Do you have the Corona? (London)

 

I was waiting for a bus in Stamford Hill in north London when I was seized by a sneezing fit.

    I’m allergic to almost everything under the sun, except (thankfully) dogs and cats.  It is mid-April now, so the pollens are out (flower pollen now, later tree and grass).

   There was just one other person at the bus stop: a man in his 40s (I think), in side ringlets and a big furry hat.  He asked me, “Do you have the Corona?”  (Yes, those were his very words.)

    Apart from the fact that he ought to know it’s the pollen season, did he actually think I’d be physically well enough to be running around if I had Covid, never mind so irresponsible?

    I was so taken aback I could only say it was the chill in the air, forgetting even the hay fever bit.  (My brain is very slow when it comes to potential confrontation, unless it’s friendly repartee.)

    When he got on the bus after me, the man stayed by the driver, close to the front door, after I’d moved right inside.

    In hindsight, I should’ve replied, “Yes!”, just to see his reaction. 

(London, 2025)

Tripped up by Sir Stamford Raffles (UK)

(This blog is inspired by photos of two RI [Raffles Institution] classmates taken with Sir Stamford Raffles:  one with Lay Geok laying her hand on his left shoulder; one with Yee Jing standing by him, copying his typical arms-across-the-chest pose.  How chummy, I said.  [Yes, yes, it was only a statue, so he had no choice... — I mean Raffles having no choice about Lay Geok and Yee Jing doing a chummy pose with him... hee hee hee.])

One summer (1980? 1981?), I was cycling with two friends from one place in north London (Golders Green, a predominantly Jewish area) to another place in north London (Mill Hill East).

    After leaving a busy road and entering a totally deserted side road, Michael and Valerio whizzed ahead down the long slope (which then went uphill) towards Mill Hill East.

    With my bad hay fever, I thought I should give my nose a quick wipe/blow before tackling that long (down, then up) slope.  

    I normally use my left hand to wipe/blow my nose, so with my right hand, I gave the brake lever what I thought was a little squeeze to slow down while I quickly wiped/blew my nose.  

    Unfortunately, it was more than a little squeeze.  

    The right-hand brake lever controls the front wheel, so the next thing was:  I was catapulted over the handlebars and ended up lying there in the (fortunately empty) road, dazed — until my friends came back for me after I failed to show up.

    There was a church right there, where I had my accident, so we went in to get some first aid.

    I saw them decorating the church for some commemoration of Stamford Raffles!  When I asked why they were commemorating him, the answer was, “He’s buried here in the churchyard!”

    I went to check it out — yep, he’s there.

    That quiet road in Hendon (area near Golders Green) leading to Mill Hill East is not one I’d normally take.  Spook factor 1.

    It was chosen by Michael because he was living in Golders Green at the time.  It was his idea to cycle to Mill Hill East and to get there down that totally deserted road.  London is so big.  Why did he choose Mill Hill East and why that route?!?  Spook factor 2.  

    That road was totally deserted, with no cars or pedestrians around to cause my accident.  Yet, I had to get myself catapulted over the handlebars doing something as minor as wiping/blowing my nose.  Spook factor 3.

    And why right there, just outside the church?!?  Not earlier, not later.  Spook factor 4.

    I believe to this day that it was he, Sir Stamford Raffles, founder of Singapore, and founder of Raffles Institution where I’d spent two unique-experience Pre-U years, who’d stuck out a foot/leg to trip me up, “You’re not going to cycle past without dropping in to say hello!”

(London, 1980? 1981?)

(i) https://www.nlb.gov.sg/main/article-detail?cmsuuid=64b03f60-837e-4565-b26d-d7c12d7ed8a4

Quote 

Raffles was buried in the Hendon parish church. No memorial tablets was permitted to be set up for Raffles until 1887. The location of the grave had been lost until accidentally discovered in April 1914 in a vault beneath the church. 

Unquote 

(ii) https://hansard.parliament.uk/commons/1912-04-02/debates/6b759e35-28bf-4ae8-9ccd-492371c694e1/HendonParishChurch(GraveOfSirTStamfordRaffles) 

Hendon Parish Church (Grave Of Sir T Stamford Raffles)

Volume 36: debated on Tuesday 2 April 1912

 

(iii) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Mary%27s_Church,_Hendon 

Injections

A friend was talking about his acupuncture session: that the needle felt like a nail going in.  This reminds me of my own experience.

    One year, I got myself organised early enough (November) to get my hay fever jabs arranged at the GP’s.  I’d always missed it until it was too late (season had started), so I was proud of myself.  The pack of 6 duly arrived at the GP’s.  The lady doctor (Dutch, I think) said, upon opening it, “Oh, the needles are so big! I’m sorry this is going to hurt.”  My reaction when it comes to jabs is to want it over ASAP, so the last thing I want is to have my attention drawn to it. She then said it again when she was actually doing the injection, apologising that it was going to hurt. The same thing happened again for Visits 2 and 3. I never finished the course.

    When I tried to donate blood on a regular basis in the 2000s, my first visit was an agonising one with the person taking ages and being unable to find a vein in the crook of my left arm, then going for the right arm but it was so small that they didn’t fill a whole bag within the time limit.  The regular blood donation idea was abandoned after the same thing happened all over again in a second visit.

(London)