or Graham. I'm keeping them going with plenty of fluids and Paracetemols although they still don't know about their Dad.
I watched the news in the middle of the night and it seems like the infection rate is way above what had been expected, even in the worst case scenarios, and it's still nowhere near the peak that they expect to happen in 4 or 5 weeks. The infection is following the same sort of pattern as the 1918 pandemic with the 20-40 age range being the worst hit. In the Edinburgh area alone there have been 50,000 cases with nearly 15,000 deaths so far.
I can't leave the house as there's a possibility that I could still pass on the infection. The reality is that I still feel incredibly weak and couldn't think of walking any distance. Not that I would be able to drive anywhere as the petrol stations don't have any petrol for non-emergency service users - the drivers from Grangemouth are all sick.
I phoned mum this afternoon and she seems fine. Her neighbour is leaving shopping at her door and she spends her day watching the telly and completing jigsaws. I told her about Graham but the fact that the kids were OK overcame her shock. I phoned Graham's mum's residential home but couldn't get anyone to answer. She hasn't heard the news and I was almost relieved not to be able to speak to her.
Alison phoned me this evening and told me how the school is gradually closing down. Fewer and fewer staff are turning up every day and no-one is taking charge.
My over-riding emotion is one of guilt - I've survived - and so many haven't - but why? From now on I'm safe whereas all those thousands of people who have yet to be exposed must be living in real fear.
I took a call from an undertakers that they had been asked by the local authority to bury Graham in a temporary grave. I was strangely detached from what they were saying and all I could do was agree. I can't even remember where they said it was now.
I've made a decision - as long as the kids are alright on Monday I'm going to go to work. We can't just sit around and let things happen to us!
I watched the news in the middle of the night and it seems like the infection rate is way above what had been expected, even in the worst case scenarios, and it's still nowhere near the peak that they expect to happen in 4 or 5 weeks. The infection is following the same sort of pattern as the 1918 pandemic with the 20-40 age range being the worst hit. In the Edinburgh area alone there have been 50,000 cases with nearly 15,000 deaths so far.
I can't leave the house as there's a possibility that I could still pass on the infection. The reality is that I still feel incredibly weak and couldn't think of walking any distance. Not that I would be able to drive anywhere as the petrol stations don't have any petrol for non-emergency service users - the drivers from Grangemouth are all sick.
I phoned mum this afternoon and she seems fine. Her neighbour is leaving shopping at her door and she spends her day watching the telly and completing jigsaws. I told her about Graham but the fact that the kids were OK overcame her shock. I phoned Graham's mum's residential home but couldn't get anyone to answer. She hasn't heard the news and I was almost relieved not to be able to speak to her.
Alison phoned me this evening and told me how the school is gradually closing down. Fewer and fewer staff are turning up every day and no-one is taking charge.
My over-riding emotion is one of guilt - I've survived - and so many haven't - but why? From now on I'm safe whereas all those thousands of people who have yet to be exposed must be living in real fear.
I took a call from an undertakers that they had been asked by the local authority to bury Graham in a temporary grave. I was strangely detached from what they were saying and all I could do was agree. I can't even remember where they said it was now.
I've made a decision - as long as the kids are alright on Monday I'm going to go to work. We can't just sit around and let things happen to us!
Thursday 17 January 2008
Part of me.....
Part of me wants to die, part of me wants to walk away and forget, and this part - my voice - needs to speak.
In the last four days my life has changed forever. When I started to become aware of my surroundings again reality seemed to spiral out of control even more than in the delirium of my fever. Graham, David and Libby all came down with the "flu" on Tuesday. The word flu doesn't remotely capture the horror of what we're going through. Flu is something you have, miss a few days of work, and then get on with your lives, but not in this world.
When I got out of my bed for the first time on Wednesday I went through to Graham, who was in Kirsty's room. His was face was blue, he had to reach beyond himself for every breath and his temperature seemed to be consuming him from within. Two hours later Graham died in my arms - drowning in his own lungs.
The army came this morning and removed him in a bodybag - I remember seeing them from Vietnam - soldiers being carried out of helicopters like slabs of meat. My husband, my man, us - gone.
David and Libby seem to be getting better....I'm sitting here typing this and not believing it.....I'll wake up tomorrow and it won't have happened....please let me wake up......
In the last four days my life has changed forever. When I started to become aware of my surroundings again reality seemed to spiral out of control even more than in the delirium of my fever. Graham, David and Libby all came down with the "flu" on Tuesday. The word flu doesn't remotely capture the horror of what we're going through. Flu is something you have, miss a few days of work, and then get on with your lives, but not in this world.
When I got out of my bed for the first time on Wednesday I went through to Graham, who was in Kirsty's room. His was face was blue, he had to reach beyond himself for every breath and his temperature seemed to be consuming him from within. Two hours later Graham died in my arms - drowning in his own lungs.
