These inspiring women share their moving lockdown stories
Coronavirus has affected us all in different ways. Here, we listen to the stories of four Scottish women, whose lives have been unequivocally altered, forever.
Image: Unsplash
Just six months ago, most of us had never heard of Coronavirus. But, since December 8th last year, when a patient in the Chinese city of Wuhan sought medical help for pneumonia, the lives of millions in over 200 countries have changed, forever.
At the beginning of March, we were encouraged to avoid shaking hands to greet friends and colleagues and, instead, urged to opt for an elbow bump instead. At first, it was hard not to snicker at the sight of senior politicians and royalty adopting this new greeting. Little did we know that something as simple as an introduction would soon become an altogether no-go. The social distancing of two metres became a rule of thumb, leaving many of us aching for the embrace of a loved one.
The outbreak has caused much chaos and uncertainty, and as our leaders begin to look at the prospect of loosening lockdown measures, Scotland braces itself for a severe economic downturn. With no guarantee of a quick recovery and the spectre of a sharp rise in unemployment looming, it brings heightened fear and anxiety.
For some, life has been decimated, while others remain in limbo, and our frontline workers have faced a terrifying change in their daily routine. We all have our own unique stories of the pandemic, but here, we've handed over the following pages to you, our devoted Hood readers. The words that follow are from real women who, like you, are beginning to come to terms with a new normal.
Lisa Fleming, 37, founder of charity Make 2nds Count and mum to Cameron, 7, was diagnosed with secondary cancer in 2017. Like so many others with pre-existing conditions, Lisa finds her world turned upside down once again. 'As a family, we have always lived life at a rate of knots,' enlightens Lisa. 'Our careers and social lives never quite loaned themselves to a quiet pace of life. It took my diagnosis with secondary breast cancer in 2017 to finally get me to slow down. I have to admit that, even then, due to constant treatments, hospital visits, mummy duties, and making memories through our love of travel, life was still relatively fast-paced, albeit in a very different way. We would never have considered that it would take a global pandemic to truly appreciate the "simple life.”'
'Living with incurable cancer is frightening. Living with incurable cancer during a global pandemic is terrifying. Life in the way we knew it had changed forever. It could be easy to dwell on the negatives, yet, as we have had to do since the other "Evil C" entered my life, focusing on the positives, even in the bleakest of times, is the only way to get through.'
'"Shielding" sounds like something She-ra (my childhood hero) would do. Any He-man fans reading this will understand that she was the quintessential influencer of her time! It most definitely takes channelling your inner superhero to cope with being on lockdown. When a trip to your chemotherapy unit for treatment becomes the highlight of your week, you know that we are living in strange times.'
'While Groundhog Day can seem mundane, there are many aspects of it that I am truly starting to enjoy. Living without any time constraints, nowhere to be at a certain time, no early morning chaos, or evening commitments has allowed us precious time as a family. Just being, and living in the moment. As I write this, I look around the living room, which has since become our classroom. The ironing is in a heap. I'm sat in my PJs while my boys play Ludo on the floor. Suddenly, a poem, by Rebekah Knight, that I used to read when I first became a mother springs to mind.'
‘"Slow down, mummy, there's no need to rush. Slow down, mummy, what's all the fuss? Slow down, mummy, make yourself a cup of tea. Slow down, mummy, come and spend some time with me." And do you know what? That way of life is okay with me right now. ‘
As Zee Hartley, 36, a single mum-of-four, readied herself to home-school her two daughters and two sons, her business, Koha Beauty, suddenly saw a spike in sales. The last nine weeks have been the busiest she has ever experienced. 'Koha Beauty has been a labour of love for the last few years and something I focus on when the kids are at school,' Zee explains. 'In March, we received lots of lovely coverage for our shampoo bars which sent orders through the roof—just as the lockdown was imposed, and I was preparing to teach my four kids from the kitchen table.'
The challenge of the increased workload was something Zee relished. 'As any single parent out there will know, your days can be very long, so I'm used to surviving on little sleep. It has been amazing to have the opportunity to spend quality time with the brood. Then, once the schoolwork for the day is outlined, I'm able to answer emails and inquiries and respond to stockists. When the boys go to bed, the girls and I will box up orders to send to our wonderful customers, which we take to the post office on our daily walk. It's not been easy by any stretch, but we've fallen into a bit of a rhythm now. One that a strict 9-5 career probably wouldn't have allowed for.'
As sales of her soaps soared, Zee also saw an opportunity to produce a hand sanitiser. She launched the product in mid-May, which has proven to be a massive success for the boutique beauty brand. 'I'm up early, try my best to plan our day with precision,
and then crack on. It's hard—it can be lonely and exhausting. But from this awful situation, we've pulled together as a tight unit—Koha Beauty has very much become a family brand.'
