Paracetamol just isn't going to cut it

We all love the NHS. We all rely on it. We all have amazing and positive stories to tell.

But we all know its flaws.

We tend not to talk about them too much because we’re grateful for the amazing concept that lies behind the service.

The whole system is a phenomenal slice of socialism. It says we can turn up at a doctor’s surgery or hospital and get treated for free, regardless of who we are or how much money we have.

Although there are other ways of organising universal healthcare provision – we can see some of them in parts of continental Europe, for instance – there is something incredibly comforting and efficient about the British state service.

But it is time to get real.

If the NHS is prepared for the forthcoming coronavirus epidemic, I’m a trapeze artist at Billy Smart’s Circus.

The government will tell you that we are battle ready, but surveys of people who actually work in the service will tell you categorically we are not.

It’s not just a question of the cash crisis and the limited number of beds, although it’s undeniable that the system is creaking and underfunded and will struggle to cope with excess demand.

It’s fundamentally an issue of British culture.

In the UK, we tend to think that things will work themselves out somehow or other.

This coronavirus can’t really be that bad, can it? It’s a bit like the flu. It’s probably a fuss about nothing.

We are full of homespun wisdom.

Catch it and kill it.

Bag it and bin it.

See it. Say it. Sorted.

Sing the national anthem as you wash your hands.

Two times happy birthday.

But this is not a bug that is going to respect our birthday wishes. If we’re to defeat it, we’re going to have to get serious.

The draconian Chinese regime tried to silence a doctor who first raised the alarm about Covid-19 and lost control of the virus. It was a major error which showed the weakness in the political system. But, boy, have they have recovered in an extraordinary manner. In Wuhan - the sprawling city west of Shanghai that was the epicentre of the original outbreak – the authorities actually appear to have turned a corner.

How exactly did they do it?

Well, they built two new hospitals within a month for starters, a feat that would be impossible pretty much anywhere else in the world and utterly beyond the comprehension of anyone in London or Manchester. In doing so, they clearly had a sense of the scale of the problem they were likely to encounter. They were going to have cope with thousands of people who needed hospitalisation.

And where exactly are these people going to be accommodated in the UK?  You don’t know the answer. I don’t know the answer.  And surveys of NHS staff suggest that no one working with in the hospital system knows the answer either.

Aircraft hangars? Requisitioned hotels? Schools that have sent the kids home until the end of term?

There could be secret plans that are being held back for fear of causing alarm. But this is the UK. I suspect there aren’t. We’ll be thinking it couldn’t really be like China here. Things will work themselves out.

The mantra is that people should ‘self-isolate’ – a nonsense phrase that is surely destined for the dictionary as the neologism of 2020.

We self-isolate if we’ve come back from a holiday in a corona-hit area. We self-isolate if we’ve come into contact with a suspected carrier.

But what if the corona-hit area is now somewhere in the UK?  What if the carrier is someone on the tube?

The Department of Health has handily decided not to tell us in real time where cases are emerging. It’s complete amateur hour.

In Daegu, South Korea, citizens receive texts when they enter an area where a case has been confirmed. The messages even inform them that someone who tested positive has visited a local bar or club.

But in the UK, it’s 111 and self-isolation and paracetamol and Netflix.

How do I know if I should be quarantining myself?

I’ve been skiing in Northern Italy? Defos.

I went to a conference where someone told me they’d been skiing in Northern Italy? Errr… maybe.

Someone coughed over me on the train? Perhaps I should head home rather than go to the office.  (The fear of an HR professional I spoke to recently? Everyone will soon be ‘self-isolating’.)

But was self-isolation a big thing in Hubei province? Look at the pictures coming out of China and South Korea.

Biohazard suits. Spraying of streets and shopping malls with corona-killing disinfectants.

Let’s face it. If moonsuited squads of bug-busters paraded through Westfield in Shepherd’s Bush, Londoners would be tut-tutting and asking when Carphone Warehouse was going to reopen. (I mean, the coronavirus is a worry, but I’m due an upgrade and had my eye on an iPhone 11.)

There is nothing a Brit wants more than day-to-day life to continue as normal. Infections and respirators and makeshift wards are things that happen in other places.

An old friend visited a major teaching hospital outside London today. She was there for an eye appointment, but encountered people coughing, sneezing and wiping their hands across their faces. Touching the furniture. No happy birthdays or national anthems. Then going into consultations with medical staff. Zero information visible on Covid-19. Medics looking understandably nervy.

We pray for the best, but know that this bug is already causing severe economic disruption. We are just weeks away from Covid-19 potentially bringing the country to standstill entirely.

What if the Chinese strategy turns out to be the only way to defeat the virus? And what if Britain is completely unable to embrace or deliver it?