Iori Thorpe 19.10.

2021

Formative writing assignment – ‘Covid-19 and me’

The Covid-19 pandemic was characterised, on a macro-level, by an indiscriminate reframing
of society and the uprooting of the comforting stasis of everyday life. On a personal scale,
lockdown represented an equally transformative health journey but one characterised by
recuperation and re-engagement.

For almost five years leading up to 2020, I grappled with a cycle of chronic illness, recovery
and relapse. Following my A-Level mocks in 2016, I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue
Syndrome and Depression. Reflecting on the time spent incapacitated I cannot say where one
condition ended and the other began owing to the entangled mess of symptoms. What is
certain is that I certainly was not ‘well’. Fortunately, by the Spring of 2020, I was able to
attend Liverpool St Paul’s eye clinic to receive corneal cross-linking for keratoconus on the
Friday before lockdown began. It is here that a nascent realisation of a cresting wave began to
dawn.

It is apt that this turning point occurred on Friday the 13th of March. For someone all too
familiar with hospitals, there was a marked departure from the typically composed
atmosphere. This was evident in the temperament of my Italian surgeon and the forlorn
desperation in her eyes. Her recounting of the Lombardy and Veneto outbreaks and how
“they were running out of places to bury the dead,” continues to haunt me. Suddenly it was
more than a mere discrete incident in Wuhan. This imparted a sense of inevitability; it was
just a matter of time before it reached the UK.

When the first wave broke my grandparents were amongst the first in North Wales to catch it.
I was plunged into a state of helplessness and anxiety, only to wait as they were confined to
quarantine for a fortnight. Despite several emergency doctor’s visits, they pulled through. As
with the pandemic as a whole, and contrary to the PMs statements on the 19th of March: that
we would “turn the tide of Coronavirus in 12 weeks,” my grandparents affliction had just
begun as symptoms of fatigue, dizziness and breathlessness became the everyday reality of
long Covid. No longer able to take comfort in their regular activities (my Grandpa, an avid
cook and reader and Nannan, a prolific seamstress) it was as if they rapidly aged five years.

Lockdown has a puzzling effect on time. Those vivid early weeks seemed to painfully
elongate, whilst ensuing months challenged the concepts of repetition and routine. Days
blurred and time slipped away. I was fortunate that my parents, sister and her boyfriend
helped disrupt this monotony. I owe a lot to them for their hand in pulling me out of the
doldrums of mental health - remnants of a prolonged period of isolation. Rory accompanied
me on my initial forays into the garden, providing support on the initial steps away from
being bed-bound towards physical activity.

By the middle of summer, I was already walking around Llyn Padarn and had an e-bike
which provided access to the beautiful landscapes I sorely missed. Sustaining the momentum
of this nascent resilience, I enrolled in an access course to fill the gaps in my qualifications.

However, things took a downwards turn during the second lockdown. The honeymoon period
of newfound ‘wellness’ subsided, replaced by the inescapable structure of schoolwork. A
nightly walk with my father became the primary source of comfort and companionship. By
now my sister had already returned to Bristol and lessons had fully migrated online. Online
learning, the depths of winter and the unrelenting Welsh weather are challenging enough.
Iori Thorpe 19.10.2021

Paired with the second wave, it became difficult to account for the bigger picture with
optimism resting solely on the hope that things would improve.

Nevertheless, the pandemic abated. By Spring 2021 a semblance of normality was restored.
Moreover, the crescendo into summer represented another turning point. I began counselling
and started coming to terms with my illness for the first time. This opened the door to
exciting developments. Chiefly, Vicky. Initially, a newcomer and friend. Then, a kindred
spirit also keen to explore North Wales. Now, six months on, she is so much more and the
person I intend to spend the rest of my life with.

In closing, my Covid-19 experience feels framed at odds with the maelstrom that swept
through most people’s lives. Neither wholly positive or negative, the last 18 months
paralleled the virus itself: a series of peaks and troughs. Navigating this undulating landscape
instilled resilience, adaptability and a newfound respect for things previously taken for
granted.

Word Count: 750