A mini-blog/reflective journal, from a self-confessed air-head.
Looking forward by looking back -- my diary from the early days of the Covid-19 crisis
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| Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash |
(Note: if TL;DR for you, please skip to the final 3 and a little bit paragraphs.)
🖉 January 2020
In late 2019/early 2020, a cluster of pneumonia cases of unknown cause in China became known to the World Health Organisation. At that time there had been no deaths. By half way through January, this was becoming widely known as the 'novel coronavirus' and there was at least one death from the virus being reported in the media.
As I understand it, the reason the virus would turn out to be so virulent and dangerous is that it was one which was transmitted from wildlife to humankind for the first time at this time, and as such the human immune system was totally unfamiliar with it; our systems didn’t even know to react to it as an intruder, let alone have any immunity or antibodies it could readily deploy against it.
Although there was still talk around this time about containment of the virus outbreak, the first case of the novel coronavirus outside of China was confirmed on 13 January 2020 (in Thailand, and Japan & South Korea also confirmed cases at around this time).
The first confirmed case of the virus in the USA was in mid-late January (on around the 21st) in Washington State. The man was in his 30s, but had returned from a trip to Wuhan in China.
The risk level from Public Health England was raised from very low, to low in mid-late January[i].
By the end of January, it was known that the novel coronavirus was a global threat to human health, numbers of cases in China having risen by thousands; the WHO declared a global health emergency and the UK raised the risk from low to moderate[w]. There had been over two hundred deaths from the virus, and there were now just shy of ten thousand cases worldwide.
The population of Wuhan (over 11 million) was cut off by Chinese authorities with forms of transit being cancelled. In the region of 100,00 had already departed from the train station alone.
The first patients in the UK tested positive around this time; on February 2nd the first death outside of China from the virus was reported, a 44 year old man in the Philippines.
The virus was named COVID-19 on 11 February 2020 by WHO. The following day the UN activated the WHO-led Crisis Management Team. The death toll in China had reached in excess of a thousand, and there were almost forty five thousand cases there (with nearly four hundred in the rest ot the world). New regulations began to be announced, granting new powers to authorities in relation to the containment of the virus.
Things began to move quite quickly here in the UK, or at least it started to seem that way. One morning on the way to work I noticed a headline on someone else's newspaper indicating there were 4 cases here; by the afternoon colleagues in the office
were speaking about there being 8 or 9. I recall feeling the first stab of anxiety, but then I recalled that those cases were further north, not down here in the South and I so managed to assuage my own burgeoning fears for a while.
February 2020
I'm not someone who watches the news or reads the paper, not even the free one on the train, not even if I've forgotten both a book and my phone -- not for some years; I banned myself for the sake of my mental health as I find it too depressing. I tend to get my news from overheard conversations of colleagues at work (and if I'm interested in a topic I'll look it up online to find out more).
But quite a bit of Covid-19 talk had evidently filtered through into my consciousness despite this. Because on 14 February I attended a Climate Strike & contracted a common cold and in a few days, when the cold had turned itself from a tickly cough to a chesty one, it dawned on me that, if by chance I HAD been exposed to Covid-19, I'd been attending work for several days and potentially exposing my colleagues there to it. So I called 111, who put me thru to Public Health England. I needed to be reassured that I couldn't have exposed my colleagues (at least one of whom is a very poorly person at the best of times) and subsequently our clients to this thing. I'd known it was fairly unlikely, but there were dozens and dozens of people at the strike, and I'd no way of knowing whether any of them had returned from travelling. On top of that, I'd participated in a litter pick in the park at the close of the strike, handling equipment which had been in who knew whose hands, and stirring up items of litter dropped by, again, who knew who. And on top of THAT, I'd gone for coffee with a handful of other climate strikers I'd met that day and when one of them was served my mocha in error I wasn't able to catch her up at the table with her hot chocolate in time to prevent her from taking a large sip of my drink. I'd spun the cup around before drinking my mocha from the other side of it, of course, but still...
Public Health England reassured me; I just had a cold. And I recall passing on that reassurance to others I spoke to about it.
By 17 February 2020 the WHO issued guidance, based on lessons from H1N1 and Ebola, around mass gathering and travellers who were ill with the virus (or suspected of having been exposed to the virus). Terms such as self-isolation began to become commonplace. The authorities seemed to be carefully avoiding the term quarantine.
