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Coronavirus: My Experience During the Pandemic

Anastasiya Kandratsenka George Washington High School, Class of 2021

At this point in time there shouldn't be a single person who doesn't know about the coronavirus, or as they call it, COVID-19. The coronavirus is a virus that originated in China, reached the U.S. and eventually spread all over the world by January of 2020. The common symptoms of the virus include shortness of breath, chills, sore throat, headache, loss of taste and smell, runny nose, vomiting and nausea. As it has been established, it might take up to 14 days for the symptoms to show. On top of that, the virus is also highly contagious putting all age groups at risk. The elderly and individuals with chronic diseases such as pneumonia or heart disease are in the top risk as the virus attacks the immune system. 

The virus first appeared on the news and media platforms in the month of January of this year. The United States and many other countries all over the globe saw no reason to panic as it seemed that the virus presented no possible threat. Throughout the next upcoming months, the virus began to spread very quickly, alerting health officials not only in the U.S., but all over the world. As people started digging into the origin of the virus, it became clear that it originated in China. Based on everything scientists have looked at, the virus came from a bat that later infected other animals, making it way to humans. As it goes for the United States, the numbers started rising quickly, resulting in the cancellation of sports events, concerts, large gatherings and then later on schools. 

As it goes personally for me, my school was shut down on March 13th. The original plan was to put us on a two weeks leave, returning on March 30th but, as the virus spread rapidly and things began escalating out of control very quickly, President Trump announced a state of emergency and the whole country was put on quarantine until April 30th. At that point, schools were officially shut down for the rest of the school year. Distanced learning was introduced, online classes were established, a new norm was put in place. As for the School District of Philadelphia distanced learning and online classes began on May 4th. From that point on I would have classes four times a week, from 8AM till 3PM. Virtual learning was something that I never had to experience and encounter before. It was all new and different for me, just as it was for millions of students all over the United States. We were forced to transfer from physically attending school, interacting with our peers and teachers, participating in fun school events and just being in a classroom setting, to just looking at each other through a computer screen in a number of days. That is something that we all could have never seen coming, it was all so sudden and new. 

My experience with distanced learning was not very great. I get distracted very easily and   find it hard to concentrate, especially when it comes to school. In a classroom I was able to give my full attention to what was being taught, I was all there. However, when we had the online classes, I could not focus and listen to what my teachers were trying to get across. I got distracted very easily, missing out on important information that was being presented. My entire family which consists of five members, were all home during the quarantine. I have two little siblings who are very loud and demanding, so I’m sure it can be imagined how hard it was for me to concentrate on school and do what was asked of me when I had these two running around the house. On top of school, I also had to find a job and work 35 hours a week to support my family during the pandemic. My mother lost her job for the time being and my father was only able to work from home. As we have a big family, the income of my father was not enough. I made it my duty to help out and support our family as much as I could: I got a job at a local supermarket and worked there as a cashier for over two months. 

While I worked at the supermarket, I was exposed to dozens of people every day and with all the protection that was implemented to protect the customers and the workers, I was lucky enough to not get the virus. As I say that, my grandparents who do not even live in the U.S. were not so lucky. They got the virus and spent over a month isolated, in a hospital bed, with no one by their side. Our only way of communicating was through the phone and if lucky, we got to talk once a week. Speaking for my family, that was the worst and scariest part of the whole situation. Luckily for us, they were both able to recover completely. 

As the pandemic is somewhat under control, the spread of the virus has slowed down. We’re now living in the new norm. We no longer view things the same, the way we did before. Large gatherings and activities that require large groups to come together are now unimaginable! Distanced learning is what we know, not to mention the importance of social distancing and having to wear masks anywhere and everywhere we go. This is the new norm now and who knows when and if ever we’ll be able go back to what we knew before. This whole experience has made me realize that we, as humans, tend to take things for granted and don’t value what we have until it is taken away from us. 

