About 6 months ago I wrote an upbeat post at the beginning of the lockdown. I thought it would be an easy few weeks, working from home, shopping online, and not having to rush anywhere. A lot of us thought that it would pass quickly.
As I settled into lockdown and watched the infection and morbidity rates going up daily, panic started setting in. There was a national fear of food shortages and people were clearing out the shelves in the shops until they started rationing how many products each person could buy.
Our hospital, doctors, and dentist appointments were postponed or getting canceled to keep the facilities available for people who have been affected by Covid19.
Events were cancelled, churches and schools closed, so most parents had to home school their children, work meetings, and church were done via Zoom videos. We started coming to terms with our new normal, masks when out in public, no eating out, not seeing friends and family that didn’t live with us.
Everything happened so quickly, I don’t even know how long I was doing CPR for, from the time I called 999 to when the paramedics came in and it was terrifying to see them come in wearing full hazmat suits because of the risk of Covid19.
I was allowed to go with him to the hospital, and the nurses gave me an apron, gloves, a mask to put on. It was so hot and claustrophobic under all the protective wear but all the safety precautions needed to be done.
My partner remained unresponsive, and he made a terrible gurgling sound which I have now learned is called the ‘death rattle’, it was such a hard noise to listen to as I was informed that these were his last hours and while it was uncomfortable for me to watch, he was unconscious and not in pain, even though it looked like he was.
I was crippled with fear and I kept hoping he would pull through. I never thought that in my lifetime I would have to stand by and watch a loved one slip away. I prayed for a miracle even though I knew the chances of him having a full recovery were slim.
I was sent home and told to expect the worst within about 48 hours, most of which I spent on autopilot. My family is scattered all over the world and they tried their best to support via text, phone, and Whatsapp but I was too distressed to speak.
As I was leaving home for the hospital the next day, I got the call to say that he had passed away. I can’t even begin to describe what I felt at that moment, it was a lot!
It didn’t help that we were still on lockdown and I couldn’t even have a relative come over to help out due to being in isolation as I had spent time with my partner at the hospital.
Once people got the news, the phone calls started coming in. Some were from well-meaning people passing their condolences but some, I felt, got rather intrusive and asking personal questions – like, ‘was it COVID19?’, ‘did he have a will?’, ‘was the house in both your names?’ and ‘did he have life insurance?’.
I realised that I was trying too hard to talk to everyone that reached out to me and I was starting to feel overwhelmed with all the attention I was getting. When I mentioned that to a friend she said “you don’t need to answer all the phone calls or respond to the text messages straight away. People will understand that you’re having a tough time.” That brought a bit of relief to me.
It has been 17 weeks since he passed away and I have been on an emotional roller coaster since then. I lost all my coping mechanisms, lost my zest for life and while I had been making progress and weaning off antidepressants, I now needed to have them increased.
While I had been on a good routine of eating well and exercising pre-lockdown, I started to comfort eat to numb my feelings of loneliness, grief, fear, sadness, and lack of sleep.
I used to have someone to encourage me, laugh with, eat with, and make plans with so it’s daunting to think of life on my own. Now I’m thinking of Christmas and the lockdown restrictions we are facing again and knowing that I can’t even visit my family in South Africa makes me sadder.
I am taking one day at a time and learning that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, that its okay to cry, and that there is no right or wrong way to grieve a loved one. There are no set timelines on grief but I know that it gets better with time even though some days I wake up and the memory is as fresh as though it has just happened.