By 21 February 2020 WHO was warning that the window of opportunity to contain the virus was shrinking. However, it appears to have been thought that the likely location for the spread of the virus would be Africa, as 11,000 African health workers had been trained up on Covid-19 over the preceding month.
In late February, it was revealed that transmission of the virus had taken place here in the UK, it was no longer contained among only people who'd recently returned from travelling overseas.
For some time I kept telling myself there was nothing to worry about -- okay, there were cases of the virus here in the UK now, but they'd started somewhere up north, so it was alright. Okay, there's a confirmed case in the next county over, but that's still not that close, so it's alright. Okay, so there's a case in Hampshire now, but Hampshire's a fairly big place, it'll be alright.
I had a wobble when I learned there was a case at a 6th form college, about a ten minute walk from my work place (and, in fact, it was my friend's workplace -- my friend who'd been giving me lifts to and from work for a good chunk of the preceding couple of weeks). But somehow I managed to stick my head in the proverbial sand, even despite the first death from the virus here in England, which was quickly followed by four more.
I wanted to believe the message the government was putting out, that this thing was mostly only a threat to the very old, or those with pre-existing lung health conditions -- why wouldn’t I want to believe that?
Early-mid March 2020
On 11 March the seriousness of the threat of this outbreak really hit me; I came across a few YouTube items late that evening, immediately prior to retiring. And made the mistake of watching one or two of them. Prior to this I'd been going about life as per usual and hoping for the best. Overnight 11 March into 12 March I had terrible insomnia (worse than usual), ruminating incessantly about coronavirus and the possibility of dying from it, or family and friends -- I can't even write the words. Coincidentally, 11 March was the day it was officially announced as a pandemic, though I didn't find this out until later.
Life was changing. People were wearing face masks to go out, the streets were emptying of people but filling up with litter; there was sensationalist reporting of ice rinks being used as make-shift morgues and images of emboldened wildlife encroaching into cities (though these latter may've later been debunked, I believe).
It began to feel like something out of some apocalyptic sci-fi movie, like Twelve Monkeys or something.
I managed to get a grip on the anxiety for a while at least, and when my swimming buddy advised me on the evening of the 12th that chlorine neutralises the virus I was persuaded to go for what would turn out to be our last swim for some time.
Another friend and I later went ahead with a planned trip to Avebury on Saturday 14 March, too, though various of the museums were understaffed and therefore closed at the time. I felt a little guilty going to Avebury, like we shouldn't be out in public for fear of spreading the virus unknowingly. But I also knew it could be the last chance of an outing for some time (and apart from our cup of tea in the pub before setting off home, we kept our distance from others quite successfully - we would have in the pub, too, but for my friend's lost earring back and the overzealous gent who stepped in to try to help us find it).
In the week commencing 16 March they began making preparations for us to work from home, much to my relief. I concentrated my efforts on getting as much finished up in the office as possible to facilitate digital working from home. I worked a few late evenings during this week, but doing so helped me to put my anxiety onto the backburner. I heard about the panic buying and stock-piling which was taking place amongst sections of the populace. I confined myself, initially, to buying one or two additional dry items each time I was in a shop, and a single carton of UHT milk.
At some point my anxiety resurged, and this time I spent a couple of days all but convinced it was the end of civilisation. I placed an online order for nearly £200 worth of groceries, almost three times what we'd normally spend (though we later reduced this down to just over £100 worth, prior to delivery). I started small scale 'prep-ing'; refilling 5 litre water bottles from the tap & storing them, placing an order for vacuum packed meals which last 6 months in the cupboard. Locking the door earlier, and being choosy which windows were opened for fresh air in the day. Tying my hair up out anyone's reach when I went outdoors, even just to the bins or to put the milk-bottles out. Learned a recipe for making oat milk out of oats. I was spending money recklessly, too, as though it was no longer any point having any savings because there might not be an opportunity to enjoy or make use of them. (Well, this was spending recklessly for me, anyways.)
On Thursday 19 March I had my last regular train commute home from work for the duration of the lockdown; staying late at work was actually a good move, as it meant the late train home was far less crowded and it was easier to keep the recommended 2 metres distant from others. On Friday 20 March I spent at least four fifths of my day standing at the scanner to ensure I had everything available digitally, and yet I still had a ream of paper to carry home in the briefcase. The knuckles on my left hand bled, today, from the damage of repeated hand washing and being too busy to apply any soothing lotion.
