Covid#8 - This is just the beginning

When I started writing this Covid19 diary just over a week ago, we had just been told that schools would be closing at the end of the week, panic buying was still a relatively new phenomena, the over-70s and the vulnerable were still walking the streets and there had been 3,300 confirmed cases in the UK and 144 deaths. 

We were all grappling to come to terms with being in the grips of a global pandemic and I was reminding myself as much as anyone else that it was just the beginning.

A week on and we’re reeling from the impact of the virus and the change it has brought to everything.

Schools are closed.  Panic buying has been replaced by strict controls on our shopping – one-in, one-out at the supermarket and limits on what we can buy.  No-one is walking the streets; we’re staying at home and the Police keep an eye on our movements.  We’ve quickly become used to staying two metres apart from anyone we meet.  The friends and family we saw so regularly and hugged so freely are now just voices on the phone and faces on a screen and we don’t know when we’ll see each other properly again.  Pubs, restaurants, cafes and shopping centres are all shut.  Sport is off.  Many of us are working from home and accepting the limits on what we can achieve.  Many others find themselves suddenly with no work and no money.  Planes are grounded and the skies are empty.  Billions upon billions of pounds have been borrowed to keep us all afloat; after all those years of austerity, the national debt has abruptly rocketed.  The NHS is frantically readying itself for a ‘tsunami’ of cases.  We’ve been on lockdown for three days, with eighteen still to go – probably more.  The Prime Minister, the Prince of Wales, the Health Secretary and the Chief Medical Officer have all tested positive.

As of today, there have been 14,500 confirmed cases in the UK and 759 deaths.  Worldwide, there have been nearly 600,000 cases and 27,247 deaths. 

The picture is bleak but there’s cause for hope too.  Rainbows have appeared in windows across the country for children to spot.  We’ve found a deep new regard for our public services, especially the NHS.  We’ve remembered who the vulnerable are in our communities and shown how much we care.  An army of volunteers has mobilised.  Everywhere, people are supporting each other in wonderful acts of kindness.  Social media is alive with positivity and optimism.

We are still reeling.  We’re in shock and adapting to a new reality for which we weren’t prepared.  We’re fearful and uncertain of what the future holds, but we’re staying positive.  We don’t know how long it will all last.

There’s one thing I’m sure of though: this is still just the beginning.