The Covid shuffle dance

 The Covid shuffle Dance.

Step forward, step back, step to the side and repeat. Endlessly. On good days I socially distance with a smile and a wave. On bad days I keep my head down. Most days I simply step to side to let fellow walkers stride past and carry on. Not up, not down, just carrying on walking. 

Step forward day.  Feb 18th. I had my first vaccine. Pfizer. You get whichever one is on offer. It felt good. As if I could see a way ahead.

Step sideways. February 22nd, the much anticipated date for lockdown easing, is a damp squib. Such a disappointment. The usual fudge from this useless Government.

The only fundamental change at this stage is the return of schools on March 8th. Fair enough that this should be a priority but to have nothing else for everyone else is a slap in the face. 

Hopes were raised and dashed that social rules would be relaxed to allow for the return of the rule of 6 outside. As the infection rate and death rate continues to fall it seemed a no brainer. But no.

Cue many days where I feel as if I am walking backwards.

In Lewes we are down from a high of over 800 positive tests per 10,000 people to a mere 71. 

UK death rates have dropped from an appalling high of over 1500 a day to an average of less than 500 a day. 

But still no earlier release, no parole for a weary nation, we must wait for 5 more long weeks before being allowed out for good behaviour.

I understand the need to get our schools open. Home schooling has replaced schools for far too long, parents are exhausted, many combining this with home working. Teachers trying to teach virtually alongsdie in the classroom for key worker children  are exhausted. No one knows the long term effects of these school closures on education or on the mental health of a generation.

Homes were never meant to be schools. Teachers deserve more pay! And the arguments over what to do over this year's exam grades have only just begun, Poor students. Poor parents. Poor teachers. What a complete and utter fiasco. 

Stepping backwards with heavy tread and a heavy heart. The prospect of another month of lockdown. 

In the greater scheme of life a few more weeks is nothing but I am weighed down with sadness, I miss my grandchildren so much, my family, my friends.

Today I walked with a friend robbed of final hours with her dying mother due to Covid restrictions. Spoke to another whose partner died suddenly last week (non Covid) , doubly cruel after a year of lost time together. Their plans for marriage and moving in together had been on hold and now it is too late. 

Covid has robbed so many people of so much bar Covid itself.  It has taken away time, time with loved ones, time to laugh, time to cry. Funerals are restricted, we cannot even celebrate the lives of those we mourn. 

Now we must wait with bated breath and pray to any Gods we worship that sending all schools years back en masse does not force back up the infection/illness/death rate. 

Only then do we get our freedom back. In small steps. provisionally March 29th is the rule of 6 outside, 12 April will allow overnight stays, shops, etc. Incremental openings through to June. Possibly. 

Do I dare hope. Good days yes, bad days no, most days I find it best to side step hope, I cannot bear it. 

A gap in time

A gap in time 

Weeks have passed in isolation, silence, dark days and dark moods.

Freezing weather and asthma are not a good combination. My daily life has been restricted by minus temperatures and as the thermometer drops so does my mood. 

Vaccine rollout has dominated the headlines. The UK is topping the charts, 15 million and counting as of Fen 15th. On target, according to a jubilant Boris Johnson.

I was due to get one soon. in group 6, people with underlying health conditions. But I am one of millions sacrificed to political gain.

Asthma sufferers who have not have emergency admissions are bumped out. Group 6 is simply too big to allow the Gov to make its next target of all over 50s by end of April. 

And after all what do people matter when there is a political headline at stake.

What has saved me is the love of my family. My daughter worked from home for a week so she could take a weeks leave and we could literally embrace the support bubble we legally enjoy. 

Staying covid secure whilst she had to work in the office in January limited us to outdoor walks, better than nothing but omg so wonderful to be able to share hugs, sofa time, lazy lunches.

I miss everyone far away so much. The Alexa show screen has been a much needed luxury which is worth every pound, enabling me to play interactively with Bea and Martha. Letters wing their way acoss the miles. 

Lily sings and dances across the miles from Norfolk, whilst little sister Rosie laughs when she sees me, reassuring my wobbly heart that memory is still intact, she may not be able to say grandma but she knows who I am and every little precious moment counts. 

The joy which fills me heart when I see their faces is beyond words. I am one of the lucky ones, I know, and although some days it simply feels to hard to go on I continue because of my wonderful family. 

I may not yet have seen my youngest sons new home in London but his video calls have been brilliant in making me feel included. I long to see him and see his and his partner's new home in reality. One day...

Time has lost all meaning. Days merge into weeks, weeks into months. Despite the successful vaccine rollout an end to lockdown seems a long while off.  This Government, rightly or wrongly, has finally decided that "lock and release " is not the answer, that this lockdown has to be the last, irreversible, time.

Numbers have dropped, infection rates, death rates and hospital admission rates. But whether to vaccine or lockdown it is hard to tell. If we open up society too early the virus may well flare up with a vengance. But if we do not soon everyone will simply go mad.

Mental health issues are at an all time high. Teenagers, who have in the main been fantastic at simply getting on with it, home schooling, exam chaos, lack of social life, sporting activities, etc etc, are now reporting record figures of mental health problems. 

Furlough is due to end in April and logic dictates the jobless total will rocket. The Chancellor has a budget to deliver soon. The nation holds it breath to see just how on earth he is going to square the circle of the incredible cost of this last year.

There are early signs of spring. Snowdrops pushed through the snow, daffodils are blooming, trees are in bud. On good days I can feel optimistic that one day I will get my life back. On bad days I simply try to keep calm and carry on.