The army came this morning and removed him in a bodybag - I remember seeing them from Vietnam - soldiers being carried out of helicopters like slabs of meat. My husband, my man, us - gone.
David and Libby seem to be getting better....I'm sitting here typing this and not believing it.....I'll wake up tomorrow and it won't have happened....please let me wake up......
Monday 14 January 2008
Mum
I'm writing this with Libby and David at my side. Mum made me promise to keep this thing going while she was ill. I'm only doing this for you. I went to the doctor today to try to get some Tamiflu. Our doctor's practice is normally superb but today it was chaotic. Of the five partners three are the mothers of young children and are unable (unwilling?) to come to work and one of the men has come down with flu. I couldn't get to see anyone and the woman at the desk, who seemed to be a patient herself, told me that there was no Tamiflu for the public as they were being used by key workers - who the hell are they? Mum is getting sicker by the hour. She won't let us into her room.
Graham
Love you mum
Libby
Kick ass mum
David
Graham
Love you mum
Libby
Kick ass mum
David
Nightmares
I’m ill! I've been awake all night. My throat seems to be closing up, my nose is running, I’m feeling stiff all over, I’ve got a splitting headache and running a high temperature. Graham has moved into Kristy’s room and I will try to stay in isolation from the family.
Graham's going to call the doctor this morning, I’ve stocked up with water and paracetemol. There’s no-one who we can send the kids to – who knows if they are free from the virus?
Graham and I have been talking through the door and we’ll use the mobile phone from now on. According to the news the virus will affect my breathing and will reach it’s peak between 2 – 4 days from the first symptoms. I’m going to miss Kirsty’s funeral.
Graham's going to call the doctor this morning, I’ve stocked up with water and paracetemol. There’s no-one who we can send the kids to – who knows if they are free from the virus?
Graham and I have been talking through the door and we’ll use the mobile phone from now on. According to the news the virus will affect my breathing and will reach it’s peak between 2 – 4 days from the first symptoms. I’m going to miss Kirsty’s funeral.
Sunday 13 January 2008
David and Libby
David and Libby have been amazing over the weekend. For 14-year-old twins they’re incredibly different. Libby is highly focused, mature and dependable – David isn’t - but has an incredible sense of humour and zest for life.
In less than 48 hours they have taken on a role in the family, which up until now was left up to Kirsty. It’s as if she lives on in them if that doesn’t sound too crazy and I find that idea so hopeful.
David slipped into our bed this morning and gave us both a big hug – something he hasn’t done for four or five years. Libby made breakfast and kept busy answering phones and speaking to family friends and relatives so that Graham and I had some time. In an instant the trivial disagreements and fights which have characterised their lives up to this point have disappeared. I’m so proud of them.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking about this at this time but I’m worried about their schoolwork. We’ve heard nothing from their school – aside from the radio and press announcement that all schools were closed. Having been into my school last week I think I can understand why – there’s probably no-one there. We need to try to have some normality in our lives and schooling plays such an important part in that normality – but will schooling ever be the same again?
I’m going to bed now – I’m feeling a bit stiff around my shoulders. I’m praying that it’s just the stress I’ve been under over the last few days.
In less than 48 hours they have taken on a role in the family, which up until now was left up to Kirsty. It’s as if she lives on in them if that doesn’t sound too crazy and I find that idea so hopeful.
David slipped into our bed this morning and gave us both a big hug – something he hasn’t done for four or five years. Libby made breakfast and kept busy answering phones and speaking to family friends and relatives so that Graham and I had some time. In an instant the trivial disagreements and fights which have characterised their lives up to this point have disappeared. I’m so proud of them.
I know I shouldn’t be thinking about this at this time but I’m worried about their schoolwork. We’ve heard nothing from their school – aside from the radio and press announcement that all schools were closed. Having been into my school last week I think I can understand why – there’s probably no-one there. We need to try to have some normality in our lives and schooling plays such an important part in that normality – but will schooling ever be the same again?
I’m going to bed now – I’m feeling a bit stiff around my shoulders. I’m praying that it’s just the stress I’ve been under over the last few days.
John Docherty
Alison, my Principal Teacher, phoned me just after lunch to say that Mr Docherty, our Headteacher, had died. She hadn't heard about Kirsty and was so apologetic when I told her.
Mr Docherty was an old style headteacher. Courteous, calm and slightly patrician. I had my share of disagreements with him when he didn't appreciate some of my more radical ideas about education but we never fell out.
This is a very new and strange world we are inhabiting.
Spread
Graham has kept himself busy by organising Kirsty's funeral. It will take place on Tuesday at Mortonhall. We have had a steady stream of phone calls but very few visitors - to be honest we have asked people to stay away but no doubt many are scared of coming to the house.
I had to break the news to the two grandmothers. Graham's mum is 84 and lives in a residential home in Stonehaven. She was remarkably calm about it and told me about her mother who had lost two brothers in the 1918 influenza outbreak. They had been waiting to come back after having survived the 1914-18 war but never made it home. I found it strange that she had never mentioned this before.
