Covid-19 – Week two: beginning 16/03/2020
Our way of living, of being, of society has been turned upside down. Yesterday everything seemed sort of normal. Yet, today has brought social distancing measures that stop non-essential meetings of all types. So, no Slimming World classes, fitness, or Scout meetings. Selfishly, all I can think about is how I can keep my new lifestyle without the support of my Slimming World Group, exercise classes and social contact with friends and family.
Lunch time brings me perspective, I open my emails and a pang of guilt washes over me, we are going to have to let our young people down – no Scouts this week! How had I not thought about how this would affect anyone else?
In the office, all the focus is on other colleagues and by others, I mean me. My humorous colleagues are predicting a 2020 baby boom and hinting that I might start off the baby fever! Let’s just stop there, give me time, I am a newly engaged woman: I only asked my partner to marry me on the leap year, a few weeks ago. So, please let us celebrate the news first, let it all sink in. And no, you can’t come to the wedding, well that is what I would be saying if we did get hitched under present circumstances.
While my mind is elsewhere. I have aged before my time, you all know what I mean? You know those lovely scaly hands we are all developing, maybe evolution will make us closer to our reptile friends. But seriously it’s just a bit of dried hands. That’s it, we should call it the dried hands pandemic. I’m not serious though, this is a serious pandemic effecting the old and the young, but for those of us fit and well are surely still aloud to have a sense of humour?
Lucky for me, it’s Wednesday and today I am trialling homeworking, that ought to stop me washing my hands quite as much. However, from the off, I know this is not going to be the most productive day. I feel so unsure of myself. I am unsure what task to do next. Unsure if I should email, video call or start a chat window to contact colleagues. We are onto what feels like readjustment one hundred of my workstation. Then there is the silence, my music is helping a little, I am not sure I want to admit to missing the background chatter of the office – but what else could it be? Could my mental wellbeing really be being affected already by the lack of social contact?
But I was, am and will be video chatting to be people all day. Here is problem one, it is exhausting interacting virtually, trying to read social cues and I am not a fan of looking at myself on screen either. Problem two, virtual meetings just cannot fill the void of not being in the office and seeing people. Problem three, if you spend all day in video meetings you cannot get your work completed. Therefore, maybe it is just my sense of achievement dwindling and I am not useless.
So, I am listing what I have delivered, on paper it is an achievement. Therefore, the change is easy, I just need to start by writing my top three deliverables for the day and tasks for the week, then take time to review these: I can totally adapt. Truth be told I am also missing the dog, but I have decided to leave her at my parents while I ‘trial’ homeworking for the day, if it becomes a regular thing I’ve talked about bringing her over next week for the days I am homeworking. The plan is changing by the hour as Wednesday unfolds.
Yet, what started today as a trial has become within a day my normal way of working. ‘What a difference a day makes’, such an annoying saying, but true. In one day, homeworking had gone from recommended to enforced for non-essential staff. It is getting hard to keep track of what is going on. However, I am excited and am planning out what I’ll need to build my home office.
This week the government have promised to keep to the daily updates at 17:00 with the public. These daily updates from the government have become ones of rising mortality figures, spreading news of isolation, further restrictions, and death. Tea-time each day is bad news o’clock; all day I am anticipating more awful news. Honestly, at this point I think the Prime Minster could announce ‘jumping jacks every day’ and I would not bat an eye at the new policy. So, when they announce the schools are shutting on Friday, I think good, protect the young people and staff – I’ll come back to this point later.
Day two, working from home, it feels so weird, uncertain of myself and what to do. I am so tired and trying to keep routine. I exercised and showered then had time to spare. Maybe a walk or –
I decide to reach out to a friend with children, who I know is having a tough time, and who is also running late this morning, so I offer them a lift. Three stops later and I feel good, a sense of purpose. I had as a Scout would say ‘done my good turn for the day’ and a little selfishly engaged in social time.
