For me, the Coronavirus lockdown in the UK is both a blessing and a problem.
I’m very aware that for very many people it is a nightmare. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be without food, money, and help. I can’t imagine how it must feel to have lost a loved one and not to have been there.
I know that I am extremely fortunate. I’m 72 and in the shielded category due to COPD. I haven’t lost my job, lost my income, had to work in a dangerous environment, had to risk my health in a supermarket or been affected by Covid 19 except to have to stay at home. I’ve had the company of my wife and the help of friends and neighbours to get shopping and prescriptions.
All the above is important because it puts into context the strange emotions I want to write about in my account of my experience.
I actually started social distancing before the Government advised it. I could see that I would be at greater risk so I stopped attending all meetings that I might otherwise go to, including U3A groups and trustee meetings of a charity where I am a trustee. I did still go shopping and looked on amazed as people loaded trolleys with tinned tomatoes and toilet rolls. I thought they were crazy, but my wife suggested we buy a few ready meals to freeze in case we became unwell and didn’t feel like cooking for a week. We had no idea then that, if we did catch the virus, we would probably become extremely ill and ready meals would be the last thing on our minds.
In lockdown I received a letter from the NHS, on 25th March, saying that I was in the extremely high-risk group and that I shouldn’t leave my home for any reason for 12 weeks. I had wondered if I would get the letter. I didn’t want to comply, but I was afraid not to. The letter also said that anyone living with me didn’t need to stay in the house provided we could sleep separately, use separate bathrooms (or deep clean the bathroom after each use), stay at least 2 metres apart at all times, use the kitchen separately and for me to eat meals in my room. We thought that would be intolerable for a long time, so my wife opted to follow my regime and not leave the house. We then quickly became stir crazy. We couldn’t stop looking at the future. 12 weeks of staying in the house was bleak but we realised the isolation for us was going to last much longer. Until I can be vaccinated it will be dangerous to get close to other people. In normal times we dance in a weekly group and it was very upsetting to realise we may not be able to take part when the group could restart.
Early in the lockdown we felt a desperate desire to see the sea. We live one and a half miles away from it and would often park in a beach car park, have a walk, and sit to simply watch the waves and the colours change. We decided to drive there and not get out of the car. As we approached the car park, we saw a policeman turning people away. We didn’t approach him, we just turned around and went home. That episode really hurt. It seemed to confirm all our bleakest thoughts.
So, to keep sane, we decided that it would be safe for us to walk along the lane where we live, because we could cross the road whenever anyone else came along. We make sure we don’t touch any surface, don’t get within 4 metres of anyone and so we have a bit of freedom. I did discuss this with my GP who was supportive. That was important to me because I felt guilty that I wasn’t following the NHS letter to the limit.
I have hated having to ask anyone for help. Somehow it touched a deep seated fear and a deep rooted feeling of inadequacy that I thought I had resolved years ago. Feelings or no, I had to ask for help because there was no safe choice about it. A friend offered and we were incredibly grateful. Since then we have managed to have weekly deliveries from our regular greengrocer, who also stocks many grocery items. Twice my wife managed to get Tesco click and collect slots and we decided she should take the risk. In fact the way Tesco organise things there is no more risk than having shopping delivered. We’ve since even managed to get a home delivery from Tesco. We usually shop in Sainsburys but for some reason we have been unable to get on the home delivery list even though they are prioritising people on the Government’s shielding database, which I’m on. We haven’t been able to talk to Sainsburys on their helpline because every time we’ve tried, they aren’t accepting calls. We’ve also been helped by a neighbour and the local volunteers.
I can’t express the sheer excitement and relief when we have got a slot at Tesco. Never would I have thought I could be so excited by such a mundane thing. I know we have people who will shop for us but the pleasure of being able to look at everything on sale is immense (instead of trying to remember everything when writing a list). I am not in any way dismissing the help from friends and neighbours and we are incredibly grateful for it. It’s amazing that shopping for food, which was once just a weekly chore, has become a highlight and a thrill. In one phone call with our son, who lives 200 miles from us, he mentioned he had been in three supermarkets. I felt so envious! What a treat that would be! How crazy!
Over the weeks we’ve been in lockdown our emotions have been on a roller coaster. We’ve felt depressed, anxious, philosophical, and grateful. Over time we have adjusted to our circumstances to the extent that it now seems normal not to have a social life in the flesh but merely online or by phone.
We have come to appreciate again the small pleasures in life. Tidying up our rear courtyard; sitting in the sunshine; re-reading treasured books; going for short walks along the lane and seeing the hedgerows burst forth with their Spring magnificence. Cornish hedgerows in Spring are a magical sight and to watch them unfold daily is a true pleasure.
My wife has lots of different craft projects on the go and I’m building a model railway. We have dedicated a room in our house for these pastimes and it’s lovely to sit together each absorbed but able to share our interest. We would be lost without each other. Words cannot express our love for each other, which remains strong and vital after 49 years.
One day my wife suddenly became nauseous and dizzy, unable to stand and with distressing noises in her head. She was shaking uncontrollably and looked extremely ill. I was so scared, and it was the weekend, so I rang 999. I was asked questions to ensure it wasn’t likely to be Covid 19. The paramedic who attended thought it was an inner ear problem but was concerned that her blood pressure was sky high.(She’s previously had two TIAs). After a long time and several measurements, it was still high, so it was decided to take her to hospital. The paramedic said that if she had a temperature, she would go into the Covid 19 part of the hospital no matter what appeared to be wrong with her. Fortunately, she didn’t have a temperature. I was told I couldn’t accompany her as no extra people were being allowed in. As I watched her going to the ambulance I crumbled inside. I stood on the doorstep and cried. Our next-door neighbour saw me and very kindly spoke to me through her open window. I also got a text from a neighbour two doors along asking if I was alright and offering help. The episode brought home to me the horror and anguish that someone would feel seeing their loved one being taken to hospital for Covid 19, knowing they may never see them again. That must be horrendous. For us, the outcome was much better. My wife was given an injection, told she probably had Meniere’s Disease and I was able to fetch her home. A course of tablets has removed the nausea and dizziness but there can be no investigations until things are more normal. And so, we have been able to resume our possibly mundane but actually quite idyllic lifestyle together.
I know I am fortunate. I know that I can stay safe and that I have no real worries. I have the love of a wonderful woman. While I believe I can enjoy life in an extended lockdown, which, for me, will probably last until Spring 2021 at least, I also look forward to the day when I can live life to the full again. I may be 72 and not in the best of health, but I reckon I’ve got quite a few years of living to do yet!