When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t sure if it was Saturday, Sunday or Tuesday. In fact it’s Blurs-day, which is what happens when you’re in lockdown because of an outbreak, and one day is so much like the next that you can’t tell them apart.
On January 19 Two staff members tested positive for Covid. I wasn’t surprised because I figured it would be brought in by someone who worked here. Us residents don’t get out too much anymore. For the next 10 days at least – assuming there are no other – we are in full lockdown. What’s it like to live in long-term care during a Covid outbreak?
I’m always fascinated by the logistics of running this place. The first couple of days were mass confusion as managers figured out how to cope with the new reality. Normally, one PSW is responsible for two floors. They help each other out when two people are required to transfer a resident like me. Doing this during an outbreak, though, would encourage cross-contamination. This means they must have two PSWs to take care of two floors only. It also means designating separate break rooms, because you can’t have workers all hanging out together in one area potentially passing on nasty Covid cooties.
Some residents have been exposed to the two staff members more than others. They’re now in isolation until tests prove they don’t have Covid or, in the worst-case scenario, they’ve recovered from it and are no longer a threat of spreading it to other residents. When someone is in isolation it means the workers have to put on a face shield (over a mask), a gown, gloves and booties. It’s time consuming and stressful for both the resident and the worker, knowing there’s potential for getting dangerously sick.
Food distribution is a bit of a nightmare. Normally, there are two sittings for lunch and supper. Over the last four days I’ve had meals very early, or very late, and usually cold. Temperature and timing aren’t big issues with me, but they seem to have forgotten that I’m lactose intolerant. My tray often arrives with a glass of milk and pudding for dessert. More troubling, there is often not very much food. That’s one thing they need to fix!
Obviously, an outbreak means no visitors, and we don’t leave our apartments for anything, such as meals, activities or restorative care. We can’t even go to the lobby to pick up our mail; it’s brought to us. No showers, baths, or leaving the building for a breath of fresh air.
Little gestures and acts of kindness mean so much, not just for residents but the workers too. The families of residents sponsor pizza lunches for them, who are going above and beyond to keep us happy. Taking care of the caretakers. It feels good to know they are being told that their work is appreciated. The kitchen tries to do little things to keep me happy, such as sending extra ice because they know I use it.
How do I feel about all this? I felt most stressed when it first began, Wednesday night and Thursday morning. I have some background worry but at this point I don’t feel really vulnerable or threatened. That’s because some residents are actually in isolation. They are on the fourth and fifth floors, some on third and I think a couple on second. No one on my floor. Also, I stopped going down for meals four days before the outbreak, which would limit my exposure. The worst of it, at least as far as I’m concerned, are no showers or baths for the 10 days, and no leaving the building for a breath of fresh air. No showers or baths I can understand because the risk of transmission in that hot, steamy environment is too high. No going outside is harder to accept. I suppose they’re trying to minimize the risk of riding the elevator and crossing the lobby to get there, but really, if you’re wearing a mask and social distancing – or you’re completely by yourself – is there that much of a threat?
I’m trying hard not to worry about those news stories where Covid get into an LTC home and decimates the residents. I feel like the management here got on top of things early and quickly and that will be okay. I guess only time will tell.