Mum told me that she had been deeply worried when she had last spoken to me on the phone. She said she knew something was wrong - I've never been any good at hiding things from her. She is determined to come to the funeral, although I have tried to put her off.
I took the car down to Stockbridge to do some shopping but most of the shops were closed. I went along to the Waitrose Supermarket which was still open. The store was limiting the some of the things you could purchase and had provided disinfectant cloths to wipe down the trolley handles. Almost everyone was wearing a face mask which created a strangely disconnected environment.
On returning home I watched the telly for most of the day. Apparently the human to human transmission of H5N1 had started in Thailand three weeks ago but the poultry industry had tried to suppress the news fearing it would harm their profits.
Some of the workers at Phuket Airport had been suffering from the infection and many people from throughout the world had left to go home with the virus as a fellow traveller. In the enclosed plane and the recycled air most of the passengers of these planes had then been infected. These passengers had then started to fall ill within a two to three days of getting home - wherever that was. Unfortunately many of them had still gone to New Year parties giving the virus another foothold.
So often you watch the news with a sense of detachment - I couldn't make the shift to participant, especially when they mentioned that the Edinburgh outbreak (there are outbreaks taking place throughout the UK, Europe and throughout the World) had been particularly quick to spread due to the Hogmany celebrations. They mentioned Jenny and used her as an example of how easily the virus had spread. Kirsty wasn't mentioned by name but 75 people have died so far in the Edinburgh area.
They don't know how virulent it is at the moment but the experts are talking about it being much worse than the 1918 strain. So much of the information that they are talking about as to do with facts and figures. It's like watching an election with maps and graphs and interviews but underneath it all it's very very different - people are terrified. You can see it in their eyes. I saw it this morning and it's even more exaggerated when it's only the eyes you can see. I saw it again just a few minutes ago when I caught my own reflection in the mirror.
I had to break the news to the two grandmothers. Graham's mum is 84 and lives in a residential home in Stonehaven. She was remarkably calm about it and told me about her mother who had lost two brothers in the 1918 influenza outbreak. They had been waiting to come back after having survived the 1914-18 war but never made it home. I found it strange that she had never mentioned this before.
Mum told me that she had been deeply worried when she had last spoken to me on the phone. She said she knew something was wrong - I've never been any good at hiding things from her. She is determined to come to the funeral, although I have tried to put her off.
I took the car down to Stockbridge to do some shopping but most of the shops were closed. I went along to the Waitrose Supermarket which was still open. The store was limiting the some of the things you could purchase and had provided disinfectant cloths to wipe down the trolley handles. Almost everyone was wearing a face mask which created a strangely disconnected environment.
On returning home I watched the telly for most of the day. Apparently the human to human transmission of H5N1 had started in Thailand three weeks ago but the poultry industry had tried to suppress the news fearing it would harm their profits.
Some of the workers at Phuket Airport had been suffering from the infection and many people from throughout the world had left to go home with the virus as a fellow traveller. In the enclosed plane and the recycled air most of the passengers of these planes had then been infected. These passengers had then started to fall ill within a two to three days of getting home - wherever that was. Unfortunately many of them had still gone to New Year parties giving the virus another foothold.
So often you watch the news with a sense of detachment - I couldn't make the shift to participant, especially when they mentioned that the Edinburgh outbreak (there are outbreaks taking place throughout the UK, Europe and throughout the World) had been particularly quick to spread due to the Hogmany celebrations. They mentioned Jenny and used her as an example of how easily the virus had spread. Kirsty wasn't mentioned by name but 75 people have died so far in the Edinburgh area.
They don't know how virulent it is at the moment but the experts are talking about it being much worse than the 1918 strain. So much of the information that they are talking about as to do with facts and figures. It's like watching an election with maps and graphs and interviews but underneath it all it's very very different - people are terrified. You can see it in their eyes. I saw it this morning and it's even more exaggerated when it's only the eyes you can see. I saw it again just a few minutes ago when I caught my own reflection in the mirror.
Saturday 12 January 2008
Kirsty
We couldn't get near the Royal Infirmary. The police had set up road blocks and were only letting through accident and emergencies. The hospital has been shut to flu admissions.
We parked at the Cameron Toll shopping centre and walked through side streets up to the hospital. There was a huge crowd of people outside the entrance. I heard someone saying the hospital had received a supply of Tamiflu and part of me wanted to join in - the chance of getting some protection for the family almost overtook me, but Graham pulled me round the other side of the hospital where our friend let us in through an emergency exit.
Inside it seemed strangely quiet - particularly compared to our last visit. Our friend explained that up to 40% of staff were not in work, and that of those who were in some had been working for up to 72 hours without a break. Wearing our masks and white coats we were never challenged as we made our way up to Kirsty's ward.