Dr. Punam Krishan, 36, is an NHS GP and an honorary senior lecturer, who, as the pandemic began to sweep the nation, was weeks from welcoming her second child with her husband, a frontline doctor. 'I had never anticipated living through a global pandemic, let alone being pregnant and giving birth during one! The last few months have been a whirlwind. I still can't believe that my baby girl is eight weeks old already. Dubbed now as a "lockdown baby," I imagine how many times we will recount her birth story in years to come, as babies born during this period will undoubtedly play a pivotal part in the retelling of history.’
'In the run-up to having my daughter, my anxiety levels were through the roof. I was working on the NHS frontline, seeing COVID-19 patients, while the pandemic was spreading rapidly across the UK. There was, and remains, so many unknowns about this virus, which made my pregnancy journey a very worrying experience. With the guidelines changing regularly, my husband, a frontline doctor, and I soon decided to socially distance from one another. We didn't know what risks COVID-19 had on long term outcomes of babies, and as he still saw potentially positive cases, we didn't want to take any chances of an unknown transmission from him. I have a six-year-old son, too, who found this very difficult. He couldn't understand why he wasn't allowed to hug his daddy anymore, and with schools closed and no social support, we struggled.’
'Perhaps the most daunting moments I can recall were attending the hospital appointments on my own. Not being allowed to have my husband attend key appointments was upsetting. While it was a necessary measure, it made me feel even more vulnerable. Due to previous birth trauma, I was a high-risk pregnancy, so, fortunately, I had a planned c-section. My anxiety levels were high as I waited for my turn in the labour ward. I'll never forget the sense of solidarity I felt as I looked across to other soon-to-be mums who were also in isolation, without their birth partners. We smiled at one another from a distance. I knew I wasn't alone.’
'Luckily, my husband was able to attend the birth in the end, and we went on to have the most beautiful birth—one I still pinch myself about, especially as I was still recovering from my past traumatic birth. It was such a positive experience because the maternity staff did everything they could to make me feel comfortable, supported, and listened to. They went above and beyond to keep my baby and me safe, and this continues to fill me with overwhelming gratitude. As I watched my baby enter the world, I heard her cry, and all my anxieties dissipated. I felt relieved that we were both safe and that, if we could get through this, we could get through anything.'
'The postnatal period was, and remains, one of my biggest challenges. In some ways, having some alone time with my children has been lovely, but in other ways, it's been upsetting that my family – who haven't yet met Ellora – can only continue to support me through a digital device. Postnatal women are always more vulnerable as they face new adjustments while healing from their birth. During this pandemic and lockdown, however, they also have to endure social isolation, which adds to the mental turmoil.'
'I've been taking things one day at a time; celebrating the small wins and not putting too much pressure on myself has been the goal (although home-schooling is making this tough!). I am fortunate to have had a very positive birth experience, irrespective of the bizarre time that we are living through. When I hear the daily briefings of how many people have lost their lives, my baby girl reminds me that many more are being born, too. Although this has been a dark time, there is light at the end of the tunnel.'
College lecturer and mum-of-four, Kirsten Fisken, 50, is a person feeling the effects of social distancing more than most. Kirsten received a kidney transplant in 1990, which has allowed her to live a full, healthy, and active life. However, as a transplant recipient, Kirsten finds herself in the very high-risk category, and in March, was advised to self-isolate. This has meant limited face-to-face contact with husband, Pete, and children Peter, 21, Matthew, 16, Charis and Gracie, 12.
'Pete has moved into a different room, as sleeping in the same bed is prohibited—very strange seeing as we've been together for thirty years. I've pretty much been confined to my bedroom for nine weeks—working, eating, sleeping. The most challenging part of shielding is when my children have been sad, angry, or upset, and as a mum, I have wanted nothing more than to leave my room, sit down with them, listen, and hug them. But I simply cannot do this just now; it's just too risky. It defies my maternal instincts not to be there for them when they need that reassurance and love.’
Many of us have embraced the video call, which many would have avoided at all costs pre-COVID, and Kirsten is no different. 'Technology has been my lifeline throughout this experience as it has enabled me to continue to work and remain in touch with friends and family. Being able to see familiar faces who have offered listening ears, lighthearted chat, and practical support has been wonderful and helped me feel somewhat connected with the world on the other side of my bedroom door.'
'What's next for me? I can only focus on each day as it comes, as it's the only way I can manage my "new normal". I need to follow advice on what will keep me safe, and I'm waiting patiently to hear what's next for vulnerable groups. My family is always my priority, and thankfully we're all safe and well. That's the main thing. I continue to work from home, supporting my students who are completing their courses and making sure their mental health is holding up, but I'm not sure how things will pan out when my colleagues return next term.’