Хроники самоизоляции: инфекционное (En)

Yes, but what about shopping, you may ask? Well, I say, that it was a fail today.

Long story short: usually we go for major shopping once per week to our large supermarkets, Sainsbury’s or M&S, and occasionally buy a few basic supplies in our Co-op/Tesco/Sainsbury’s next door. Today we decided to be a bit different and to go to a large Waitrose, which is slightly further away, but since we’ve been there once already and liked the experience, we thought that it would be nice to go back and to indulge ourselves a bit more with their specialties.

Boy, was it a bad decision. It certainly was.

The weather was incredibly pleasant (honestly, I find this radiant spring with madly blooming tulips, lilacs and wisteria a bit of a mockery given the current circumstances: at least, we have the right to go out for a bit, which feels like a special treat every time), our way to the shop was as picturesque as an image of a chocolate house on a gift box with the best biscuits, we didn’t meet that many people on the way, just the usual cyclists and joggers, and we anticipated to look at the fishmonger stall at the shop.

So, we arrived. There was a queue, like at the first time, and all people were standing quite far away from each other, keeping social distancing and minding their own business. The queue was moving fairly quickly—yet again, like before—we were chatting, joking etc.

And then THAT happened.

We hadn’t spotted her at first—a slim middle-aged woman (I guess she was middle-aged: as she was wearing a mask, everything about her appearance is pure speculation) in a trench-coat and a beret. She was coughing. Man, she was coughing constantly, endlessly, and her cough was dry and deep. I don’t want to make any other assumptions, but now, reproducing the whole picture in my head, I think that she was shivering a bit (fever then?).

She was standing 12-15 metres from us, right before the man who was the next in front of us in the queue. L. and I looked at each other: we seemingly understood each other without words. Two young women, who were standing behind us and chatting as well, stopped and also looked at the coughing woman and then at us. The man in front of us (and behind her by approximately six metres) also gave her an anxious look and then turned away from her.

We all were freaking out. “Wait, what?” one of the young women said. “She is bloody ill! What on earth is she doing here?” Good question, bro. I felt like my heart was pumping. L. was calm yet pale. Meanwhile, our queue was approaching the Waitrose doors, the guy in front of us changed his mind and went away promptly, and the woman, continuing her coughing business, sneaked in. She didn’t give a damn about any reactions.

The guard at the doors waved at us and invited inside. “We cannot go,” I said. He looked at me with confusion. One of the young women behind us added, “We can’t go, because there was a woman who seemingly is feeling poorly, and she’s coughing constantly. I don’t think it’s safe to us to go.” All the queue behind us nodded: only at that moment I noticed that there were a lot of people who came after us, and all of them looked scared. The guard asked us how she looked, and we gave him basic details. He called another guard, and they started discussing the situation. Things were about to escalate, and I told L. that I don’t want to go in, simply because I am scared and I don’t want to bump into her. He agreed with me. The young women behind us gave up their shopping as well. And so did other people in the queue.

I have no idea whether they caught her or not. I hope they did, although I have no clue what exactly they could tell her? That she is (potentially) a walking virus bomb? They she disrupted the work of a whole supermarket because she decided it’s a good thing to go out and about whilst ill? I don’t know, man.

But let me tell you one thing: I don’t feel any sympathy for this woman and to her condition. She lives in Cambridge: if she’s alone and has no friends, she could definitely apply for help from volunteers, and they would bring all she needs to her door. Yet she didn’t do that, but instead decided to walk out and potentially infect dozens of people, because bloody masks don’t help if someone coughs their lungs off.

I guess we made the right move, deciding not to go in: I hate to think about all possible damages and risks we were exposed to. Thanks to this coughing rag, the rest of the day was spoiled, and I am praying not to catch anything from her. Let’s hope everything will be fine.