Sat at my desk in the dining room I open my video chat eagerly and start my day with my key deliverables list. It is soon past my normal lunch time. I re-play my morning: a few video calls with the team, emails, updating plans and a competitor’s webinar, recording my findings for market research. So why is it I feel like I haven’t achieved anything?
I go out for a walk at midday to get some fresh air, focusing on being present and taking in my surroundings. Maybe not so much of the funeral gathering outside the church, but the flowers in bloom, a vibrant red door, graves. Okay so I end up in the cemetery for my walk, but I am enjoying reading the names on the graves, even you must admit there are some unusual names out there? Maybe I’ll rethink location tomorrow.
On return I enjoy a baked potato, salad, tuna, and beans, so it’s a double tick for my personal goal of keeping healthy and active. The afternoon is flying over. On reflection job well done, deliverables achieved! So why then have the feelings from the morning lingered?
We watch the prime minister update for nearly an hour doom and gloom. Numbers of cases increasing especially in London, deaths increasing, you must follow the medical advice. Then ‘uplifting’ conversations about a future roll out of a blood test to see if you have had the virus – and that helps us now? But with records of British firms closing, redundancies and employees panicking about pay, what are the government really doing? Meeting daily and giving an update to the public of the situation and telling us to wash our hands. Come on prime minister! But at least he is keeping to his promise, answering daily questions, and giving an update – with a hint this could end up remotely. He is optimistic, which is refreshing, hoping we can turn the tide in 12 weeks. Yet, in the same breath saying there is a three-week lag time to see the effects of measures (excuse for no further action) and the curve of cases is increasing at present. We are all in it for the long haul that is for sure.
Then it’s onto the webinar for our Scout Group’s contingency plan, but who from my leaders is thinking Scouting? With childcare mayhem, home schooling, working from home and social distancing: needless to say, I’m not surprised when only my partner and a close friend who is also a leader join the call. Right now, as my friend said, ‘people have bigger fish to fry’. Right now, I would love a greasy fish and chips with batter, mushy peas, tomato ketchup and a buttery bread bun. Nom.
As the night went on, my partner in crime and I bit at each other throughout the evening, nothing major, just little things trying our patience with each other. We make up and agree that these extraordinary times must be getting to us too. Anyway, time to switch off peeps. On a school night, I know weird I still call it that, you can continue as normal…bring on the junk telly.
Finally, Fri-yay is here, and I have made the decision to think more positively. Local news on and after the usual corona news, there is talk of the spring equinox and warmer weather – I can totally stay positive. It doesn’t last, in Leeds a toilet roll delivery needed a police escort. In Manchester, a shop is shut due to over-crowding. Finally, front line workers aren’t able to get fresh food due to others stripping the shelves. While on fake news, the alternative I would have preferred to have watched: chimpanzees in Leeds are having a toilet roll party; in Manchester, a party in a supermarket is shut down for wild behaviour; finally, front line workers shop till they drop and choose a much deserved greasy take out.
A successful morning in the home office and then just popping into the ‘real’ office. A long-missed commute to get some much-needed documents from work. Just popping in I thought, last trip to the office, final drive to another city in what could be a long time. The buildings are shutting come Sunday! But I make the most of the trip and it is nice to catch up with a few colleagues – even if it is at a distance.
Today is also a memorable day for thousands of children across the nation. The last day of school has arrived – ‘school is out for summer… shut forever’ as the song goes, but honestly it is shutting until who knows when. For some children today is their last day of school. A big milestone that has come a term early and without much warning. Good luck to all the children, young people, adults, and people of all ages out there, it is going to be a new world next week. The stuff of dreams for kids, but the reality as they wake first thing Monday will be a mixed one. These are crazy, challenging changing times we live in.