I've never believed in "mother's intuition" but I knew we were too late. Graham told me not to be so stupid but I could see from the way that he snapped at me that he had the same worry.
As we turned the corner I immediately knew Kirsty had gone. The ward lights were out and only one nurse was in the staff base speaking to someone on the phone. She explained, in a very matter of fact way, that Kirsty had died that afternoon. The other patients had been moved to the new centre in Penicuik.
Graham, who had been so strong, dropped to his knees. Kirsty and Graham had always had a special bond - something I'd almost been jealous of - and now he'd lost his girl. We were left in the room together standing at the side of her empty bed for what seemed like ages until our friend came in and led us down to the mortuary. He spoke to the woman on the door and took us into a room with lots of trolleys with bodies lying neatly in lines with the sheet pulled up over their faces. She stopped abruptly beside one trolley and pulled back the sheet. It wasn't Kirsty. I almost hoped there had been some mistake. Perhaps she had been sent to Penicuik? But at the very next trolley our hopes were broken - Kirsty lay there so peacefully. It reminded me of all the times I'd gone into the kids rooms to watch them sleeping. Even as they had got older it had been a special time and in strange way this seemed no different.
In my own mind I'd tried to imagine what this moment might have been like, particularly after Jenny's funeral, but I'd been wrong - I was numb, just numb - nothing else.
Again we were left alone and we said our goodbyes. I had to eventually pull Graham away as we needed to get home to David and Libby. I was surprised by my own strength, where it's coming from I don't know.
We got back to the car and drove home. The moment the kids laid eyes on us they knew what had happened. Libby ran to her room and David just stood there. I just held him in my arms while Graham ran after Libby.
We will get through this - for Kirsty.
We parked at the Cameron Toll shopping centre and walked through side streets up to the hospital. There was a huge crowd of people outside the entrance. I heard someone saying the hospital had received a supply of Tamiflu and part of me wanted to join in - the chance of getting some protection for the family almost overtook me, but Graham pulled me round the other side of the hospital where our friend let us in through an emergency exit.
Inside it seemed strangely quiet - particularly compared to our last visit. Our friend explained that up to 40% of staff were not in work, and that of those who were in some had been working for up to 72 hours without a break. Wearing our masks and white coats we were never challenged as we made our way up to Kirsty's ward.
I've never believed in "mother's intuition" but I knew we were too late. Graham told me not to be so stupid but I could see from the way that he snapped at me that he had the same worry.
As we turned the corner I immediately knew Kirsty had gone. The ward lights were out and only one nurse was in the staff base speaking to someone on the phone. She explained, in a very matter of fact way, that Kirsty had died that afternoon. The other patients had been moved to the new centre in Penicuik.
Graham, who had been so strong, dropped to his knees. Kirsty and Graham had always had a special bond - something I'd almost been jealous of - and now he'd lost his girl. We were left in the room together standing at the side of her empty bed for what seemed like ages until our friend came in and led us down to the mortuary. He spoke to the woman on the door and took us into a room with lots of trolleys with bodies lying neatly in lines with the sheet pulled up over their faces. She stopped abruptly beside one trolley and pulled back the sheet. It wasn't Kirsty. I almost hoped there had been some mistake. Perhaps she had been sent to Penicuik? But at the very next trolley our hopes were broken - Kirsty lay there so peacefully. It reminded me of all the times I'd gone into the kids rooms to watch them sleeping. Even as they had got older it had been a special time and in strange way this seemed no different.
In my own mind I'd tried to imagine what this moment might have been like, particularly after Jenny's funeral, but I'd been wrong - I was numb, just numb - nothing else.
Again we were left alone and we said our goodbyes. I had to eventually pull Graham away as we needed to get home to David and Libby. I was surprised by my own strength, where it's coming from I don't know.
We got back to the car and drove home. The moment the kids laid eyes on us they knew what had happened. Libby ran to her room and David just stood there. I just held him in my arms while Graham ran after Libby.
We will get through this - for Kirsty.
Friday 11 January 2008
Suspended Animation
I seem to have been floating outside my body today - trying to do normal things - whilst the world around me seemed to be falling apart.
We couldn't get in to the hospital to see Kirsty, as it's admission only. They are going to start to use a barracks in Penicuik as a new hospital next week and they're moving soldiers out and into tents. We went to Jenny's funeral this morning and throughout I couldn't help but think that this could be Kirsty. It seemed so selfish when Ruth was going through such a difficult time. As one of my best friends I don't think I was able to give her the support she deserved. As has seemed to be the case so often this week I was glad to get away.
I did go into school this afternoon - despite Graham saying that I shouldn't. I was glad I went in but it didn't lift my spirits in any way. The authority seem to be trying to issue instructions as to what the school should be doing but it seems like there's no one there to pick it up. Mr Docherty, our headteacher, is apparently very ill and two of the Depute Heads haven't been all week. Most of the teachers who are coming in (about 20 out 100) are staying in their rooms and only mixing with their close ffriends. No-one goes to the staffroom and I walked round the school without seeing anyone in the corridors. It doesn't help that the heating has been off for two days. The janitors haven't been seen since Tuesday. I tried to phone the local authority head office but the phone just rang out. Everything is breaking down in such a short space of time.
