“A colleague of mine died yesterday from Covid. You make sure you stay safe. Life is short. As soon as this is over we need to meet up. Take care man.”

I was caught off-guard when I received this message from a friend, last week. He was referring to Essex-based GP Habib Zaidi – one of the first doctors in the UK to die after contracting coronavirus. 

Things have changed a lot in General Practice in response to the pandemic. Early on, we switched to making more use of technology – before its wider adoption in the NHS and the government’s recommendation for working from home. The vast majority of GP consultations are now conducted remotely, via online forms, telephone or video calls. 

Despite dramatically reducing the number of patients we see in person, the fact remains that GPs – like all NHS and care workers – remain at greater risk of exposure to coronavirus than the general population. We still travel to work. Not all patients can be managed remotely, and some require face-to-face consultations. Worryingly, patients can have and pass on the virus without showing any symptoms. 

This would be less of a concern if the personal protective equipment (PPE) supplied to healthcare workers by NHS England were adequate. But it isn’t. According to the World Health Organisation (WHO), facemasks, gloves and aprons provide inadequate protection. Goggles (or face shields), together with long sleeve gowns, are also necessary. To make matters worse, the facemasks we’ve been given have had their original 2016 expiration date concealed. 

Healthcare workers and their households are not only inadequately protected physically from coronavirus, but also financially. A significant proportion of us – GPs included – do not have permanent contracts or NHS pensions. This means that many who have to self-isolate (either because we develop symptoms of Covid-19 ourselves, or because a household member does) are not offered sick pay. And if we die from coronavirus, we will not receive a death-in-service benefit.

Nor are we currently being tested if we have symptoms; so many of us are forced to stay at home for two weeks, even though we may not actually have coronavirus. By failing to provide priority testing for NHS and care workers (and their symptomatic household members), this government is unnecessarily depleting the NHS workforce at a time when we could be doing our job and caring for patients in need. 

In spite of adversity and government negligence, people are coming together in solidarity to support our work. A local school science department have kindly donated their goggles to our general practice. Volunteers have set up a mutual aid group to support our most vulnerable citizens. And a bike shop is working with them, dedicating their staff and bikes to deliver essential supplies, food and medicines. 

That’s the thing about coronavirus. It has reminded us that we’re all human, vulnerable, and reliant on one another for our wellbeing. As we enter the most challenging period of the UK epidemic, with doctors having to make difficult decisions due to a lack of sufficient critical care beds and breathing support, and people restricted to observing the funerals of loved ones from home, we will need to draw on this support from our families, friends, and neighbours more than ever.  

We are a resilient people. We’ve survived crises in the past, and come out of them stronger, more compassionate, and more united as a nation. Long after Covid-19 has come and gone, we’ll need to build a stronger resistance to government defunding and privatisation of public services. We can draw hope and inspiration from the broad, diverse coalitions that are currently forming in our communities. They need to be nurtured, because they provide models for a better society; one that restores agency and resources to local communities to make decisions for themselves.