Daisy loading up Dumbo with our first NHS Responder client’s shopping.
The morning after the Government announced the NHS Responder scheme for the Covid-19 crisis, 25 March, Janie and I both signed up for it.
Even before the Government scheme, we had joined the local community volunteering network, but it was clear that, apart from a bit of help for older/isolating neighbours that we (Janie) pretty much would have done anyway, there’s far more supply than demand in Noddyland.
My NHS Responder application was accepted very quickly (27th March), whereas Janie had to wait quite a few more days before her application was accepted. Clearly my bona fides for such matters simply shone through my application, whereas Janie’s needed more thorough checking.
Then the waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
We knew the initiative had got started to some extent, because Cathy Driscoll, wife of my old school pal Paul, had been a Daily Telegraph poster child (somewhat to her chagrin) for the pilot launch in the first half of April.
Anyway, Janie was especially keen that we do something and started investigating charity options, hence the valuable and rewarding work we have been doing with FoodCycle:
We’ve now done several gigs for FoodCycle and intend to do more.
But until very recently, silence from NHS Responder.
The thing that seems to have changed is the fact that we can now play tennis and are going through West Ealing to Boston Manor and back to do that.
On Monday (18th), our NHS Responder alarms went off just as we were leaving the tennis courts. That potential gig turned out to be a false alarm, as the gentleman we called told us that neighbours were helping him regularly and he didn’t need any other help at the moment. I suspect that he has been set up on the system for a weekly call just in case the neighbours let him down.
The next day, Janie’s responder went off while I was driving us back from the tennis courts. This time, there was a real need for a woman with suspected Covid-19 who cannot do her own shopping at the moment.
“OMG, what do we do now?” we both thought, having steeped ourselves in the instructions/protocols back in early April, but having done other stuff under other protocols since then.
Fortunately, the “NHS Respondee” woman didn’t want a rapid response – indeed she even suggested that we might leave it until the next day as she hadn’t yet composed her shopping list, so we had time to go home, freshen up, mug up and return to the client to collect her instructions and fulfil the gig an hour or two later.
The list looked extensive to me with a few luxury items on it and she had furnished us with a mere £40 for the shop. I thought we’d have to leave some items out.
Her instructions were explicit, although it proved to be like a bit of a treasure hunt to find the exact outlets she wanted us to use for the exact products that she gets at those exact prices.
This is not our world and it was eye-opening.
Of course, our client knew what everything cost so her £40 was almost but not entirely exhausted and we managed to get all of the items.
She seemed like a very nice woman and was extremely grateful and pleased when we got to the end of it.
And of course NHS Responder alerts are like buses – you wait for ages and ages and then two come along at the same time. The alarm went off again while we were doing that gig in West Ealing.
I guess the lesson is that there is more volunteer supply than demand in West Acton, whereas in West Ealing there is more demand than supply.
I suspect we’ll see some more action if we keep playing tennis down at Boston Manor – all the more reason to go there.