I've been reading some of the links which Graham has found on the web and put them up on the sidebar. I find it hard to read them but perhaps over the next few weeks they might provide some help.
We are just about to leave the house to try again to get into the hospital to see Kirsty. Graham knows one of the doctors and he said he might be able to get us in.
We couldn't get in to the hospital to see Kirsty, as it's admission only. They are going to start to use a barracks in Penicuik as a new hospital next week and they're moving soldiers out and into tents. We went to Jenny's funeral this morning and throughout I couldn't help but think that this could be Kirsty. It seemed so selfish when Ruth was going through such a difficult time. As one of my best friends I don't think I was able to give her the support she deserved. As has seemed to be the case so often this week I was glad to get away.
I did go into school this afternoon - despite Graham saying that I shouldn't. I was glad I went in but it didn't lift my spirits in any way. The authority seem to be trying to issue instructions as to what the school should be doing but it seems like there's no one there to pick it up. Mr Docherty, our headteacher, is apparently very ill and two of the Depute Heads haven't been all week. Most of the teachers who are coming in (about 20 out 100) are staying in their rooms and only mixing with their close ffriends. No-one goes to the staffroom and I walked round the school without seeing anyone in the corridors. It doesn't help that the heating has been off for two days. The janitors haven't been seen since Tuesday. I tried to phone the local authority head office but the phone just rang out. Everything is breaking down in such a short space of time.
I've been reading some of the links which Graham has found on the web and put them up on the sidebar. I find it hard to read them but perhaps over the next few weeks they might provide some help.
We are just about to leave the house to try again to get into the hospital to see Kirsty. Graham knows one of the doctors and he said he might be able to get us in.
Thursday 10 January 2008
Guilt
The pain of watching your own daughter lying in a bed behind a sheet of glass is unimaginable. They wouldn’t let me in to her room even with a mask on. Her symptoms have progressed rapidly to the point where she’s struggling for breath. Kirsty is asthmatic so her breathing isn’t great at the best of times. Why her?
I stood with my head against the window for what seemed like hours until Graham pulled me away. It was on our way out that I noticed the hospital starting to fill up. There seemed to be lots of people at reception and there were a few lying around on trolleys. Everyone’s eye’s seemed to be out on stalks and part of me was glad to be out of the place until I remembered Kirsty lying upstairs.
We took a short drive, leaving the hospital passing Craigmillar Castle and on to Arthur’s Seat. Graham had bought a paper and we sat silently in the car park staring at our thoughts. I scanned the paper and noticed many complaints from parents about the closure of the schools. They all thought it was an over reaction and the lack of childcare was placing too much of a burden upon them.
If they had only been in that hospital few minutes ago they wouldn’t be complaining. I’d read on the web last night that closing schools early was key to limiting the speed of infection. I was just glad the authorities had acted quickly here.
After a walk up to the summit in silence we drove back to the hospital and Graham left to go back to work. The health board had lifted their isolation order on us yesterday morning as there are so many other cases coming to the surface.
Eventually the hospital said I had to go home as they didn’t have the space for visitors. For that instant Kirsty was no longer a 17 year old but my baby and they were asking me to leave her. I tried to put up some resistance but I knew they were right but it didn’t make it any easier.
I’ve been living on my mobile phone over the last 48 hours and it’s great to have friends to speak to – I don’t know what I do without them. One of them – who works in my school – was telling me that the Headteacher has fallen ill along with five other members of staff. Apparently there are other teachers whose children have developed the infection and they are also off school. The authority is trying to set up an on-line learning service but the government’s plans to use BBC Jam have been shown up as the service closed in March 2007 without the plans being updated.
I’m going to go into school tomorrow for a couple of hours to gather some work and some addresses of some of my pupils. There's something strange going on - usually you face tragedy by yourselves but everybody seems to going through the same thing. I think it's guilt that I'm not in school and others are, who are experiencing similar things - that's making me even consider going in.
Our own kids are getting bored and spend their days on Bebo speaking to their friends. At first I worried that all they were doing was feeding the rumour mill but it seems they are genuinely helping each other. They are also making links with kids from other countries – they all seem to be in it together.
I stood with my head against the window for what seemed like hours until Graham pulled me away. It was on our way out that I noticed the hospital starting to fill up. There seemed to be lots of people at reception and there were a few lying around on trolleys. Everyone’s eye’s seemed to be out on stalks and part of me was glad to be out of the place until I remembered Kirsty lying upstairs.
