Strange days

Strange days have found us 
Strange days have tracked us down 
They're going to destroy
 Our casual joys
 We shall go on playing
 Or find a new town
(The Doors)

After the apocalyptic events of Thursday night, things returned to normal (or, at least, what passes for 'normal' in these days of Corona). Every evening we listen to two or three hours of news which update us regarding the number of ill people in Israel and the latest instructions for containing the disease. I went into work as usual on Sunday and Monday - there aren't many people there and anyway, most of my time I spend almost in isolation in my 'office' which is like a cubicle. Schools were closed from Friday.

As opposed to the weekend, the weather was spring-like (or even summer-like), so as soon as I got home at 4:45 (no travelling this week!), I would change my shoes and shirt in order to take the dog for a long walk. It's rare to see people on my route, so I was continuing my isolation even though I was out of the house. The news in the evening showed crowded streets in Tel Aviv as well as crowded beaches: this captured our leaders' ire. As it appears that young, gregarious, people are the main spreaders of Covid-19 (or Corona, as it is known here), even though they aren't the ones becoming ill, having them in large concentrations is the complete opposite of the 'social distancing' which the Ministry of Health is trying to create.

On Monday I participated in a video conference: we now have software which enables peer to peer conferencing, as opposed to the 'client server' software which we had been using with special projectors. As a result, six or seven people connected up: most of the time there were only four active windows with two being hidden, although I think that everyone was visible at first. Another surreal event in increasingly surreal times. We were discussing (as we do every week) changes which are to be made to the factory in Karmiel; the biggest change is the installation of two huge 'nesting' machines which perform a variety of tasks connected with wood. These machines are being supplied by a company in Italy ... with whom all contact has been lost. It is clear that there will be a three month moratorium on these machines, if not longer.

On Monday evening, there was an announcement that manufacturing companies should have a maximum of 30% of their workers present at any site, so I decided to work from home on Tuesday. I had an appointment for a specialist doctor in the morning so I could save a journey. At about 8am, someone phoned to say that the CEO had called for a 10:30 am meeting; we assumed that this would be another video conferencing call so I said that I would come to the factory at 10 am, set up the computer and stay for part of the meeting, then go to my appointment. At about 9 am, the electricity went off in our building - the electricians and gardeners were cleaning up the mess left from the gales of Thursday night - so I went into work an hour earlier.

The 'meeting' was by phone, not video, so my preparations were worthless. The CEO was asking all the various department heads how we can organise ourselves in order to meet both the demands of public health and those of our customers - mainly organisations. One would imagine that most of our customers are in exactly the same position as we are and are cutting down their operations, so receiving office furniture is probably not high on their list of priorities. All 'computerised' personnel will work from home and the factories will work two shifts with the minimum number of people working each shift (30% of a given site's personnel can be on site at any given time, so 30% will work one shift, 30% will work another shift, those that can will work from home, and those that can't will be sent on unpaid leave). National Insurance has pledged to pay 70% of the salary (up to 10,000 NIS) of workers set on unpaid leave so they won't be too disadvantaged (I wonder what happens about contributions to pension funds and similar).

I had to leave in the middle of the meeting (I wasn't actually invited and it dealt with matters which don't directly concern me) in order to drive to the clinic in Bet Shemesh. I had called a few days beforehand in order to verify that the appointment would take place - I wouldn't have been surprised had it been cancelled. There were a few receptionists in place, wearing masks, but no customers. The appointment had been set up in the first place because I noticed several months ago that I had a lump on my neck - I assumed that this was a subcutaneous sebaceous cyst. Whilst this has to be treated, it's not important (unless it gets infected) so I wasn't bothered about making an appointment in January to be seen in March. The masked doctor agreed with my diagnosis; I assumed that he would write up the examination then suggest that I make another appointment to have the cyst removed. But no, he took me to the next room, which is like a small operating theatre which is where I have had most of my previous BCCs and cysts removed. There was another doctor there who felt the lump and agreed as to its provenance. I went to make the appointment to have the cyst removed and was surprised to be handed a piece of paper which said that the appointment was for now. "Why wait when you're already here?" asked the receptionist. Well, Corona ....

Back I went to the operating room; after an unexplained wait (I could hear the doctor chatting to one of the nurses in Russian), I was called in and the procedure took place. I think that the doctor's shift didn't start until 12 am which is why I had to wait about ten minutes. During the time that I was on the table, the weather changed: from sunny it turned to rain, and since then it's been raining on and off, sometimes heavily and sometimes lightly. 28.7 mm fell by 8 am this morning, which is quite a fair amount. It also rained on and off on Saturday, and at one stage I found myself composing the beginning of a tune whose first line is "I like (love?) to listen to the rain" - I think this is going to be minimalistic as I couldn't develop the tune very much. At the moment it has a very big range - from G below middle C, a note which I can't reach in a dependable manner, to B above middle C, in other words an octave and a half. We'll see.....

Anyway, I now have a plaster on my neck, covering a slightly painful wound. I can take the large plaster off this evening and wash; not having a plaster will improve the flexibility of my skin and reduce the rigidity that I feel.

Today (Wednesday) I am of course working from home. I was busy for a few hours, but now things have settled down and I'm on standby.