Many thanks to the various readers who got in touch over last week’s column on coming down with Covid. Particular thanks to those readers who were kind enough to send me good wishes and wish me a speedy recovery. A fraction less thanks to those who were slightly more dismissive, equating Coronavirus with the common cold or having a stubbed toe.

Ah, the never-ending bravery of the keyboard warrior. Those frontline soldiers of the culture war, courageously doing their bit by lobbing their barbs and brickbats from behind the Internet trench of pseudonyms and anonymity.

All I can say is that if you really are suggesting that the pandemic is no more serious than a stubbed toe, then you must be one of the lucky ones. Lucky that none of your friends and family have succumbed to this terrible disease. Lucky to know of no one who has ended up in hospital. Lucky that you know nobody suffering from taste or smell or memory loss, or any of the other legacies of long Covid. I hope that this good fortune bestowed on you and yours continues.

I can only offer you my own experience of the last week, and it wasn’t much fun. I’m in my late forties, and as discussed in recent columns have recently dieted to get myself down to a healthy weight. I’m reasonably fit thanks to plenty of cycling, as I may also have previously mentioned. Fully vaccinated, I was expecting to be back at my desk in no time.

In fact, Covid hit me much harder than I’d anticipated. I can’t remember the last time I spent three days in bed, much of it asleep. I can’t remember the last time I had such a high temperature I lost five pounds in the process. I can’t remember the last time I went for a short walk and had to stop through a tightness in my chest. So yes, just like stubbing your toe.

I spent the original lockdowns with my family, with all the joys of home schooling and living on top of each other that entailed. This time, I was by myself, self-isolating for the full five days recommended by the government. I got a glimpse of what the lockdown must have been like for those living alone. It says something when the highlight of your week was the arrival of the online supermarket delivery.

In fact, the lady from Sainsbury’s was the only visitor I had. As she unloaded my shopping at a safe distance, she told me that the number of people she was delivering to who were self-isolating was much higher than during lockdown.

Normality, perhaps, is not quite there yet.