The COVID Chronicles – 14

Geneva, 11 February, 2021


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PATAYA, “L’Envol”

I caught Geneva Lux, the town’s light festival, just before its twenty-one installations were taken down. It was a cold, wet night and this was night-time viewing. There were few pedestrians about. A sign of the times was the number of food delivery bikes braving the rain-slick streets. Head down and struggling to keep my iPhone dry, enthusiasm was some way off but took a step closer when I found “L’Envol” in the Parc des Bastions.

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Chris Plant, “Portal Harmonic”

Well done, Geneva, for rolling out public beautiful stuff in the era of COVID-19. On the outer wall of the Old Town, Chris Plant’s slow-colour-pulsating “Portal Harmonic” hypnotised a small crowd; me included.

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Sophie Guyot, “Hivernales Népenthèses”

My favourite lights had me enthralled and wandering around in small circles right outside Tiffany’s. “Hivernales Népenthèses” is Sophie Guyot’s take on a species of tropical insect-eating flower. I love the way these elegant boulder-based standing lamps have been orientated towards the luxurious premises of the famous jeweller.

The pandemic news gets no better. In the countries that have instigated distancing measures, the case numbers and mortality data are not falling as fast as expected. Even with the roll out of effective vaccines, the numbers will not suddenly drop to zero. The hard truth is that the shape of an epidemic curve dictates that the total number of cases will eventually be double of what we have recorded to date.

Different scientific institutions are getting a handle on the full implications of the different variants of the COVID-19 coronavirus and, importantly, how effective the different vaccines may be against these variants. This spontaneous generation of variants gives a new sense of urgency to vaccination campaigns. Political spats about availability of vaccines are unsurprising. Currently, the EU claims Astra Zeneca is not fulfilling it’s contract to supply its vaccine in sufficient quantity as European countries face a difficult and delayed roll-out. The WHO points out that vaccine availability must be fair and reach countries without developed public health infrastructure. This is not unreasonable; the people in these countries could act as sources of yet more variants that carry the potential to overcome a vaccine and spread to other countries. Meanwhile, Switzerland seems to be going about its vaccination programme calmly and efficiently. I have registered for my jab; it should be three to four weeks away.

It may be all too obvious, but the longer this pandemic runs, the more severe will be the long term impact. It is inevitable that COVID-19 related studies, reports and enquiries will occupy our news cycles and concerns for years to come. I would hope that the WHO has already foreseen a major and apolitical lessons learnt review that is orientated around preventing and managing future pandemics. Such a review would be incomplete without something conclusive about the origins of this virus, how the pandemic affected poor people disproportionately in most countries and how effective or ineffective different countries’ strategies proved to be. I predict a continued academic commentary about the interface of politics and the pandemic especially in the USA. With respect to the development, distribution and delivery of the vaccines, we will hear much more of governmental and corporate wins and losses. I make no predictions about the economic impact of the pandemic nor how it will be recorded other than it will be profound and long lasting. Another long running source of research will be the impact on the education and mental health of children who have missed so much school time and the accompanying social interactions. COVID-19 will have a long, long tail.

Closer to home…. I’m not really a great TV watcher but the pandemic has changed my habits. I never thought I would spend so much time watching Netflix. My impression is that you have to kiss a lot of frogs before one proves to be… well…. a prince. “Call My Agent” (prince) is a French production about actors and their agents finding themselves embroiled in all shades of gallic mischief. It is thoroughly entertaining. By contrast, Bridgerton (frog) is the TV streaming giant’s current smash; this is surprising. Lavish sets, exuberant costumes and a wondrously knee-taking cast make the first few episodes just watchable. However, we abandoned it as the story-line failed to get out of its lame first gear and whole episodes were dominated by the era’s lack of sex education for young ladies and scenes that could easily pass as raunchy Kleenex ads. Yeuch! (Sorry… s(p)oiler alert!)

Hoping my readers are well, safe and as happy as possible under the circs.

