Behind the invisible shield: My lockdown experience

Jenny with her family  (Jewish News)
Jenny with her family (Jewish News)

March 2020. The scene opens with a middle-aged married mum of one sitting in a café pensively sipping a cappuccino.

She knows her life is about to change vastly and irreversibly.

For this day is the eve of lockdown in the UK. In the blink of an eye she would be under “house arrest”, re-enacting Hitchcock’s Rear Window (or in her case Office Window!).

Further down the line she would be feeling more like Groundhog Day (without Sonny and Cher!) and eventually “Psycho” (without the shower scene!).

Let’s flashback to over nine years ago. 9 February 2011 is a date etched indelibly into both the inner and outer recesses of my brain.

This was the day my husband underwent a liver transplant after an agonising 11 months on the waiting list.

Eight hours in surgery, three weeks in hospital and a few months of recuperation at home and he was as good as new!

Of course, he would have to take medication for the rest of his life to prevent his body from rejecting the liver and these pills would also suppress his immunity.

Let’s return to the gift that keeps on giving, otherwise known as the year 2020.

When I was younger, 2020 sounded like a mad futuristic dystopian epoque.

Little did I envisage that it would fulfil this prediction with the arrival of an invisible evil virus causing a terrifying pandemic throughout the globe. I often imagine the virus being covered in a pink fluorescent light – at least that way we could see the little bastard and run off when it darkens our gate!

Everything about corona was drenched in uncertainty – the only certain things in life were death, taxes and the constant noise from the builders constructing a block of flats opposite our house (because no poxy pandemic is going to stop a wealthy property magnate accumulating more wealth!).

At first, I didn’t really acknowledge the link between the transplant and this new enemy but gradually the realisation dawned that my husband would be considered “high risk” and “vulnerable” with regards to catching this virus. He was instructed by the government to shield for 12 weeks, to be reviewed at a later date.

This advice was completely impractical.

They suggested that the shielder should live in a separate part of the accommodation, not sharing kitchens, bathroom etc with the rest of the household.

As it happens, we don’t live in a mansion so we decided it would make sense if we all stayed in with my husband, that way we could at least be together during this long and unprecedented period.

My son’s GCSEs were cancelled – I must say I have never seen anyone so delighted!  We’ll never discover if he was actually going to start revising at some point!

Covid-19 facemasks (Photo by Mika Baumeister on Unsplash via Jewish News)

He received an email from his school saying: “You are entitled to feel somewhat robbed, of the expected final weeks of revision, of the adrenaline and focus of the exam hall…”.

I don’t believe he felt that way at all, although I appreciate that some students did. I suddenly felt apprehensive at the thought of being locked in with a teenager, envisaging months of moodiness and hostility. But he’s been a pleasure to reside with and was instrumental in introducing the daily 3pm family film viewing session which has provided us with a marvellous escape from our new reality.

At first, I didn’t really acknowledge the link between the transplant and this new enemy but gradually the realisation dawned that my husband would be considered “high risk” and “vulnerable” with regards to catching this virus. He was instructed by the government to shield for 12 weeks, to be reviewed at a later date.

In fact, he has enjoyed it so much that he is thinking of changing one of his A level options to Film Studies.

He and my husband have been listening to my husband’s vinyl collection in alphabetical order – I must stress it’s a very extensive collection so after months they are still only on Elvis Costello!

The new world introduced us to unfamiliar terminology including “zoom fatigue”, “covidiot” and, of course, “furlough”. As we couldn’t go to the shops, we were included on the priority list for supermarket delivery. This introduced us to the exciting game of supermarket Russian roulette – what bizarre substitutions would we receive this week? One week they replaced an Indian chilli snack with a bag of black-eyed beans. I saw that someone on Twitter had ordered Walkers sensations and received cat food instead!

Even receiving post could be dangerous. I developed a technique which involved using my husband’s Nordic walking poles to shift the post to the side and then waited three days before opening that batch of post.

At first it seemed so bizarre but soon it was just another “new normal”.

