A month ago, I went to church in Aberdeen and a woman prayed over me. I knew some decisions needed to be made.
I had no idea that COVID-19 would make those decisions for me.
I went to London for work. I went to stay at my Mum’s in Edinburgh. I travelled down to Berkshire. I travelled down to London again. I walked 30 miles. We travelled back to Berkshire. I drove back to Edinburgh. I sensed the world was about to change, and I really felt the distance the further I drove. Friends were too busy to catch up or see me while I was in Edinburgh. My friends abroad were starting to go on lockdown or following strict social distancing guidelines. My friends who are still in the NHS were telling me what they were seeing. Friends with long term health issues were making the decision to self isolate rather than waiting for the government to catch up to the reality that was coming.
I drove back to Aberdeen.
The day before, I had gone onto the World Health Organisation website.
I had downloaded and read the reports.
I had looked at the graphs and the data.
Epidemiology was always what I excelled at when I was studying Public Health. So I could see what needed to be done. I knew what the implications would be.
Tears spilled down as I drove over the Queensferry Crossing as thoughts whirred through my brain.
My job is at risk.
How am I going to do my job when events inevitably get cancelled?
I may not be able to see friends for months.
The government’s slow reaction is going to put my friends lives at risk.
What am I going to do about the mortgage?
What if I can’t remortgage now that I won’t be able to sell the flat this summer?
Maybe I should rent out the flat and use the money to rent a place closer to friends.
When will I see everyone again?
I prayed to God a simple thought – I don’t know what to do.
What followed was sense that I needed to be in Aberdeen for now.
But God I don’t really want to be in Aberdeen. It’s 127 more miles away from Berkshire, from East Lothian, from Newcastle, from Manchester, from Hampshire, from the Midlands, from London. What about all the costs I’m going to have now? All the things that could go wrong?
And then I saw a rainbow appear over the Forth.
Another over Dunfermline.
Another over Kinross.
I saw rainbow.
One would disappear out of sight as the road meandered away from it’s view, only for another to appear on a different horizon.
There were so many during that drive that by the time I got to Dundee I’d lost count after 10 of them.
Everything will work out in the end.
I am with you.
And so since getting back, I’ve worked on the assumption that this is it. I’m hear until next year. I likely won’t be going out much until August unless a treatment or vaccine is found first.
But this isn’t the end of the world.
It might suck.
But we will come through.