Consider it a personal opinion of mine, but if there's one thing about this entire COVID situation that I feel hasn't been addressed very much (yet), it is the sense of Isolation that this virus brings.
Now, I don't mean (only) those who have been infected with the virus. They, of course, feel it more than anyone else- who wouldn't- when, after being confirmed of the virus in their systems, have had to deal with suited-up, stern-eyed masked medical personnel whisking them into designated isolation wards- and leaving them there.
The unspoken message is clear: YOU got the COVID-19. YOU are dangerous. So until you get this s*** out of your system, we're going to have see you as an (accidental) killer, therefore very sorry and all, but into Isolation (solitary confinement) you go, and please cooperate with us who are working hard to get this s*** out of you. Ah, in the meantime, here's a bunch of people who want to talk to you (and find out where you've been)
Having to be shut off from the world is no joke.
It isn't only the fact that physically you're feeling like s*** (fever, dry cough, sniffles and all), but it is also that you don't know what this thing is doing to your lungs, your organs and your body, you don't know how your family and loved ones are bearing up (do they have the virus or not) and with everyone's coping mechanisms being different, having two or more loved ones worrying about you, about themselves, and about the others in their lives, is definitely no pleasant situation at all.
Being a victim of the COVID-19 leaves the dominant feeling that you're shunned from the world, and that the world shuns you.
It is not a nice feeling.
However, as much as it is the victims of the virus who endure the Isolation and the Separation, let us also not forget their loved ones whom I think experience it more.
Let's look at it this way:
Your family member tells you he or she has got a bit of fever. It seems like a regular flu, but just to be safe, better get it checked out, so off you go together to the doctor downstairs (your usual GP) for the checkup, the MC and the medication. Now maybe on the way there, you start to wonder a little whether it is just a regular flu or not, but you tell yourself, no big deal, stay positive, everything will be fine.
Sadly it doesn't.
Something (the doctor says) doesn't feel right.
And so in a tornado of events- I don't really know how it plays out- in no matter of time you find your loved one being whisked away in an ambulance by personnel clad in protective suits from head to toe, you are told to go home and pack a bag, which you do- all alone, by yourself- and back in the house are the items your loved one has used, normally uses, or has yet to use- left, still in their places when all of you thought he or she was going to come home.
More than anything it is the shock that strikes you the moment you step through the door.
It doesn't matter how the dynamic of your relationship is with your loved one. It doesn't matter whether you have found the person's presence to be a blessing, an annoyance, or plain nonchalance.
If you have been living in the same house, or if you are familiar with the way the person organizes their life, I can tell you that it is at times like these that their living patterns linger around you.
These living patterns are what stick in your head as you run around the house (as calmly as you can so you don't leave anything out). And the questions- the QUESTIONS! Where is their toothbrush? Is this the one they use? Do you pack the toothbrush? Will they give the patient a new one? Where are the new ones? Are they allowed to bathe? Can they brush their teeth? What sort of clothes should he or she wear? Where are the clothes that are most suited for them to wear? Do you pack their favorite clothes? What will he or she need? Will there be toiletries? Do you pack the person's favorite shampoo? What exactly are you supposed to bring? What are you not permitted to? What will the person want? Do you bring a towel? What about books? What books do you bring? Are they allowed to read? Where's the charger? Where do they keep the phone charger? WIll there be wifi in the ward? Are they even allowed to use their phones?
Suddenly the little things you never used to notice before become glaring as heck now.
And they become so meaningful.
It didn't use to matter that they only used this pair of chopsticks or liked to have their drink only in their favorite mug. Now all you want is for them to come home to use this damn pair of chopsticks and fill their favorite mug with their favorite drink.
It might have bothered you from time to time that you had to prepare their nightly Milo (when they could bloody well do it themselves). But now all you want is for them to come home so that they can ask you to prepare their nightly Milo and put it in their favorite mug.
It might have been that you used to grumble at them that you had to pick up their clothes from the floor. Now all you want is for them to come home and leave their clothes all over the floor.
Here's where the feelings of loneliness and isolation really begin.
Because whilst you're quickly packing the bag it strikes you that you're doing all this for someone whom you're truly separated from. It isn't a separation made by choice, it isn't a separation that has had preparation, but it is a separation forced by a virus that no one really has absolute control over.
Not only are you not allowed to be with your loved one, not only are you not allowed to directly know how he or she is doing (except through messages passed to and fro by the medical staff), you may even find yourself wondering to whom you can share this situation to without the fear of being turned away.
It is not a nice feeling.
Especially when told that you yourself too have to be (either) home quarantined, or given an LOA.
Whichever it may be, your life is what gets disrupted for two entire weeks. No going to work, no running of errands, no going to the supermarket, no going to school, no heading to the park, nothing.
Who can you trust to help you with the errands and the groceries?
Who can you trust to tapao food for you because you can't go out?
