The week that London's swine flu got scary

12 April 2012

My husband has a bad cold. My daughter caught the bad cold. Sore throat, high temperature, racking cough: the usual. Or so we thought, until her friend's mother texted me a few days later. "Johnny has swine flu. Keep an eye on V."

V had spent the previous afternoon with Johnny. The following day, she'd been on a play-date with another three-year-old and his eight-year-old sister.

Aargh! Three-year-olds don't know to cover their mouths during a coughing fit. When they share toys, snacks or living space, such is the level of childish saliva exchanged that they may as well spend the afternoon French kissing.

Johnny had been diagnosed by a doctor, without taking swabs but by looking in his ears and throat. His symptoms were exactly the same as V's. Did this mean V has swine flu? Or merely the same cold as my husband?

Maybe my husband has swine flu. Maybe we all do. My nanny, who came to work ill and in tears because she felt too guilty not to, might have it also. She is at home now, in bed, with a raging sore throat and a temperature.

I feel fine but even if I didn't, I would have struggled in to work for the same reason as my nanny did: I don't feel I can take the time off.

What are we all doing? The correct response to swine flu is "I hope it doesn't kill me", not "I hope my boss doesn't kill me".

Yet too many of us are soldiering on, sticking to the plan, reluctant to take to bed because we feel our colleagues or employers can't afford our absence. So we take our kids to playgroup, where they spread germs with innocent abandon.

My sister-in-law, a teacher, is constantly in receipt of pupils who are clearly far too sick to be at school. "She's fine - just a sniffle," the parents insist. While all the mums of my acquaintance are genuinely mindful of the threat of swine flu, and act responsibly, there will always be others who don't.

Still, parents can't entirely be blamed for erring on the side of optimism rather than caution.

NHS guidelines are fuzzier than a toddler's teddy bear: by its own admission, many swine flu cases are mild. Even if diagnosed, it may already be too late for quarantine to be useful, since most victims are contagious for the first 48 hours.

My daughter was never heart-wrenchingly ill: hot, yes, but never off her food and never listless.

By the time I found out she had been exposed to swine flu, and might well have it, V had been ill for four days, and was feeling much better - as was Johnny, her afflicted friend.

London parents, ever stalwart, initially treated the virus with the same cavalier attitude as they would greet chickenpox. As recently as last week, people were talking about hosting "swine flu parties", in a bid to give their kids some early immunity.

That was before the tragic death of six-year-old Chloe Buckley. Now, parents are really scared. It's going to be a long, hot summer, only not in the carefree, sun-filled way that we originally hoped.

Ladyhawke goes local

Last weekend, a friend invited me to a festival. "It's on Swiss Cottage Green," she said. Since when did Swiss Cottage have a green?

An Odeon, yes, and a pub but no green. Still, off we trooped, me highly cynical about where we'd end up (a roundabout, perhaps). Lo and behold, there is indeed a green in Swiss Cottage: a small tract of land behind the leisure centre.

No matter that it's the size of a postage stamp: there were stalls, rides, face painting, bands and a fairground snaking up and down the surrounding pathways and streets.

This triumph of hope over space is one of the nicer things about living in London in summertime.

This weekend, Lovebox pitches up at Victoria Park: another innovative use of London's green spaces and a nice opportunity for locals to watch bands like Duran Duran and Ladyhawke without needing to pack a tent.

Let's practise what Jacko preached

I know it's naffer than white stilettos, but still, Man in the Mirror is the Michael Jackson song that comes up as "most played" on my iPod.

So I wasn't surprised that, out of the 11 Jackson songs still in the Top 40 this week, Man in the Mirror is the most popular, currently riding at No3.

Clearly, the entire British nation is as cloth-eared as I am.

When John Lennon died, nobody expected that Imagine would be the song that came to represent him: Working Class Hero would surely have been the critics' choice. But the critics are not the punters.

What is it with the British and schmaltzy lyrics? Altogether, now: "If you wanna make the world a better place / Take a look at yourself and make that change."

When money's tight, ditch the iPhone

"Life, it is very hard here. And it is getting harder," said my Kosovan cab driver mournfully.

"I send my wife and children back home for short holiday but me, I have to work. But there is not much work. Not much work at all. Money is very difficult."

Just as I was about to take my violin out and start playing a Boccherinian dirge, he broke off to answer his iPhone.

I recently looked into the possibility of getting an iPhone.

For who doesn't want to join in when everyone around them is brandishing their latest app and giggling complicitly at how funny it is to be able to display the word COCK in red LED?

But the cheapest tariff costs nearly £400 a year, so I desisted. Money is very difficult, yes, but as a signifier of poverty, surely an iPhone is right up there with Cristal.

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