The COVID Chronicles – 13

Geneva, 25 January, 2021


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Source: United Nations

The two main sources of the current news agenda – the COVID-19 pandemic and the shockwaves emanating from Washington – exclude other world changing events from our attention. On 22 January, a United Nations treaty prohibiting the development, testing, production, stockpiling, stationing, transfer, use and threat of use of nuclear weapons entered into force.

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Source: ICAN

Yes, nuclear weapons are now banned under international law. Obviously, the states who possess nuclear weapons and their closest allies have not (yet) signed up to this treaty but their diplo-kinder-doublespeak will now sound increasingly hollow. This new prohibition with 52 member states heightens the imperative of eventual elimination of nuclear arsenals: something that all nations have committed themselves to through being party to the Nuclear Weapons Non-Proliferation Treaty.

Most Brit ex-pats like me probably look to the same website for their international news. I couldn’t help noticing just how opportunistic even the BBC can be. This standard-bearer for global media reported two days ago that the UK variant of the COVID-19 coronavirus “may be more deadly.” What….? Oh No! We’re all gonna die!!! The scientists responsible for this “news” had reported that, up to now, of 1000 people over 60 years of age with COVID-19, ten would be expected to die. There were indications that this figure might rise to thirteen in cases caused by the UK variant. Yesterday, the scientists concerned wanted to cast a more realistic light on these “not particularly strong” findings and pointed out that the Prime Minister and the BBC had blown it out of proportion. The BBC then headlined with “Covid: ‘More deadly’ UK variant claim played down by scientists.”  Brilliant! Two front page news items about nothing newsworthy.

Staying with the BBC for just a bit… And I try not to put my political colours on show in these Chronicles, but…. Yesterday, another upfront but underwhelming news item reported that Boris Johnson had a telephone conversation with President Joe Biden. Wowzers! However, the informative tail-piece assures me that incisive journalism is not a thing of the past. It appears that Mr Biden once referred to Mr Johnson as a “physical and emotional clone of Mr Trump.” I have to say, this Biden chappie seems to made of the right stuff.

Eight weeks back, we welcomed the news that COVID-19 vaccines had been developed and approved for use. We believed that they would bring about a rapid end to this pandemic and that our lives could get back to “normal” in a matter of months and certainly by the end of 2021. It turns out that our optimism was short-sighted and short-lived. The situation evolves rapidly as the virus is proving to be a cunning and agile adversary. The emerging picture is one of a desperate race to vaccinate whole populations as case numbers, hospital admissions and deaths rise in many countries despite a variety of stringent social distancing measures. Whilst there are, apparently, hundreds of recognised variants of the virus, the three causing most concern because of their transmissibility are those thought to originate in the UK, South Africa and Brazil. 

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There is currently no doubt about the safety and efficacy of the approved COVID-19 vaccines in terms of limiting severity of outcome of infection. However, the big unknown is the extent to which immunity prevents transmission. Even if a person is immune – either from vaccination or having had COVID-19 – he or she may still carry and transmit the virus. It is not, in infectious disease terms, a “sterile immunity.” This means that the glittering prize of “herd immunity” may not be achievable. The most likely long term scenario is that COVID-19 will become just another common and mild flu-like illness that seriously affects only those who have not been vaccinated. Vaccines may have to accommodate variants and so vaccination programmes may have to be repeated. The over-arching and achievable objective of our public health authorities is not to eliminate transmission but to reduce the severity of COVID-19 infections so limiting associated deaths and, at the same time, protecting our health services.

A title for a painting is important as it can change how a viewer might look at the piece and what he or she perceives. The above is a recent snowed-in lockdown painting. I cannot shake off my fascination for African masks and I remain gripped by the daily political developments in the US. So I’m struggling to find an appropriate title here. “The Blues”? “BlackLivesMatter”? “Intercontinental”? Does anyone have a suggestion? Perhaps I should simply dedicate it to the extraordinary young Amanda Gorman who read one of her extraordinary poems at Joe Biden’s Presidential inauguration last week.

