‘It was like hell on earth, for months I had one hour a night with family’
Former RAF auxiliary nurse and DUP councillor Kathryn Owen (43) was one of thousands who signed up to help the NHS on the front line. Here, she reflects on her traumatic year of caring for Covid patients
WHEN the pandemic started, there were no questions asked when the call for volunteers was made. The paperwork was filled in, my husband, Steve, came home and it was a case of ‘Err, I’ve got something to tell you’.
The first wave was probably what I expected it to be, but I didn’t expect it to be as calm as it was. There weren’t the numbers. A lot of people stayed away from hospital, which was worrying and alarming for lots of different reasons.
Generally, it was all fairly well managed. Of course, we had the panic over the PPE, and I worked in the PPE village, but some of the wards were empty because we had no patients. There were still the sick Covid patients, however.
There was that camaraderie; everybody’s shoulder to the wheel. By the summer, the first surge was over and things had started to calm down, so I thought, ‘Oh, happy days’.
It was a bit of a respite from everything and I went back to being an extra pair of hands.
Mucking in:
DUP councillor Kathryn Owen and (right) in her scrubs at the end of a long shift
Once everybody got things under control and didn’t need me, there was no point me just standing there.
If the permanent staff were under pressure, I could come in. I was ‘bank staff’.
I did expect a second/third surge by the autumn. It was building, and it was October by the time that I started to pick up
my shifts again on the wards.
When the vaccination roll-out began, I was in the vaccination centre and was literally working round the clock. It stayed like that all over Christmas and the new year. I only gave myself Christmas Day off.
In January, I was back working with Covid patients. Without a doubt, January was the
worst. Craigavon Area Hospital was on its knees. I had been with people when they were passing away in the first surge, when initially we weren’t letting anyone in to be with them. It was very, very difficult.
I’d been out of nursing for two years and then suddenly, ‘wham, bam’, you’re back into it and then you’re being told that a patient maybe doesn’t have very much longer to live and being asked if you can go and sit with him or her.
As much as nurses are trained to a palliative level, we are used to stepping back because a family is normally there.
I still get choked up about that. I’m very pragmatic and I accepted that this was what came with the package. But equally, when you’re the only staff or only person there with that person and they don’t really know you, and they’re looking at you through a pair of goggles, a visor or seeing you top to toe in blue, it’s very emotional.
During December, January and February, I saw my family an hour a night. That may sound unbelievable, but that’s the truth. I was either in work, driving home or trying to do emails or make phone calls regarding council business, as well as trying to work on my PHD.
Those three months were like hell on earth. At times I was a zombie. I have to thank my party colleagues for helping me with my council work.
Now that life is going back to normality, the one positive out of the whole year is that I’ve seen this pandemic at its worst and very much at its best.
I was sat in the vaccination centre on the day my dad, Alan, got his jab. I was sitting there trying to hold back the tears.
‘I was working around the clock... I only gave myself Christmas Day off ’
Through all of this, we are still mothers, daughters and wives, and we worry about our families back home.
I am a self-professed daddy’s girl, so to see him get his vaccine when it was his turn was a lovely experience.
Looking back at the year, certain moments in particular stand out to me.
The first is sitting with my first Covid patient who passed away. That’s when I used the modest platform I have as a councillor to get the message out there that we need to protect ourselves and others as much as possible.
There’s excitement to get the vaccine out there. We’re approaching the end and the roll-out is our way out. I handed in my notice. It was still hard to do it because you still feel that you should do more, but it’s under control and we can see the green shoots of hope.