We took a short drive, leaving the hospital passing Craigmillar Castle and on to Arthur’s Seat. Graham had bought a paper and we sat silently in the car park staring at our thoughts. I scanned the paper and noticed many complaints from parents about the closure of the schools. They all thought it was an over reaction and the lack of childcare was placing too much of a burden upon them.
If they had only been in that hospital few minutes ago they wouldn’t be complaining. I’d read on the web last night that closing schools early was key to limiting the speed of infection. I was just glad the authorities had acted quickly here.
After a walk up to the summit in silence we drove back to the hospital and Graham left to go back to work. The health board had lifted their isolation order on us yesterday morning as there are so many other cases coming to the surface.
Eventually the hospital said I had to go home as they didn’t have the space for visitors. For that instant Kirsty was no longer a 17 year old but my baby and they were asking me to leave her. I tried to put up some resistance but I knew they were right but it didn’t make it any easier.
I’ve been living on my mobile phone over the last 48 hours and it’s great to have friends to speak to – I don’t know what I do without them. One of them – who works in my school – was telling me that the Headteacher has fallen ill along with five other members of staff. Apparently there are other teachers whose children have developed the infection and they are also off school. The authority is trying to set up an on-line learning service but the government’s plans to use BBC Jam have been shown up as the service closed in March 2007 without the plans being updated.
I’m going to go into school tomorrow for a couple of hours to gather some work and some addresses of some of my pupils. There's something strange going on - usually you face tragedy by yourselves but everybody seems to going through the same thing. I think it's guilt that I'm not in school and others are, who are experiencing similar things - that's making me even consider going in.
Our own kids are getting bored and spend their days on Bebo speaking to their friends. At first I worried that all they were doing was feeding the rumour mill but it seems they are genuinely helping each other. They are also making links with kids from other countries – they all seem to be in it together.
Wednesday 9 January 2008
In shock
Yesterday was one of the longest days of my life. I think I've probably been and probably still am in shock.
I had a long chat with Kirsty on the phone this morning and she seems to be alright. One of the girls who were at the party has become ill and has been moved into intensive care. I’m just praying that Kirsty comes home soon.
Last night I couldn’t sleep and slipped out of the house and went for a long walk around the town. We live in a flat in the New Town so I was able to walk along Princes Street at 3.00am. It seemed strangely surreal the Castle was illuminated and the Christmas lights were still lighting the trees. Even with a gale whipping up the litter it was beautiuful. The occasional taxi sped along George Street and as I walked back down Hanover Street and along Herriot Row I thought back to just a few days ago when all was different.
I’d phoned the school yesterday. The pupils had been told to stay at home but staff were to report to work. Apparently many teachers hadn’t come in preferring to stay at home with their children. Of those who had come into work many had locked themselves in their classrooms and never ventured out. I spoke to the Head and told him I’d be back to work once our isolation period was finished. I know exams seem so trivial in such circumstances but I have great Higher class who can’t afford to miss any lessons.
I know I haven’t mentioned my husband yet but without him I would be going to pieces. He works for water company as an engineer and he told me today that many workers hadn’t turned up and their worried about how they can maintain the service if this continues.
There are apparently another 15 confirmed cases in the UK, although we don’t know where. Other countries have also announced cases but no deaths – they had all been in Thailand. Ten people have died in Thailand with another 250 suspected cases.
I spoke to my mother on the phone last night and didn’t let on what was happening to us – hopefully she won’t need to know.
I had a long chat with Kirsty on the phone this morning and she seems to be alright. One of the girls who were at the party has become ill and has been moved into intensive care. I’m just praying that Kirsty comes home soon.
Last night I couldn’t sleep and slipped out of the house and went for a long walk around the town. We live in a flat in the New Town so I was able to walk along Princes Street at 3.00am. It seemed strangely surreal the Castle was illuminated and the Christmas lights were still lighting the trees. Even with a gale whipping up the litter it was beautiuful. The occasional taxi sped along George Street and as I walked back down Hanover Street and along Herriot Row I thought back to just a few days ago when all was different.
I’d phoned the school yesterday. The pupils had been told to stay at home but staff were to report to work. Apparently many teachers hadn’t come in preferring to stay at home with their children. Of those who had come into work many had locked themselves in their classrooms and never ventured out. I spoke to the Head and told him I’d be back to work once our isolation period was finished. I know exams seem so trivial in such circumstances but I have great Higher class who can’t afford to miss any lessons.
I know I haven’t mentioned my husband yet but without him I would be going to pieces. He works for water company as an engineer and he told me today that many workers hadn’t turned up and their worried about how they can maintain the service if this continues.
There are apparently another 15 confirmed cases in the UK, although we don’t know where. Other countries have also announced cases but no deaths – they had all been in Thailand. Ten people have died in Thailand with another 250 suspected cases.
I spoke to my mother on the phone last night and didn’t let on what was happening to us – hopefully she won’t need to know.
Monday 7 January 2008
It's true!
Everything is happening so fast.
