WE STOOD outside our homes, secure in lockdown, fearful of the virus but consoled by the knowledge that if we were unlucky enough to get ill, if we did have to take our aged relation to hospital, the NHS was there to look after us.

The NHS will carry the can. It takes care, medicates, washes, ventilates, it does it all.

And what are we asked to do in return? Not a lot. Wash hands, cover face, make space.

We have very short memories. Back in May, after a mere two months of country-wide restrictions, as soon as we got the opportunity to relax, we cautiously let our guard down. Encouraged to get ‘back to work’ and ‘eat out’, we quickly reverted to normal. House parties, foreign holidays, street parties, the ‘new normal’ wasn’t so bad after all. Then schools returned and university students arrived.

We were warned to be careful, to take care. We were alerted to a second wave, but we didn’t take heed. Where are we now? Facing a tsunami. Lockdowns and restrictions imposed again; businesses closing, education disrupted, jobs lost.

But what of the NHS, the angels we clapped for? Those who save our lives. What are they facing? Self-sacrificing, overworked nurses, paramedics, doctors have not yet recovered from the pressures of the first wave. Having worked at pace over the summer to deal with the growing backlog of non-Covid cases, now as the second wave intensifies, wards are filling up, ventilator use increasing, and workload is once more spiralling higher.

Staff are becoming sick themselves. Whole teams are self-isolating. A dreadful number have died. The pressure on remaining staff is extreme and the winter has not even started.

So what can we do? What should we do?

Not go to house parties, don’t get on a plane to the sunshine, and don’t complain.

Take care of the NHS by taking personal responsibility. Don’t clap. Don’t wash your hands of the NHS. Just follow the rules.