Friday 3 April 2020


LIVING THROUGH COVID-19 – PART 2

Quarantine is over and the tables have turned! Instead of assuming we have Covid-19 and must take measures to protect others, we assume everyone else has the virus. From now on, it’s our turn to protect ourselves. This thought makes me very uncomfortable.

Our fourteen-day journey has been easy compared to that of others we know. Friends stuck on cruise ships, not knowing how or when they’d get home. Relatives laid off from work; others having to close down their businesses. Our son, Jacques, a performing artist whose upcoming gigs have evaporated. Isabelle, a CBC Radio journalist who works day and night to keep Torontonians informed. Islanders we know who have chosen to shelter in place in Mexico, the last place I’d want to be right now.

Living in an apartment building is a new experience, and Covid-19 has taught us that it has its disadvantages. It’s even made us reflect on whether apartment living is for us. I wrote last week of the challenges Elva and I have faced in trying to stay healthy by walking and getting some fresh air during our self-isolation. Every day since we arrived home, we’ve listened to Dr. Heather Morrison’s updates and checked Health PEI’s Covid-19 Self-Isolation Guide. The guidelines have changed twice in fourteen days.

At first, we were allowed off our rented property, provided we followed social distancing guidelines. This meant being able to walk the Confederation Trail and the boardwalk. Then, on Day 6, we were told that we could not leave our apartment, except to sit on the balcony. So, I sat there and read a book for part of the afternoon, enjoying the fresh air and the cool sunshine. On Day 7, the guideline changed again; we could go outside if we stayed on the building’s property.

So, we’ve been walking back and forth across the parking lot. Like hamsters on a wheel. My Garmin recorded 5.5 kilometers one day. Elva and I are addicted to fresh air and exercise and we believe we have a duty to stay healthy, especially in times like these. We do understand that not everyone will agree with our actions during self-isolation but we know we did nothing wrong.
My cycling buddies and I have our Saturday morning coffee klatsch using Zoom, the latest in videoconferencing software. Having ditched cable two years ago, Elva and I watch Netflix, YouTube, and CBC Gem to pass the time. We have plenty of books to read. On a sadder note, new terms have entered our vocabulary: physical distancing, self-isolation, quarantine-shaming, the “rat line”, the “cocoon police”, etc. Covid-19 fatigue is setting in and our leaders must soon tell us when to expect things to improve. In the absence of a clearer path forward, individual resolve to comply will weaken.

Our parents and grandparents lived through two World Wars, the Spanish flu, a polio epidemic, and the Great Depression. By comparison, we’ve known little of hard times. Their experience taught them about duty to family, community, and country. It taught them sacrifice, self-reliance, the need to be frugal, and to always keep a little in reserve. Some good will come of the Covid-19 crisis. I can only hope we’ll be smart enough to 
learn a few lessons.

Since we first learned of Covid-19 in January, society has gone through a number of phases: ignorance, disbelief, denial, acceptance, compliance, and, most recently, panic. I suppose you could say the same of individuals and families. I worry about the consequences of the current panic and the impact it will have on traditional social norms in future. When will we feel comfortable being in a crowd again, shaking hands, hugging one another, or kissing one another on the cheek? These are things that bind our families and communities together; habits that make us human. Think about it!

As we all know by now, Covid-19 is much more than a health crisis. It’s a societal and economic disaster, the likes of which we’ve never experienced. Governments the world over have had to employ drastic fiscal and monetary measures to keep the economy going so that individuals, companies, and public institutions have enough money to get through this.

Central banks have lowered interest rates to historic levels to ensure that credit continues to flow where it is needed. The Bank of Canada had to buy $2 billion-worth of Newfoundland and Labrador provincial bonds to keep the province from going bust. No other financial institution would take on the risk. Oil revenues have dried up and the Come-by-Chance refinery has closed, putting 500 people out of work.

Monetary measures have been announced by provincial and federal governments. They’ve promised to spend taxpayer’s dollars to make sure we get through this rough patch and to reboot the economy when the worst is over. Deficits be damned! Some people are critical when our governments “print money”. Maybe they’ve got a better idea. If so, I’d be the first to listen. Tax increases down the road to pay for all this? Maybe, but smart governments should look to cut spending first.

Covid-19 will change our lives in ways we cannot even imagine, some of them for the better, I hope, but there’s no question that 2020 will be a tough year for Prince Edward Island. Will the tourists come? Who will plant and harvest the crops and process the lobster? When will markets recover for luxury products like lobster, mussels, and oysters? When will non-essential businesses be allowed to reopen?

Looking further ahead, what will be the new normal? What will supermarkets look like when this is over? Is this the end of retail as we know it, especially big box stores and shopping malls? What will passenger screening look like at airports? How will this affect public transit? Will the travel and hospitality industries recover? What about the performing arts? Have we seen the last of cinemas? What will happen to office space, including government buildings, as more people work from home?

I sincerely hope that calm, intelligent, and reflective individuals will look back when the worst of this is over and take a good, hard look at our societal and governmental structures and our public infrastructure, particularly those that have failed to meet our needs. And this MUST be more than an internal government exercise.

Where did our disaster response plan work well and where did it fail us? Did politicians and disaster experts, medical and otherwise, do a good job? Were the right people making the key decisions? When will we finally learn that rural Islanders deserve the same as the rest of us, internet access being the most obvious example of a glaring inequity? And, most fundamentally, which government services are essential, which are not, and what are we going to do to redress the balance?

The biggest mistake we could make is to blindly go back to the way things were and forget this ever happened.

On a personal note, Elva and I have been profoundly affected by this experience. The strain on our immediate family has been felt deeply by all. Our plans to see the world while we’re healthy enough to travel have been put on hold for the time being. The cruise we’d planned for the fall has been cancelled.

Our preferred cruise line, Holland America, has done a terrible job of looking after its passengers and of communicating with its clients. Check their website, www.hollandamerica.com, and you’d think everything’s just hunky-dory! We’ve spent more than 250 days on Holland America ships, including the ill-fated Zaandam. We may never set foot on a cruise ship again.

Elva and I have a lot to be thankful for: good health, the strong bond between us, a supportive family, good friends, defined-benefit pension plans, and money set aside for a rainy day. Our bikes are champing at the bit and ready for the first fine day.
An ice storm struck my little world in 1961, knocking out power in Wellington for a week. After a few days, our house got so cold we had to move up the Mill Road to Uncle Cliff and Aunt Tina’s. It was like a winter vacation! A chance to play with my cousins, Joyce, Judy, and Aubrey, all day, and to take my first ever shower! They probably couldn’t wait to get rid of me but I didn’t want to go home… Elva’s family, self-reliant as they were, probably barely noticed.

I read a quote from Pope Francis the other day. It went something like this: God forgives always; people forgive sometimes; Mother Nature never forgets. Perhaps that is the real lesson.

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