There’s nothing like kicking a state when it’s down

More than 700 Victorians are dead now, and the numbers are still rising. Yet here we are, still at the bottom of a relentless pile-on.

A lone man outside Melbourne’s deserted Luna Park as curfew approaches on September 10. Picture: Getty

Let’s play the futile “if only” game.

If only the national borders were shut when they should have been shut, instead of when it was too late. If only the Ruby Princess hadn’t been allowed to unload passengers. If only infected Australian citizens from all over the world hadn’t come home. If only someone in a Melbourne quarantine hotel hadn’t fallen ill, and passed the virus on. And if only the contact tracing app that the federal government paid a motza for, actually worked.

If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

Here are a few nasty revelations, made plain of late.

• Living regionally can be dangerous, because a state government might deny you access to the nearest big hospital, if it is across a border.

• This is not a free country — the federal government can prevent you from going overseas.

• If you are overseas, you cannot assume you will be allowed to come home — the government can prevent you from entering your own country.

• If quarantine is required, ordinary people suffer inhumane and often disgusting imprisonment, but movie stars, football players and the wealthy can luxuriate in special arrangements.

• Even in a pandemic, caused by the most successful virus in a century, there are those who will always bring politics into every situation, and insist on scoring points, even when it cruelly drives people who are already hurting, further into the ground.

More than 700 Victorians are dead now, and the numbers are still rising. Yet here we are, still at the bottom of a relentless pile-on.

Our greatest sin? The second wave. A direct result of, if the narrative is believed, electing the wrong state government. For this, Victorians have been shouted at, non-stop. Sure, the government made terrible mistakes. We expect improvement, and it is coming.

Yet we are called “dumb” by TV hosts and laughed at for having “Stockholm syndrome”. A federal politician has sighed and said our troubles are “what happens when you elect a Labor government”.

The narrative is clear — we are getting what we deserve because we elected “Chairman Dan”, who has visited the “Dandemic” on us, and the state of Victoria is finished, for good.

We are a drag on the economic recovery, and to remedy this, commentators on television talk about “sending in the army in to sack Daniel Andrews”. Our scientific and medical community are the subject of ignorant derision. Our Chief Health Officer was called a “clown” this week, by an ex-politician turned Sky news contributor.

Despite all this, a Roy Morgan poll released on Thursday, showed 70 per cent of us approve of the wayAndrews is handling his job.

The public health team of contact tracers, who were overwhelmed by the second wave, have been ridiculed. The latest “bombshell” — the use of pens and paper, whiteboards and fax machines; concrete evidence they are cretins and Luddites. Yet whiteboards, pens and paper are standard tools in the profession.

Epidemiologist Jennie Musto said recently it was faster to plot infection maps on a whiteboard than on a computer. “Large street maps are also helpful,” said Musto, the war zone disease detective in charge of the NSW “gold standard” of tracing. “You could actually just visualise the spread of the virus. Mapping just helps me see what’s going on.”

Fax machines are used within the Victorian contact tracing team simply because many GPs still use them and so do public hospitals. If fax machines were not used, it would be irresponsible, and they are merely one form of communication employed.

The furore this week over the Premier’s road map has been deafening, too. For some time now, many people, including me, had been asking for a plan, to give us certainty. That arrived, last weekend. There are plenty of reasons not to like it, but still, we got what we asked for.

The Prime Minister didn’t like the plan, because it didn’t give people hope. Scott Morrison is an optimist, who believes in miracles. Our Premier is not cut from the same cloth.

The criticism over the design of the plan will pale into insignificance against the devastation that will occur if a third wave overwhelms this state.

The hard truth is that, in the absence of a miracle, there is nothing but hard work, sacrifice and pain. And as for hope? Well, in a crisis, the best hope that anyone can have is that the people responsible for leading them are capable, and will do what is required.

Vociferous prosecution of imperfection is of no help or comfort, especially when inaccurate.

In my life, I have found that time is the greatest leveller. Hubris, smugness, unkindness — time will bring it all undone. As each day ends, the shrill condemnation from the loudest voices fades with the light. Humiliation is replaced with gratitude. The virus will come and go, and when it is gone, we will still live in Victoria. This happy thought takes us to our bed, where we sink into the silence of our hope.