Our doctor came round to the house with a doctor and nurse from the Health Service. He explained that Jenny had acquired the H5N1 virus when she had been in Thailand. He told us to watch the news as there was going to be an announcement this evening but he couldn't say any more.
He then said that Kirsty would have to go to an isolation unit for observation. We didn't want her to go but they explained that she would get expert medical supervision. If she's clear in the next three days she can come home. We have been told to stay at home for the next week.
I can't explain what it was like seeing Kirsty going off with them - it all happened so quickly we didn't even say goodbye properly.
We were told to take some basic measures can be taken at the individual level to reduce the risk of infection:
1. respiratory hygiene: covering the mouth and nose with a tissue when coughing or sneezing
2. disposing of dirty tissues promptly and carefully – bagging and binning them
3. avoiding nonessential travel and large crowds, where possible
4. handwashing frequently with soap and water: reduces acquiring the virus from contact with infected surfaces and from passing it on
5. cleaning hard surfaces (e.g. kitchen worktops, door handles) frequently, using a normal cleaning product
6. making sure your children follow this advice.
We were given this pamphlet.
We watched the News at 9.00 and PM Gordon Brown made a statement that the H5N1 virus had mutated in Thailand and was being passed on through human to human contact. He confirmed the death of a student in Edinburgh and that a number of other people who had been in direct contact with the deceased were being placed in quarantine. He appealed for any passengers on Jenny's flight to come forwards and make themselves known if they haven't been contacted by the authorities.
I went onto the web and found the following link - I hope they act on this advice and close the schools immediately.
I've decided to keep this chronicle going in the meantime as it's the only place where I can seem to stand outside the horrendous reality of what's happening. For the first time in my adult life I'm scared.
Our doctor came round to the house with a doctor and nurse from the Health Service. He explained that Jenny had acquired the H5N1 virus when she had been in Thailand. He told us to watch the news as there was going to be an announcement this evening but he couldn't say any more.
He then said that Kirsty would have to go to an isolation unit for observation. We didn't want her to go but they explained that she would get expert medical supervision. If she's clear in the next three days she can come home. We have been told to stay at home for the next week.
I can't explain what it was like seeing Kirsty going off with them - it all happened so quickly we didn't even say goodbye properly.
We were told to take some basic measures can be taken at the individual level to reduce the risk of infection:
1. respiratory hygiene: covering the mouth and nose with a tissue when coughing or sneezing
2. disposing of dirty tissues promptly and carefully – bagging and binning them
3. avoiding nonessential travel and large crowds, where possible
4. handwashing frequently with soap and water: reduces acquiring the virus from contact with infected surfaces and from passing it on
5. cleaning hard surfaces (e.g. kitchen worktops, door handles) frequently, using a normal cleaning product
6. making sure your children follow this advice.
We were given this pamphlet.
We watched the News at 9.00 and PM Gordon Brown made a statement that the H5N1 virus had mutated in Thailand and was being passed on through human to human contact. He confirmed the death of a student in Edinburgh and that a number of other people who had been in direct contact with the deceased were being placed in quarantine. He appealed for any passengers on Jenny's flight to come forwards and make themselves known if they haven't been contacted by the authorities.
I went onto the web and found the following link - I hope they act on this advice and close the schools immediately.
I've decided to keep this chronicle going in the meantime as it's the only place where I can seem to stand outside the horrendous reality of what's happening. For the first time in my adult life I'm scared.
Isolation
This morning was a blur with everyone in the family getting ready for work and school at the same time. By the time I got into school my worries from last night had disappeared and even moreso after I'd finished teaching 4T.
Then it happened - just out of the blue. I was called to the headteacher's office. In his room were two policemen and my doctor. They explained that my friend's daughter, Jenny, had died in the night and that they would like me to return home as a precautionary measure. I didn't mention that my own daughter had gone to a party with Jenny when she'd got back from Thailand.
I just felt as if the floor had opened when they said that our entire family was to return home and remain in isolation until they confirmed the cause of death. They tried to reassure me that this was normal procedure in such cases but my mind raced back to what I'd been reading last night.
When I got home my two daughters and son were already there. Kirsty, our eldest daughter and best friend of Jenny was inconsolable and just kept asking if she was going to be alright. What could I say?
This isn't what I thought I'd be writing about when I started this blog last week and I'm not sure if I can keep writing given the circumstances. Our doctor is coming around to the house in 30 minutes with some people from the health department. I'm trying to be upbeat and positive in front of the family but underneath I'm going to pieces.
Then it happened - just out of the blue. I was called to the headteacher's office. In his room were two policemen and my doctor. They explained that my friend's daughter, Jenny, had died in the night and that they would like me to return home as a precautionary measure. I didn't mention that my own daughter had gone to a party with Jenny when she'd got back from Thailand.
I just felt as if the floor had opened when they said that our entire family was to return home and remain in isolation until they confirmed the cause of death. They tried to reassure me that this was normal procedure in such cases but my mind raced back to what I'd been reading last night.