I am sure that if I had the privilege of talking to Ms Gorman and started a sentence with “Well, in my day…”, she would be quick to point out that it was no longer my day. It was hers. And Greta Thunberg‘s. And my nephew’s. The nephew who, now in his twenties and fired up by global issues, asked me “Didn’t you guys know you were frying the planet? And you still eat beef! I mean, wasn’t it obvious that booming city populations and international air travel was an infectious disease catastrophe waiting to happen?” He was on a roll. “Didn’t you know that we are inheriting your debts together with a global financial system that’s a house of cards?” Exasperated, he finished with “Didn’t your generation think about the world you were passing on to us?” I couldn’t help thinking the youngster had a point. I replied “Well, in my day…… We didn’t have the internet. We weren’t so well informed. Our main global concern was nuclear weapons.” 

The COVID Chronicles – 11

Geneva, 9 January, 2021


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It would have been difficult to imagine when I posted the tenth, pre-christmas Chronicles, that the pandemic news could get worse. Well, it has. I always try to remain upbeat writing here but it’s difficult in the face of surges of COVID-19 cases in many countries, new lockdowns, new variants of the coronavirus and, most worrisome, the possibility that one such variant might ultimately generate “vaccine escape” meaning that the current vaccines may be less effective. 

Snow on the ground prevents wintery golf and so, in search of something to give my flagging spirits a boost, I called in at Galerie Cimaise last week. I was confronted by some truly arresting images that somehow capture the times perfectly.

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“About Flying” is a collection of mesmerising, intriguing and exquisite photographs by one of Geneva’s high profile and most creative photographers, Aline Kundig. It is about the aftermath of beautiful things inevitably falling to pieces. It is a statement that anything delicate and ephemeral carries a potential for dislocation together with an innate resilience. As one critic noted, Aline’s butterflys are magnificent in their grotesque dismemberment(!) 

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Aline harbours a fascination for the interface of beauty and death. She insists that beauty can, and does, continue to live long after the soul has taken flight. With these images of shattered butterflies scattered on an entomologist’s light-board, she has somehow stolen the exotic butterfly show from the dusty drawers of the collectors and the classifiers of dead insects. I am sure that if, after the last shutter-click, Aline had blown her butterfly bits off the light-board she would have seen them remain airborne and even reassemble in butterflight. 

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The backstory is telling. Aline has had a year full of grief. Determined to come face-to-face with her woes, she ordered dead butterflies on-line from specialist butterfly farms all over the world. They arrived carefully packed and completely in tact. She then tore them apart and crushed them letting the pieces fall on the light board. “This was a wonderful thing to do!” she told me. “It was therapeutic!” 

Since speaking to Aline, a right-wing mob has taken over the Capitol in Washington DC. Guns were drawn. Shots were fired. Five people died. Congressmen and congresswomen hid under their seats. Offices were looted. The National Guard was called out. The blame is laid at the President’s feet.

Aline did not give titles to her broken butterfly images. For the three above, I might suggest “Democracy,” “Truth” and “Respect.” 

The COVID Chronicles – 10

Geneva, 25 December, 2020


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Yes, it’s come to this…. Home-made Christmas cards! My golfing friends may – or may not – appreciate my little contribution to seasonal cheer. But then, I guess right now, we need all the cheer we can get.