A British government letter urging people to stay at home
(Photo by Hello I’m Nik on Unsplash via Jewish News)

Certain things have helped me endure these difficult times: having a garden, having a spouse that does all the cooking (and very tasty it is!!), family board games, French psychological thrillers, Netflix, Jonathan Creek (yes, really) and, of course, contact with friends and family via a variety of electronic means.

My work has also been a godsend, I worked freelance anyway and neither the nature nor the frequency of my work has altered. Locked away in my home office I can focus all my attention on my work which is a glorious distraction from the current situation. Who would have thought tax and law publications could be such a saviour?!

The worst aspect was the uncertainty – my brain was boiling over with many unanswered questions: Will we be stuck at home until a vaccine is approved and what if that’s years away? Will my son have to miss starting sixth form in September? And, if he does start, will this subject my husband to considerable risk? Will I ever see my elderly parents (who live abroad) again?

My work has also been a godsend, I worked freelance anyway and neither the nature nor the frequency of my work has altered. Locked away in my home office I can focus all my attention on my work which is a glorious distraction from the current situation.

Then there were some extremely uncomfortable emotions including anger and bitterness.

I started feeling resentment towards those who were not shielding. They were free to exercise outdoors from day one so never really had a total lockdown in the same way the shielders did. That led to guilt over having those negative thoughts. And so the vicious cycle began…

Of course, I don’t want you to think I was attending a never-ending pity party for one. I know many people were in a truly terrible position. People were dying, others were losing loved ones, many were out of work, many had illnesses which were not being treated.

I started feeling resentment towards those who were not shielding. They were free to exercise outdoors from day one so never really had a total lockdown in the same way the shielders did. That led to guilt over having those negative thoughts. And so the vicious cycle began…

Despite the hell I felt I was in, at this current point I was safe, my family was safe, my job was secure and I had a roof over my head so there was much to be grateful for. I tried to practise gratitude as much as possible even though it often felt a chore.

In those early days of lockdown, I kidded myself into believing we were all in it together, all in the same boat. But however bad those early days were, the worst was yet to come. It wasn’t going into lockdown that broke me – it was 4 July that was the turning point. That was the day many of the restrictions were relaxed and non-shielders would really start to get their freedom back – leaving the rest of us feeling ever more isolated. Now there was talk of people going on holiday, visiting cafes, restaurants and pubs, even cinemas.

True, many people I know were adamant that it was too soon and were staying put for the time being, but I even envied the fact that they had a choice in the matter!

I saw a survey question entitled “How are you enjoying life after lockdown?”

They think it’s all over. It isn’t, not by a long shot.

I’m not going to criticise the government here, mainly because, once I start, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop! But I was surprised how much faith some people had in their advice which often seemed so random and, at times, contrary to the scientific advice.

They seem to think if all these places are open then the virus has somehow disappeared but of course this isn’t the case. I guess it comes down to how much you have to lose. If you believe you are healthy and no one in your close family is shielding then you might find it easy to take the risk.

But if any outing could result in your death or the death of a loved one then of course you will think twice.

The most recent letter we received from the government said that shielding could stop on 1 August – this feels like a random date plucked out of thin air.

Of course, they followed that up with “you should take particular care to minimise contact with others”.

My guess is what they are saying is that now the ball is entirely in your court – we abdicate all responsibility towards protecting you.

After three months, three weeks, five days and 14 and a half hours at home (other than taking occasional refuge in a friend’s garden), I finally ventured out to the park.

I felt alive, fearful, anxious, happy, disorientated, hopeful and a myriad of other emotions. It was wonderful to see other people milling around but they felt like virus transmitting enemies and I put great effort into dodging them if I sensed they were getting too close

. But that short outing was good for my soul – I wouldn’t feel confident repeating it too regularly but just knowing it was an option was of great comfort to me.

So, what happens now?

We continue to play the waiting game.

Waiting for a vaccine.

Waiting for the virus to magically disappear.

Waiting, hoping and daring to dream.

Living life vicariously through others until we can once again take up our cherished place in the world.

As I answered a friend who asked if I was free on Saturday night: “We’re free every Saturday night until the 15th of Vaccine”…

About the Author
Jenny is a freelance book editor focussing on law and tax publications, and who has supported her shielding husband during the lockdown.
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