It won’t come for you. This is the general message about coronavirus, as the UK prepares for the outbreak to possibly worsen. Read the many media reports and a common line comes out: “Most people recover, and fatalities are largely only among those with underlying health conditions.” It is a sentiment I have heard constantly in recent days, supposedly as a form of reassurance. It’s understandable: facts are vital to establish in a climate where myths can spread as quickly as the virus, and the World Health Organization has made it clear that younger and healthy people are much less vulnerable to serious harm. But it does raisethe question: what about the rest of us?
The message that coronavirus is relatively safe for 98% of the population isn’t exactly reassuring if you fall into the other 2%. As someone with a respiratory condition, I’ve had to laugh each time I’ve heard it. Intentional or not, phrases such as “only the long-term sick are dying” come across as somewhat flippant about – or even accepting of – the risk to millions of people with heart problems, asthma or diabetes. In a culture where ableism (prejudice against disabled people) is rife, there’s a natural concern about framing a pandemic in the belief that disabled people’s lives aren’t as valuable as everyone else’s.
This isn’t just symbolic – it has practical ramifications. If the wider public is complacent about the virus harming disabled and older people, they’re less likely to be vigilant of their responsibility to help contain it, through simple measures such as regular hand-washing. This goes for the medical profession, too. Early reports warned that the “weakest NHS patients” could be denied lifesaving support if ventilators need to be rationed in the event of a severe coronavirus outbreak.
Meanwhile, a leading former nurse has stated a coronavirus pandemic “would be quite useful” in clearing “bed-blockers”, because older people “would be taken out of the system” (she later said her comments were “ironic”).
The UK government, for its part, has launched a large-scale public advice campaign on coronavirus, with adverts informing people on how to protect themselves set to appear on social media, in newspapers, on television and on billboards – but there has notably been very little information so far about what to do if you fall into a high-risk group. Disability and health charities, such as Asthma UK, Macmillan Cancer Support and the Cystic Fibrosis Trust report an increase in calls from disabled people who are concerned about the virus.
Meanwhile, ad hoc support networks are springing up around the country for older vulnerable people who are already self-isolating. With limited information from official avenues, some people who are immuno-compromised are turning to social media, even setting up online chats to share strategies on how to stay safe.
Instead of overlooking us, the government has a duty to put disabled and chronically ill people at the heart of its thinking on coronavirus. Public health crises are not equal-opportunity events: the poorest, most marginalised and disabled are generally worst affected, while the wealthy, connected and healthy are able to cushion themselves.
Take ministers’ so-called social distancing strategy, which will kick in if the virus continues to spread across the country. There’s a privilege to being able to cut yourself off from the world – be it being able to afford the cost of extra heating during the day, having enough disposable income to stockpile food and medicine, or having a job you can do at home (or indeed one that provides sick pay if you’re not there). Poverty and poor health are strongly linked, meaning it’s highly likely that the very people who may need to self-isolate to protect themselves will be the ones who find it hardest to do so. Put it this way: avoiding public spaces such as supermarkets is all well and good if you can afford regular Ocado deliveries, but not if you’re relying on a food bank to eat. This gets even worse when you consider that food banks are running out of staples as a result of panic buying.
Social care is another key area. It is already cash-strapped and critically understaffed, and there are fears an outbreak will see care workers out of action en masse. With so few options, officials are said to be investigating whether criminal records checks need to be loosened to fill vacancies left by sick carers.
Disabled and older people who rely on social care can’t self-isolate if they rely on carers coming to their home to help them dress, wash and eat. This presents those who need care with an impossible choice between protecting their own lives through isolation versus needing to see people to help them live.
As yet another breaking news banner flashes across our screens, disabled and older people deserve to be reassured that their wellbeing is a priority. The coronavirus response can’t be survival of the fittest.
• Frances Ryan is a Guardian columnist. Her book, Crippled: Austerity and the Demonisation of Disabled People, is out on audiobook now
