The protective gloves nobody wanted
22-March-2020
I just returned from a puzzling round-trip through central Oslo's emergency community. The trip started on my balcony, where among gardening tools there resides a box containing nearly one hundred protective vinyl gloves.
A short while ago Norwegian press and media were publishing news about an alarming shortage of 3.3 million pieces of protection gear for health and care workers in Norway fighting the coronavirus, a message which was widely distributed and re-posted. Since our balcony pots can be maintained well without the gloves I devided to donate them to the crisis forces.
My first try was the Grønland police headquaters - if anyone should welcome non-sterile gloves it could be the police. I found the police headquarters sealed for visitors. I got in contact with a receptionist through the door speakerphone and made my offer. "No thank you we don't need these!" he said. I went on, turning the police headquarter my back.
Next try: The central ambulance, Legevakt. I was met in front of the door by a man in full protection gear asking me what my health issues was. I offered the glove box to him. He thanked me with a barely recognizable smile from underneath his face protection mask and said that they had enough protective gloves. With a glance at my backpack with fishing rods he wished me a good catch. I wished him a calm day, and we parted.
Next station on my way to the seashore: The church mission's poor house where they feed the homeless. No one was there.
Finally passing by the night shelter for drug addicts, a risk group carrying many infections at all times and hit hard by Norway's puritan zero-help before you're clean drug policy. I decided if staff in this facility will have no use for gloves, then there was no shortage. I rang the doorbell and met the receptionist, showing the glove box. He thanked me or the offer with a friendly and happy smile - but declined due to sufficent supply with gloves.
The glove box went back to the balcony waiting for the gardening project to get going after a relaxing afternoon tying to fish for flounders from the cliffs of Ulvøya island.
I just returned from a puzzling round-trip through central Oslo's emergency community. The trip started on my balcony, where among gardening tools there resides a box containing nearly one hundred protective vinyl gloves.
My first try was the Grønland police headquaters - if anyone should welcome non-sterile gloves it could be the police. I found the police headquarters sealed for visitors. I got in contact with a receptionist through the door speakerphone and made my offer. "No thank you we don't need these!" he said. I went on, turning the police headquarter my back.
Next try: The central ambulance, Legevakt. I was met in front of the door by a man in full protection gear asking me what my health issues was. I offered the glove box to him. He thanked me with a barely recognizable smile from underneath his face protection mask and said that they had enough protective gloves. With a glance at my backpack with fishing rods he wished me a good catch. I wished him a calm day, and we parted.
Next station on my way to the seashore: The church mission's poor house where they feed the homeless. No one was there.
Finally passing by the night shelter for drug addicts, a risk group carrying many infections at all times and hit hard by Norway's puritan zero-help before you're clean drug policy. I decided if staff in this facility will have no use for gloves, then there was no shortage. I rang the doorbell and met the receptionist, showing the glove box. He thanked me or the offer with a friendly and happy smile - but declined due to sufficent supply with gloves.
The glove box went back to the balcony waiting for the gardening project to get going after a relaxing afternoon tying to fish for flounders from the cliffs of Ulvøya island.
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