
Looking back, I was almost as cavalier about Covid-19 as Boris Johnson. I didn’t exactly think it was OK to go around shaking hands with everyone, but I was well behind the curve. I remember saying to a colleague at BBC Radio 2, “I just want things to be normal.” He’s the sort of person who hates to contradict his boss, but he looked me straight in the eye and said, “But Phil, things aren’t normal.”
That evening the Prime Minister announced the start of lockdown, and the next morning I woke up with a fever, dry cough and searing headache. I confidently thought I’d be better in five days, but the nightmare was just beginning. Each week the symptoms got worse. Friends have subsequently asked what it was like having Covid-19. It really did feel, as if in a science fiction novel, as though there was something inside my body trying to kill me. By the end of week three, I remember thinking: “If this steps up again, I may not survive.”