You know the world has gone mad when your hairdresser comes running out and chases you down the street as you approach before your appointment. I should add it is to warn me to come back a bit later, as he is trying to leave gaps between clients. In the ‘new climate’, being early is rude and leads people to chase you down the street. Only joking, my hairdresser is only thinking of our best interests. I am onto a weekend win kept safe by social distancing measures and fabulous hair success.
We go shopping at a wholesaler, no judging it isn’t to stock up, but rather to see if we can get the products nowhere else has (mainly toilet roll – good luck there then). After queuing to get in, at the entrance people are told ‘you must have a trolley’ a very clever measure to help social distance. All around the shop are signs saying, ‘One only of each product’. As we peruse the different aisles a gentleman rams into my side with his trolley as a woman nearly rams me on the other side, while not paying any attention talking away on her phone. I am literally sandwiched between trollies; well I can’t help myself; I lose it.
“If one more person rams me with a trolley, this is not social distancing, it is just rude,” I said in my most stern, I am pissed off voice.
A man close by chuckles and then I smile too as the hilarity of the situation dawns on me. It is my shopper rage that normally resurfaces for Christmas. Needless to say, we don’t get any toilet roll.
But we do get my friends favourite treat from the wholesales and as she lives locally are dropping it off. We don’t stop long – I wish we had, as I might not see her in person again for a long while. However, it was nice to drop in, to see the progress she has made since we had joined the work crew last weekend decorating her house, building furniture, and having a great catch up. But as we drive home, I know she is not the only person I am missing and pining to see.
Mothering Sunday has arrived, I am nostalgic for years gone by, with past family gatherings running around in my head. While, Mam’s, Mums, Nans and Grans the world over await visitors loaded with gifts and cards. Well not for my Nan, Gran, or Mam. My late Nan is up in heaven. Gran, on the other hand, is very much alive, but has been self-isolating since the start of March, even before the announcement came for over 70s to self-isolate. Although I feel sad at what feels like an eternity since I last saw my Gran and Pops in person. I know I have gone longer, like when I travelled to the states for a semester during University. However, lucky for us, even in her 80s Gran has embraced technology and social media so we can see and chat to Gran and my Pops. We will just have to spoil Gran with treats when measures get more relaxed and we come out of the current pandemic.
Mam on the other hand, is not feeling well and in the current climate, we decide to drop off roses, chocs, and bath bubbles for her to enjoy with her weekly shopping on Saturday. I know we talk most days and I see her through the back door when we make the weekly food delivery, but I can’t help the tears that come to my eyes. I miss my Mam and Dad. I miss cuddling them on arrival, catching up and sitting for hours in each other’s company. But I remind myself this is not forever. I am lucky – no really I am. I still have my Mam, who has braved her way through a few illnesses in her time so far. Then there is the stark reality that as I am here complaining, my fiancé’s Mam and Dad are over 70 miles away, over an hour and a half drive and definitely over what we can call an essential outing. I can see my Mam in person, although it may be at a distance and for a short period of time. My Mam’s health and isolation in the house has given us the opportunity to see each other during this pandemic and for that I am thankful.
So, it really is a Mother’s Day with no mothers. However, ‘you must let the people you love know it, for this is what it is to be alive’. So I pick up the phone and call my Mam and treasure the sound of her voice. However, as I hang up, I still think how odd it will sound in the future to say: ‘I didn’t visit my Mam, who lives 20 minutes away, on Mother’s Day.’
It was also a day where we enjoyed supporting a friend and Scout parent by watching his online sermon. With recorded services being streamed online from many local churches: it’s lovely to see the public coming together from their homes. Although, maybe some precaution to be taken as I saw on the news, one Vicar in Plymouth set his sleeve on fire while he said, ‘we pause for Gods answer’. I think his answer is clear, but I’ll let you get imaginative here with what God said – but before your mind runs away with you, I do believe in God. However, I think even God has a sense of humour and he wants us to stay in the light. So, let’s keep positive, after all one vicar vividly added another meaning to the song ‘Relight My Fire’.
