COVID-19 lockdown diary: An unwelcome guest and circling back to the year that was

Exactly a year ago today, the Philippines was placed uder the scheme officially called the “enhanced community quarantine” to stem the spread of the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19).

Metro Manila, which logged the most cases was placed under lockdown a day earlier. Establishments closed, borders were set up, and public transportation was suspended. As a result, many resorted to panic-buying, and laborers, including returning migrant workers, were stranded.

The pandemic caused all plans and familiarities to suddenly evaporate. Time was distinguished as pre-Corona and the “new normal”, and homes that used to provide comfort after a long day’s work became workplaces themselves, then started to feel like prison cells.

It’s ironic how, now, with daily infections continually soaring and breaking records, we have less restrictions in movement. Now that three COVID-19 variants of concern have been detected in the country — the more transmissible B.1.1.7 and B.1.351, first detected in the United Kingdom and South Africa, respectively; and the P.1 variant first detected in Brazil, which was found to evade the body’s immune response — as well as the P.3 variant that emerged in the Philippines, whose combined mutations are from those three aforementioned variants of concern — the national government has opened domestic and international borders and allowed more businesses, including leisure sites, such as cinemas and theme parks, to resume operations. There was also an attempt to standardize travel protocols, but local officials were given the greenlight to impose their own policies. The move was seen to boost local tourism, one of the most hit industries, but, of course, the uniform-in-theory measures only caused confusion.

In One News’ townhall special “Kumusta Na Ba Tayo?” last Sunday, Dr. Beverly Ho of the Department of Health’s Health Protection Bureau pointed out that where the country’s health sector lacked, other sectors contributed. “Less reactive and more collaborative” was how she described this joint effort.

While the country had only one testing center when the pandemic started, Ho continued, it now has 229. Isolation facilities, likewise, increased from only on in New Clark City to more than 9,000 across than a country.

She said the country’s healthcare system would have drastically improved, in terms of facilities, investments, and human resources after — and because of — this pandemic.

Filipino-American molecular biologist, Fr. Nicanor Austriaco, who is also a fellow at the OCTA Research group, also said he was “proud” of how the country addressed the public health emergency given its limited resources.

Yet, Austriaco pointed out “leaky” quarantine measures in the country that, he said, allowed the new COVID-19 variants to enter our borders and spread in communities, whereas other nations managed to do the opposite.

A year since the World Health Organization declared the COVID-19 outbreak a pandemic, the stories I only knew as a news consumer, a journalist myself, and a friend to some people who survived the disease became something I lived: COVID-19 became an unwelcome guest in my household.

We received confirmation that my partner, who’s been living with me, tested positive of SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19. For about a week, he’d had productive cough and high fever with the temperature reaching up to 39.0 degrees Celsius at one point.

On the day we received his RT-PCR swab test result, we reported the situation immediately to the barangay and our condominium building’s property managers. Three days since then, the only response we received from the barangay, after many follow-up calls, was to wait. Our condominium administrators had yet to check on us or even issue an advisory that someone in the building had been infected.

Granted, our isolation facilities and hospitals were overwhelmed and overcrowded due to the spike in cases, but the least we hoped for at the time was some professional medical advice. Or, maybe, some assurance that our case was being monitored.

We were only self-medicating, basing our actions on what survivor friends and information availble online would tell us: treat the symptoms. Drink paracetamol for the fever. Take cough medicines. Lay inclined. Hydrate. Keep your distance and always wear face masks.

By the time my partner was brought to the hospital and underwent laboratory tests, he had pneumonia.

The awareness of our — as individuals and, collectively, as a nation — pandemic situation had never felt so devastatingly despairing until then. We were left to our own devices. I’ve always had some hope. I guess that’s why I still am in the profession. But I could barely contain my emotions that time.

If we didn’t have some money to spare, we wouldn’t have been able to take COVID-19 antigen tests and a confirmatory RT-PCR followup, as these are barely covered by medical insurance and private employers. Because we could afford to miss out on some work days and lose the corresponding daily wages, we filed for unpaid leaves. If we hadn’t known people in the right places, I doubt my partner would even get the medical attention he needed.

If we hadn’t pulled some strings — I contacted someone from the Public Information Office and my partner’s aunt reached out to her neighbor, a medical doctor at the COVID-19 facility in one of our three city hospitals — I doubt any assistance would have come our way.

I am aware I am speaking from a more privileged standpoint — and while I am grateful for the resources at my disposal, it is also painful to know there are people out there who may be showing more severe symptoms yet couldn’t miss a day’s work, afford testing, or have access to health care.

All the more is it infuriating to know that trillions of pesos in foreign loans and aid have been allocated to the country’s pandemic response, but all we can show for it are record-high tallies of new infections and the slow roll-out of our limited, donated supply of vaccines.

If that man addressing the public every day thinks this is what constitutes an “excellent” response, what of other countries then, like Taiwan, which has only reported 10 deaths and less than a thousand total cases among its 24 million people?

What of them?

What becomes of us? •