Life in Coronatime — week 5
Boris Johnson wasn’t wrong when he warned us at the start of lockdown that many would lose loved ones before their time. And here I am in Week 5 on the verge of saying goodbye to my mum. Except I can’t. She doesn’t even have Coronavirus, she has cancer, but has rapidly deteriorated in the last weeks. Friends who have lost parents recently tell me to make the most of this time and share memories. But she’s too weak now to speak on the phone, her mind is too addled by morphine and ketamine to have a proper conversation. In normal times I’d be able to sit by her bedside, now she’s locked in a hospice over 200 miles away. My stepdad is the only one who can visit — one person, one hour per day. I feel I’m constantly on the verge of a panic attack. I’m watching from a distance while she fades away — my mum, my role model, she’s been the most important person in my life forever and I can’t imagine how it will be without her.
Before lockdown my mum was all set to have immunotherapy. We were hopeful, she’s always been a fighter. But she’s not strong enough right now. We weren’t able to visit her as planned on Mother’s Day or Easter. I tried to explain to her that travel wasn’t allowed because of the restrictions but this was lost in the pain of her cancer — the tumour broke her pelvis — and she didn’t understand. She’s naturally curious and adventurous, not the sort of person who thrives alone in a hospice bed. She needed us there, to hold her hand, feel the warmth of our skin and smell our hot breath as we put the world to rights. Video calling is great for work meetings and boozy quizzes with your mates, but life filtered through a laptop screen can’t nurture us in the same way as doing it in the flesh.
But I know I’m not the only one who is suffering from this pain of loss, of not being able to say goodbye. Non-Coronavirus related death rates have also risen during this period of isolation. While some people might be scared to go to hospital right now, I think sick people are also feeling abandoned and confused and giving up hope. Our mental health takes a battering when we can’t be together with our loved ones, when we’re suspicious of strangers in the queue for the checkout or when we live alone in lockdown. From slowing down to making do, our values are shifting, but one thing that’s becoming increasingly evident is that we do need to hug each other again, and not just through emojis. Social distancing might help us to fight the spread of Coronavirus but over the long term we desperately need physical connection to survive.
Update May 22nd, 2020
Sadly my beautiful mum passed away on May 1st. I did manage to be with her at the end and say goodbye.