Who can you trust to help you with stuff that you need to do but now can't do?
Modern-day leprosy, that's what it feels like, to be in a situation as this.
It is not a nice feeling.
But it is there.
They are all there.
Shock, grief, fear, worry, guilt, uncertainty, bad thoughts, loneliness.
And so it is my quiet hope that during this season of crisis, we will cease behaving like a**holes and instead be friends with each other, doing what we can for each other.
If you are one of those who gives zero f**ks to this virus thing, don't lecture, don't tell people what to do, what not to do- that's not what they need- but do extend a ear to be a listener and a friend. What they need most is someone to blabber out this entire experience to. Don't downplay their fears. Don't turn away from them who feel lonely but have to go through this, especially if they are going through it alone.
Because this is humanity.
Let's look at it this way:
Your family member tells you he or she has got a bit of fever. It seems like a regular flu, but just to be safe, better get it checked out, so off you go together to the doctor downstairs (your usual GP) for the checkup, the MC and the medication. Now maybe on the way there, you start to wonder a little whether it is just a regular flu or not, but you tell yourself, no big deal, stay positive, everything will be fine.
Sadly it doesn't.
Something (the doctor says) doesn't feel right.
And so in a tornado of events- I don't really know how it plays out- in no matter of time you find your loved one being whisked away in an ambulance by personnel clad in protective suits from head to toe, you are told to go home and pack a bag, which you do- all alone, by yourself- and back in the house are the items your loved one has used, normally uses, or has yet to use- left, still in their places when all of you thought he or she was going to come home.
More than anything it is the shock that strikes you the moment you step through the door.
It doesn't matter how the dynamic of your relationship is with your loved one. It doesn't matter whether you have found the person's presence to be a blessing, an annoyance, or plain nonchalance.
If you have been living in the same house, or if you are familiar with the way the person organizes their life, I can tell you that it is at times like these that their living patterns linger around you.
These living patterns are what stick in your head as you run around the house (as calmly as you can so you don't leave anything out). And the questions- the QUESTIONS! Where is their toothbrush? Is this the one they use? Do you pack the toothbrush? Will they give the patient a new one? Where are the new ones? Are they allowed to bathe? Can they brush their teeth? What sort of clothes should he or she wear? Where are the clothes that are most suited for them to wear? Do you pack their favorite clothes? What will he or she need? Will there be toiletries? Do you pack the person's favorite shampoo? What exactly are you supposed to bring? What are you not permitted to? What will the person want? Do you bring a towel? What about books? What books do you bring? Are they allowed to read? Where's the charger? Where do they keep the phone charger? WIll there be wifi in the ward? Are they even allowed to use their phones?
Suddenly the little things you never used to notice before become glaring as heck now.
And they become so meaningful.
It didn't use to matter that they only used this pair of chopsticks or liked to have their drink only in their favorite mug. Now all you want is for them to come home to use this damn pair of chopsticks and fill their favorite mug with their favorite drink.
It might have bothered you from time to time that you had to prepare their nightly Milo (when they could bloody well do it themselves). But now all you want is for them to come home so that they can ask you to prepare their nightly Milo and put it in their favorite mug.
It might have been that you used to grumble at them that you had to pick up their clothes from the floor. Now all you want is for them to come home and leave their clothes all over the floor.
Here's where the feelings of loneliness and isolation really begin.
Because whilst you're quickly packing the bag it strikes you that you're doing all this for someone whom you're truly separated from. It isn't a separation made by choice, it isn't a separation that has had preparation, but it is a separation forced by a virus that no one really has absolute control over.
Not only are you not allowed to be with your loved one, not only are you not allowed to directly know how he or she is doing (except through messages passed to and fro by the medical staff), you may even find yourself wondering to whom you can share this situation to without the fear of being turned away.
It is not a nice feeling.
Especially when told that you yourself too have to be (either) home quarantined, or given an LOA.
Whichever it may be, your life is what gets disrupted for two entire weeks. No going to work, no running of errands, no going to the supermarket, no going to school, no heading to the park, nothing.
Who can you trust to help you with the errands and the groceries?
Who can you trust to tapao food for you because you can't go out?
Who can you trust to help you with stuff that you need to do but now can't do?
Modern-day leprosy, that's what it feels like, to be in a situation as this.
It is not a nice feeling.
But it is there.
They are all there.
Shock, grief, fear, worry, guilt, uncertainty, bad thoughts, loneliness.
And so it is my quiet hope that during this season of crisis, we will cease behaving like a**holes and instead be friends with each other, doing what we can for each other.
If you are one of those who gives zero f**ks to this virus thing, don't lecture, don't tell people what to do, what not to do- that's not what they need- but do extend a ear to be a listener and a friend. What they need most is someone to blabber out this entire experience to. Don't downplay their fears. Don't turn away from them who feel lonely but have to go through this, especially if they are going through it alone.
Because this is humanity.