The atmosphere in the office became borderline hysterical. The noise of coronavirus chatter was incessant, I literally felt I couldn't hear myself think. Colleagues returned from lunch breaks with reports of what felt like a rapidly deteriorating situation. One said there was no soap to be bought anywhere in the town (though I later found that out to be an exaggeration, when the shop right next to our office still had two packs on the shelves). Another said there was no feminine sanitary protection, and she was outraged. A third reported there'd been a "run on the cash machines", and this was the one that really chilled me to my bones as that felt like the kind of activity which can precipitate financial (and hence social?) collapse.
My final journey home from work the afternoon of 20 March was surreal, though my friend gave me a lift as was quite usual for a Friday. I had my usual rucksack style handbag, the briefcase stuffed into another larger backpack and a shopping bad (oh and a pot plant). I tightly knotted my hair up on my head and had my attack alarm at the ready, having seen headlines reporting there'd been muggings over toilet rolls. I arrived earlier than my friend at our meeting place, and waited anxiously for her without daring to have my phone in my hand to pass the time with a puzzle game. Getting home and especially knowing I wouldn't have to journey to work again in the foreseeable future was very much a relief.
Late March-early April
It was my first day working from home on Monday 23 March. Took a little while to sort out the tech issues logging on to work systems from my own PC, despite having tested everything out the previous week, but could have been worse. Fewer interruptions from phone calls, but inundated by email messages. I wonder if this is how it's going to be throughout lockdown.
I'm not sure how I managed to have office drama despite not being in the office! There's a dispute about whether an SMS text message circulating around is genuinely from the goverment or if it's a scam.
Happily, my friend was prepared to defy the rules just a little and meet up out on the garden wall for a cup of tea (brought from our own homes, each) and a chat. It was strange to sit there, feeling furtive, glancing at every passing car in case it was a police car and every passing pedestrian in case it was a beat copper (not that any of those generally venture into our area even in ordinary circumstances).
I can't recall exactly when it went from from a suggestion to stay home to an instruction to stay home, but for me it came as a huge relief that I wasn't going to be expected to return to commuting to the office by train again anytime soon.
We'd been expecting it, but were nevertheless disappointed when we heard that the comicon we had tickets for in mid-May was cancelled, especially my husband. We'll get a refund, and we hadn't actually got as far as booking the hotel room yet so there's only the one reimbursement to look out for. But last year's had been our first of this sort, and we'd been really looking forward to going again and getting more involved in that social circle. Can't be helped, of course, but yet another example of how the year 2020 has been put totally on hold by this thing.
27 March -- Prime Minister Boris Johnson confirmed to have tested positive, apparently. And him with, apparently, a pregnant girlfriend, from what I understand from colleagues.
Saturday 28 March -- I went over the road to feed the semi-stray cat (my first excursion outdoors, other than the front garden, since quarantine). I felt a distinct sense of anxiety when another pedestrian passed by on the pavement, despite their having a face covering on, and me being stood in the gutter. They were the only other person I saw out there, though, in something like the space of a half hour I'd guess. Later I participated in quarantine karaoke via Discord software. I sang Big Yellow Taxi and Pink Floyd's On the Turning Away (because I can never miss an oppurtinity to try to convey my environmental message and some social commentary) and then later I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor.
I realised we'd missed Mothering Sunday, and hadn't sent my Mum so much as a card, so I adopted a tiger for her via WWF. It'll be a week or so before her welcome pack arrives with her. I hope it makes up somewhat for forgetting about her. I'll give her a call, too, and let her and Dad know that I love them - something I don't say nearly often enough.
Wednesday 1 April -- today I ventured out of home, proper, for the first time since lockdown started. I took annual leave this afternoon and about 3pm I ventured to the pharmacy. There were possibly fewer people on the way up the road; but once on the main drag, you'd barely have known there was anything different about today compared with any other day. It was difficult to keep the prescribed 2 meters away from people -- numerous times I had to step into the road just to do so. I didn't feel compelled to shower when I got back indoors today, though, so I guess that's progress on the anxiety front.
Thursday 2 April -- spent almost all day (or so it seemed) on the phone with the doctors surgery and both Boots online and the local branch, trying to get my husband's prescription sorted due to a series of mix ups (unconnected from coronavirus, but I didn't need it on top of everything).
