'I had an active life': How are shielders surviving lockdown?
“Shielding is lonely, hard work and stressful,” says Vicki Milner, 26, in Bristol. Her asthma means Milner’s lung capacity is that of someone in their 50s. She is one of millions of people with underlying health conditions in the UK who are shielding during the coronavirus pandemic, meaning they are not leaving their home at all, even for exercise or food shopping.
Milner, who works as a solicitor, is not on the limited government shielding list but like many others at risk, has chosen to stay indoors to protect herself. Unable to go out herself and living alone, Milner is finding relying on other people to deliver food and medicine hard. “I was really independent before this,” she says. “I had a very active life and I miss my friends, family and boyfriend. I don’t think people realise how hard it is.”
While lockdown conditions have been eased for the general population, those at particular high risk from coronavirus have been told to stay indoors until at least the end of June. When the Guardian asked readers last week how they were coping, we received a huge number of responses: more than 1,000 people got in touch to discuss anything from missing loved ones, worries over finances and careers, to frustration at the government’s handling of the issue.
Kate Jackson* is a junior doctor who is immunocompromised. It means rather than working on the frontline, she has to shield at home. “The guilt has been awful, with the feeling that I should be ‘doing my part’ and helping share the burden of my colleagues on the wards,” she says.
Due to the nature of medical training, she moved to the area only last
August and worries about asking for help with food supplies. “It feels like a big ask of new friends after their long shifts in sweat-drenched PPE to do a shop for me.”
Jackson feels the government’s “stay alert” slogan is too vague and misinterpretation could be “catastrophic”. “If this was a hospital guideline, it would be sent back to the drawing board as unfit for purpose,” she says.
Michael Benson*, 41, has not had an in-person conversation with anyone since 13 March. Like many who are shielding, Benson, who has a low lung capacity, is struggling with loneliness. His wife is in the US and travel restrictions have prevented them shielding together. “Beyond loneliness, the resulting depression is getting bad,” he says. He believes the UK government “came up with the wrong plan, far too late” and wishes it followed the example of countries such as New Zealand. The government’s lack of diversity, he says, is partly to blame. “They are rich people who live with their families in spacious settings. They can’t understand people [like us].”
“I live on my own and have been finding it difficult. Having no visitors – and no prospect of that – is hard,” agrees Alison Smith, 59, who has chronic fatigue syndrome and fibromyalgia. “I feel like the older and high-risk amongst us are being sacrificed to get the economy going again but I actually feel more sorry for those being forced to work,” Smith says. “I used to commute on the London underground and the thought of having to do that now makes me shudder. I’m tired and also very, very angry.”
For Susan Jenkins*, 58, who is shielding due to a chronic lung condition and is on oxygen 24/7, basic issues such as food are key. It took her weeks to get a government letter to say she was high risk but because of a lack of online food deliveries, her husband and teenage daughter are still having to brace the shops. “Each time they go out, they risk bringing back the virus and it will kill me,” she says.
Jenkins is used to the risks of getting ill – her family wear surgical masks at home if they have just a cold – and is unimpressed by ministers. “I don’t really know what the government’s plan is. Neither do they,” she says. “The one measure the government could take is to start telling the truth and appoint someone as their spokesperson who can construct a sentence.”
Others who are shielding are struggling with the financial impact. Jenny Pearhouse, 35, has severe asthma and is shielding alongside her husband, Chris, and two young daughters – who also have asthma – to keep safe.
Chris works for a supermarket and – like many carers and high-risk workers – has been given leave from work but is not being paid. “We don’t have a rent holiday and still have to pay bills and food,” Jenny says. Government vulnerable food packages do not feed all four of them and they’recurrently surviving on charity from churches and food banks. “I worry every day how we are going to manage.”
Cheyne Moore, 38, is in lockdown in Cornwall with his wife and fouryear-old son who has cystic fibrosis. Moore has had to close his small surfing school but his worries are focused on what being indoors is doing for his son’s health. “He swam every week, skateboards, went to the beach every day before the lockdown. Because of shielding we have not left the house or garden in the best part of eight weeks and all our fitness and health has suffered because of it.”
Moore believes shielding will end up lasting longer than the original planned three months and says provision is going to be needed to support disabled people through it. “The ability to exercise and the mental need for space and fresh air has been deemed essential for the general population from day one, but what about the shielded?”
In Bristol, Milner thinks the government should start to develop measures to help – such as mandating an hour in which only people who are shielding can go outside, which other countries are modelling. “It’s hard to see other people have more freedom, which effectively means the world will move on without us,” she says. “Boris Johnson didn’t mention us in his speech at all. It feels like I’m an afterthought.”
Additional reporting by Paul Campbell
*Some names have been changed