It was Christmas day of 1981; not long after beginning my first job after qualifying as a doctor. I was on-call for the surgical wards at Addenbrookes Hospital in Cambridge. The staff nurse called me to say that one of our patients recovering from surgery – let’s call her Maisie – had an irregular heart beat. I went up to see her; her bed was empty. Maisie, a good old Fenland character, was clearly not bothered. I found her in the TV room glued to the BBC’s newest production of the nativity. “Hello, Maisie” I said, “Nurse wants me to check your heart beat. I’ll just do a test. Is that all right?” Maisie kept her eyes on the screen. “Whatever you say, doctor! But coz I can’t go to church like what I usually do, I want to watch the nativity.” I untangled the wires of the ward’s electrocardiogram, applied the pads to Maisie’s wrists and ankles and switched the machine on. I glanced at the TV; a tired and obviously pregnant Mary rode a donkey; Joseph walked alongside. “Are you enjoying the nativity there, Maisie?” I asked. “Oooh, it’s lovely!” she replied. The electrical impulses of her heart beat appeared regular and normal on the small screen; obviously, any irregular beats had been transient. Nevertheless, I thought I would let the ECG run for a minute or so. “Who’s that?” Maisie asked pointing a gnarled finger at the screen. “That’s Mary and her betrothed, Joseph. And it looks like Mary’s pregnant, Maisie!” We both chuckled. “And she was a virgin!” I added. For the first time, she looked up at me. A question was clearly forming in her mind. “Good catholic girl was she?” She cackled. “Well, I’m not sure they had catholics in those days!” I said. “When was this then?” Maisie asked. I wasn’t sure whether she was pulling my leg. “Well, Jesus was born one thousand, nine hundred and eighty-one years ago, Maisie.” Her eyebrows raised. “Oooh! And, what…. on Christmas day?” Her heart beat remained steady and regular. “Poor Jesus. I’d hate that!” she continued. “I got a nephew who was born on Christmas day and he only gets one lotta presents each year coz everyone does his Christmas present and birthday present together. Thats’s real cheap, I say!” Maisie, it seemed, was not pulling my leg. After scenes of shepherds and kings truckin’ along, the viewer was taken through a jolly busy way-side inn and into a stable. Mary was lying in some straw and well into her labour. A close-up of Joseph’s face revealed no little agitation. “Oooh! The anxious father!” exclaimed Maisie. I said nothing. Soon, Mary was crying out in pain clearly about to deliver. Maisie’s mouth hung open. Her heart rate, whilst still regular, had now picked up somewhat. Turning to me with eye’s wide in wonder, she asked “Do you think it’ll be a little boy or a little girl?”

Few young docs end up where they thought they would. In 1981, I was wondering if I had what it takes to become a consultant vascular surgeon. I went on to get a surgical qualification but abandoned ship (the UK’s National Health Service) to work for a number of years as a field surgeon for the International Committee of the Red Cross. I then became the medical adviser to the ICRC on issues relating to violence and weapons; a role in which I inevitably found myself in the domain of international mechanisms preventing the development, production and use of chemical and biological weapons. In the mid-1990s, I had the good fortune to meet a charming and brilliant American scientist by the name of Matt Meselson. (Matt together with Franklin Stahl performed what has been described as the “most beautiful experiment in biology.” After the double-helix structure of DNA had been proposed by Watson and Crick in 1953 , Meselson and Stahl, in 1958, established how DNA replicated itself.)

Matt dedicated a large part of his professional life to the scientific aspects of preventing the use of chemical and biological weapons and did probably more than anyone to promote within the scientific community the importance of the 1972 Biological Weapons Convention. He and I often engaged in discussions about the worrisome spectre of a whole new generation of microbes and toxins both natural and man-made. He was far-sighted. Finding ourselves in a workshop here in Geneva, we shook hands warmly. He said, “You know, Robin, we’ll see the day when we don’t shake hands anymore. We’ll be bumping elbows. It’s inevitable.” We’ve bumped elbows since. I am sure Matt would have wise counsel for the team investigating the origin of the virus responsible for the COVID-19 pandemic.

Us Brits have a quaint but important tradition at Christmas dinner: cracker jokes. These are written on little pieces of paper that fly out of the exploding Christmas cracker. The jokes are so bad that, when read out, they predictably generate a disappointed groan from everyone sitting around the turkey-laden table. The idea is that squabbling families stop squabbling for just a couple of minutes because they are all unconsciously united against the unknown author of the awful cracker joke. As PG Wodehouse would say, it’s about the psychology of the thing. So… Covid Cracker jokes…….. The year 2020 has been awful. It’ll end in tiers! (UK only!) .. or .. What does the Trump family do for Christmas dinner? They put on a superspread!

Merry Christmas everybody! But if you’re in Switzerland, no singing!

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Gotta love the Swiss! The above is from the government’s Covid info site

See y’all in 2021.