Friday 3 April -- back to the pharmacy again and to Superdrug to restock the hand sanitiser (2 bottles max. per customer). Proper social distancing this time thank goodness, with queuing outside of each shop before being allowed to enter. I didn't venture to the supermarket, and I'm glad I didn't need to because the queue outside went all the way down the road (with 2 metres between each person). I'm pretty sure I've developed a new cough, but I'm not sure it qualifies as 'continuous'. Could be psychosomatic knowing me, too.
Saturday 4 April -- we slept in late. I think I must have bordered on burning myself out by working such long hours this past couple of weeks, as today I was as tired as ever despite no commuting latterly.
Quarantine karaoke once again this evening, though, with a theme of 'Hope'. I sang On Top of the World by the Carpenters (and then Leave Me Alone by P!ink -- less of a hopeful number, but a catchy melody and a very bouncy tempo).
Sunday -- BoJo admitted to hospital, I heard. I wonder if he'll pull through. I dislike the man's politics, but I don't wish him any ill-will, and am kind of shocked by those of my friends who do. Also, I'm not sure it'd do the left any good if he were to die, as there's a danger he becomes some sort of martyr for the right.
Monday 6 April -- felt better today, and had quite a productive day of work. I don't know why the one care agency decided to leave it until they were down to their last incontinence wipe for the clients' before notifying us they needed restocked. It seems as though we're each going to be issued with our own corporate purchasing cards for just such situations, although finding retailers which actually have stock and are taking orders is another challenge.
Tuesday 7 April -- corporate purchasing card arrived. Also, travel 'papers', permitting me to travel to the office as a 'key-worker' (a letter from work to show to the police if I'm stopped at any point). It feels a bit like war-torn Europe or something, having to have and show papers to travel. I know that's not so, because I'm obviously not at risk of coming under heavy fire; but you can't help the thought from passing through your mind all the same.
Wednesday 8 April -- we received at work the first report of one of our clients having passed away from Covid-19, in intensive care. Not someone I knew personally, but still sad - and, one can't help but feel that this could be the first of many.
Apparently, we know at least five people with the virus because not only do two people from work seem to have it but my father-in-law and sister-in-law also believe they have or have had it and someone from our circle of friends believes they've had it (although, that may've been a cold). I'm grateful I can work from home, and have yet to need to venture into the office for anything. I'm even more grateful that I'm on my full pay, and not furloughed. I worry about the economy, though. We've had years and years of austerity and you just know they're going to do it again, after this. Even though public services cannot take it, and neither can the most vulnerable members of the public. 🖉
The diary ended here, with the above paragraph, in terms of full entries, rather than just scrappy notes. It's long, and not that eventful I guess. I'm lucky enough not to have been infected with the virus or had to struggle to manage on 80% of my salary or had to remain isolated at home alone. Nor anything catastrophic. My heart goes out to all those people who've been in that position over the past year, and to the bereaved.
Happily, one of the things I'm glad to have learned out of this whole experience is that civilisation isn't quite as fragile as horror films and disaster movies would have us believe. The crisis wasn't handled well by most governments around the world (and it's highlighted a lot of inequality, which it's probably high time was spotlighted). But, we've yet to collapse into complete societal breakdown to date.
And whilst I'm steeling myself for a great deal of demonstrating and protesting the next wave of austerity the government are sure to impose (it's already known that we, in public services, are having our pay frozen), we do at least have a few things which we can look forward to in the not-too-distant future. Things such as meals out with family (and if I'm lucky, and maybe if I volunteer to help make it happen, Pagan Pride in the summer).
I hope this post was of some interest to someone, somewhere.
I hope this post was of some interest to someone, somewhere.
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| Photo by Matt Seymour on Unsplash |
(Sources:
~ British Foreign Policy Group
https://bfpg.co.uk/2020/03/covid-19-timeline/
~ [i]The Independent Coronavirus: A timeline of how Britain went from ‘low risk’ to an unprecedented national shutdown.
https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/coronavirus-uk-timeline-deaths-cases-covid-19-nhs-social-distancing-a9416331.html
~ [w]Wikipedia 2020 coronavirus pandemic in the United Kingdom
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2020_coronavirus_pandemic_in_the_United_Kingdom
~ World Health Organisation
https://www.who.int/emergencies/diseases/novel-coronavirus-2019/events-as-they-happen)
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By the way, when I said that the shop next to my work still had 'two packs' of soap on the shelves, I should've said 'packets of 2' (there were at least 4 of them, so at least 8 bars still available at that time).
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