My life up until Saturday March 21 was pretty much on track; I had been to the farmers’ market for my weekly retail therapy, and after I got home I was told that people 70-plus had to self isolate.
I am working, the manager of SuperGrans Dunedin, with about 30 older volunteers. When told we were unable to use our space, I had so many questions: what, how, where to from here?
We had several workshops planned, and Back to Basics cooking sessions, all on the calendar. And then, suddenly, we could not continue.
Well, I guess I was totally blind-sided by the announcement that we were to move to Level 3 — really, what did that mean — and then before I had time to digest, we were in Level 4.
Uncertainty, and utter incredulity.
I was in my own little bubble prior to these announcements, as I did try to avoid too much information and news because I found it overwhelming and totally confusing. So many numbers and incredibly dire warnings, and many of the words being used for me were panic-invoking and chaos-causing, and not being used in their true meanings.
Unfortunately I cannot remember any now, as that has passed into history. I avoided any radio stations apart from Concert Radio, but slowly have started watching the TV news.
The first few days were spent contacting our volunteers and checking on their wellbeing, still believing that this was really all a bad dream.
I did find I needed structure to my day, but that was soon forgotten, as each day was spent talking to either acquaintances or friends, and some of the jobs that had presented as a possibility during this compulsory holiday were still there for another day.
By day seven I was feeling totally lost and questioning; the garden was attacked with an almost slash and burn approach, which was a reasonably therapeutic session.
There have been a couple of road trips to the supermarket, and I can remember feeling incredibly guilty when I saw a police car — what it is to be a rule keeper! That was a really unusual feeling, and I could not imagine how other cultures have managed to live under strict regimes. At least there is, hopefully, an end to this state.
Day 13 and I hit a wall, big time. I had thought I was bulletproof, but I realised just how vulnerable I really am. No amount of logical talk made any difference. Again, I am lucky to have a very supportive partner and some extremely good friends.
Probably about this time I realised that it wasn’t all about me and that there are thousands of “us” out there, so how is everyone else coping? Days became a blur of some normal house things, and so each day passes.
Into week three and the only description of that time was feeling extremely flat — the weather being good I should have been gardening, walking or at least outside — but somehow, by the time the puzzles in the newspaper were completed it was time to find something else to perhaps procrastinate about.
I have not been totally unproductive. I have baked, cooked, made bread, made chutneys, made face masks for a health care provider and talked with many, many people until sometimes I feel like I have used up my word allocation for the day. And fortunately, generally, I have been feeling positive, apart from the scary thoughts about what starts to happen once the levels open up.
Minister for Seniors Tracey Martin’s announcement that people aged 70 plus can be treated like everyone else has certainly made me feel invigorated again. I can now feel confident that the majority of our volunteers will be feeling pleased that they will still be able to offer and pass on their skills and knowledge to future generations.
We have been given the choice how we manage our return to the new normal.
I realise that there is still a long way to go, but I am certainly really happy that we, all the volunteers in that group, will be able to carry on with our contributions to the new world and know we are a valuable part of society.
