My COVID diaries: if only I had the time…

With cancelled shifts galore, this week was my first experience of true lockdown.

I will admit to a degree of excitement – perhaps I have had a little lockdown “FOMO” as I have headed off to my final remaining locum shifts.

I had anticipated the abundance of time that would come with childless house arrest. Like many, I envisaged daily goals for CPD, exercise, self‑improvement and household chores. I would emerge not only fitter, smarter and more enlightened, but with a tidier house, too.

When my lockdown finally arrived, I asked myself “what do you want to do with this time?”, and found I dug deeper than logging extra CPD hours.

Instead, I searched back for the forgotten things that used to fill me up – the passions that lurk in the section of your identity marked “I used to”.

Artistic

A confession: I have never been a scientist. I am a pretender among my colleagues. I dreamed of being a vet my whole life, but thrived on words and art, not chemistry. I failed to pass my science A-levels and ended up at art school instead – and resented every second.

Mid-term in my foundation year, I got the call from the University of Nottingham offering me a place on its preliminary year course. I left my paints on my desk and never went back.

I discarded a piece of me that day, and it has taken 10 years and a global pandemic to realise I want it back.

The sketchpad and pencils from Amazon sat pointedly on the table for several days. It is funny how nerve wracking it is to revive a rusty hobby, even if no one is there to see.

It was hard to know where to start. This was a big moment for me; a still life of the fruit bowl did not feel like a big moment kind of drawing.

So, I started exactly where I was – a self-portrait of a coronavirus vet.

I have aged since I last drew my face, which is handy as wrinkles and blemishes make for a more interesting piece. My hair has always been messy. I notice a dullness in my right eye, but resilience in the left. A pearl earring makes a stubborn attempt at glamour, behind the edge of a flimsy surgical mask.

I see for the first time the words “FULL CARE” embossed on the corner of the mask. Ironic when we must wear them for five days in a row, knowing they probably offer protection for little more than two hours.

My name is scratched in three crude capital letters next to the scored shifts: NAT, shift two of five.

I was glad of the mask. It both hid and absorbed my tears, as I stood at the beginning of a two‑metre drip line and watched sticky, yellow liquid spiral the tube before tucking under the bandage. I watched a life go limp from the other side of the room, as if it was nothing to do with me.

I have always used a pencil to process things, whether with words or drawings. But life runs away with us and one day we find space no longer exists to fit in things that were once so important.

(Re)light a fire

Whatever anyone else is sharing on social media, lockdown is something we just need to survive; no pressure to thrive or emerge a better version of ourselves.

But for some of us (not all), lockdown brings an unexpected gift. A chance to visit the list marked “not enough time” and see if anything jumps out – a passion you lost along the way, or something you never quite found. Writing, music, learning a language, gardening, beekeeping, making your own clothes or taking up running… it may just be the thing that helps you survive.

So, ask the you of two months ago: what would you do if you only had the time?