When I got home my two daughters and son were already there. Kirsty, our eldest daughter and best friend of Jenny was inconsolable and just kept asking if she was going to be alright. What could I say?
This isn't what I thought I'd be writing about when I started this blog last week and I'm not sure if I can keep writing given the circumstances. Our doctor is coming around to the house in 30 minutes with some people from the health department. I'm trying to be upbeat and positive in front of the family but underneath I'm going to pieces.
Sunday 6 January 2008
Avian Flu in Thailand
Just watched the news and couldn't believe it when they carried an item on an outbreak of Avian Flu in Thailand.
H5N1 has evolved into a flu virus strain that infects more species than any previously known flu virus strain, is deadlier than any previously known flu virus strain, and continues to evolve becoming both more widespread and more deadly causing a leading expert on avian flu to publish an article titled "The world is teetering on the edge of a pandemic that could kill a large fraction of the human population" in American Scientist. He called for adequate resources to fight what he sees as a major world threat to possibly billions of lives.[9] Since the article was written, the world community has spent billions of dollars fighting this threat with limited success.
I phoned Ruth but no-one's answering the phone. I'm not usually a worrier but I have deep sense of foreboding about all this. Surely it can't be?
H5N1 has evolved into a flu virus strain that infects more species than any previously known flu virus strain, is deadlier than any previously known flu virus strain, and continues to evolve becoming both more widespread and more deadly causing a leading expert on avian flu to publish an article titled "The world is teetering on the edge of a pandemic that could kill a large fraction of the human population" in American Scientist. He called for adequate resources to fight what he sees as a major world threat to possibly billions of lives.[9] Since the article was written, the world community has spent billions of dollars fighting this threat with limited success.
I phoned Ruth but no-one's answering the phone. I'm not usually a worrier but I have deep sense of foreboding about all this. Surely it can't be?
Phone call
I received a phone call from a friend this morning which has left me quite shaken.
Ruth told me that her 17 year old daughter had just been taken into hospital. They had just flown back from Phuket in Thailand a few days ago where they had been on holiday for Christmas.
Jenny is having problems with her breathing and seems to be suffering from flu-like symptoms. We're going to pop round to see them tonight.
I went onto the web to see if there was a problem in Thailand but there doesn't seem to be anything going on.
It just seems like yesterday that we watched the tsunami roll across the holiday beaches of Phuket on Boxing Day 2004.....
Ruth told me that her 17 year old daughter had just been taken into hospital. They had just flown back from Phuket in Thailand a few days ago where they had been on holiday for Christmas.
Jenny is having problems with her breathing and seems to be suffering from flu-like symptoms. We're going to pop round to see them tonight.
I went onto the web to see if there was a problem in Thailand but there doesn't seem to be anything going on.
It just seems like yesterday that we watched the tsunami roll across the holiday beaches of Phuket on Boxing Day 2004.....
Saturday 5 January 2008
Back to work
We go back to work on Monday after the Christmas and New Year break.
It's been a wonderful holiday and it will be difficult to get going on Monday. I've been doing some work this morning in preparation for the week ahead.
Veronica,one my best friends, is a primary teacher who seems to spend much more time than I do on lesson preparation. I probably spend more time than she does on marking but I sometimes wonder if we've got the balance right in secondary schools?
In the coming term I'm going to try to spend more time on preparing for teaching...ah the world is littered with great intentions at this time of year!
It's been a wonderful holiday and it will be difficult to get going on Monday. I've been doing some work this morning in preparation for the week ahead.
Veronica,one my best friends, is a primary teacher who seems to spend much more time than I do on lesson preparation. I probably spend more time than she does on marking but I sometimes wonder if we've got the balance right in secondary schools?
In the coming term I'm going to try to spend more time on preparing for teaching...ah the world is littered with great intentions at this time of year!
Wednesday 2 January 2008
The Dominie's Chronicle
So here goes - my first post. Jean, my sister-in-law, introduced me to blogging (I've always hated the terms blog and blogging) when we went down to visit them in Norfolk for Christmas. She's a most insistent person - aren't you Jean - and set me up with this blog (ugh!) and an A4 list of instructions. I make no claims to have any technical expertise but she did make it look very simple.
I'm going to use this thing to try to record the exeriences of a lowly, bottom feeding teacher over the course of one year.
I hope you enjoy my journey.
The Dominie's Chronicle is named after A.S. Neill's Dominie's Log (my first link!!!) - one of my favourite books on education - and it also allows me to avoid calling this thing a blog!!
I'm going to use this thing to try to record the exeriences of a lowly, bottom feeding teacher over the course of one year.
I hope you enjoy my journey.
The Dominie's Chronicle is named after A.S. Neill's Dominie's Log (my first link!!!) - one of my favourite books on education - and it also allows me to avoid calling this thing a blog!!
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