Articles in this Volume

[tid]: dedication, [tid]: new tools for a new house: transformations for justice and peace in and beyond covid-19, [tid]: black lives matter, intersectionality, and lgbtq rights now, [tid]: the voice of asian american youth: what goes untold, [tid]: beyond words: reimagining education through art and activism, [tid]: voice(s) of a black man, [tid]: embodied learning and community resilience, [tid]: re-imagining professional learning in a time of social isolation: storytelling as a tool for healing and professional growth, [tid]: reckoning: what does it mean to look forward and back together as critical educators, [tid]: leader to leaders: an indigenous school leader’s advice through storytelling about grief and covid-19, [tid]: finding hope, healing and liberation beyond covid-19 within a context of captivity and carcerality, [tid]: flux leadership: leading for justice and peace in & beyond covid-19, [tid]: flux leadership: insights from the (virtual) field, [tid]: hard pivot: compulsory crisis leadership emerges from a space of doubt, [tid]: and how are the children, [tid]: real talk: teaching and leading while bipoc, [tid]: systems of emotional support for educators in crisis, [tid]: listening leadership: the student voices project, [tid]: global engagement, perspective-sharing, & future-seeing in & beyond a global crisis, [tid]: teaching and leadership during covid-19: lessons from lived experiences, [tid]: crisis leadership in independent schools - styles & literacies, [tid]: rituals, routines and relationships: high school athletes and coaches in flux, [tid]: superintendent back-to-school welcome 2020, [tid]: mitigating summer learning loss in philadelphia during covid-19: humble attempts from the field, [tid]: untitled, [tid]: the revolution will not be on linkedin: student activism and neoliberalism, [tid]: why radical self-care cannot wait: strategies for black women leaders now, [tid]: from emergency response to critical transformation: online learning in a time of flux, [tid]: illness methodology for and beyond the covid era, [tid]: surviving black girl magic, the work, and the dissertation, [tid]: cancelled: the old student experience, [tid]: lessons from liberia: integrating theatre for development and youth development in uncertain times, [tid]: designing a more accessible future: learning from covid-19, [tid]: the construct of standards-based education, [tid]: teachers leading teachers to prepare for back to school during covid, [tid]: using empathy to cross the sea of humanity, [tid]: (un)doing college, community, and relationships in the time of coronavirus, [tid]: have we learned nothing, [tid]: choosing growth amidst chaos, [tid]: living freire in pandemic….participatory action research and democratizing knowledge at knowledgedemocracy.org, [tid]: philly students speak: voices of learning in pandemics, [tid]: the power of will: a letter to my descendant, [tid]: photo essays with students, [tid]: unity during a global pandemic: how the fight for racial justice made us unite against two diseases, [tid]: educational changes caused by the pandemic and other related social issues, [tid]: online learning during difficult times, [tid]: fighting crisis: a student perspective, [tid]: the destruction of soil rooted with culture, [tid]: a demand for change, [tid]: education through experience in and beyond the pandemics, [tid]: the pandemic diaries, [tid]: all for one and 4 for $4, [tid]: tiktok activism, [tid]: why digital learning may be the best option for next year, [tid]: my 2020 teen experience, [tid]: living between two pandemics, [tid]: journaling during isolation: the gold standard of coronavirus, [tid]: sailing through uncertainty, [tid]: what i wish my teachers knew, [tid]: youthing in pandemic while black, [tid]: the pain inflicted by indifference, [tid]: education during the pandemic, [tid]: the good, the bad, and the year 2020, [tid]: racism fueled pandemic, [tid]: coronavirus: my experience during the pandemic, [tid]: the desensitization of a doomed generation, [tid]: a philadelphia war-zone, [tid]: the attack of the covid monster, [tid]: back-to-school: covid-19 edition, [tid]: the unexpected war, [tid]: learning outside of the classroom, [tid]: why we should learn about college financial aid in school: a student perspective, [tid]: flying the plane as we go: building the future through a haze, [tid]: my covid experience in the age of technology, [tid]: we, i, and they, [tid]: learning your a, b, cs during a pandemic, [tid]: quarantine: a musical, [tid]: what it’s like being a high school student in 2020, [tid]: everything happens for a reason, [tid]: blacks live matter – a sobering and empowering reality among my peers, [tid]: the mental health of a junior during covid-19 outbreaks, [tid]: a year of change, [tid]: covid-19 and school, [tid]: the virtues and vices of virtual learning, [tid]: college decisions and the year 2020: a virtual rollercoaster, [tid]: quarantine thoughts, [tid]: quarantine through generation z, [tid]: attending online school during a pandemic.

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Community Reflections

My life experience during the covid-19 pandemic.

Melissa Blanco Follow

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Affiliation with sacred heart university.

Undergraduate, Class of 2024

My content explains what my life was like during the last seven months of the Covid-19 pandemic and how it affected my life both positively and negatively. It also explains what it was like when I graduated from High School and how I want the future generations to remember the Class of 2020.

Class assignment, Western Civilization (Dr. Marino).

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Blanco, Melissa, "My Life Experience During the Covid-19 Pandemic" (2020). Community Reflections . 21. https://digitalcommons.sacredheart.edu/covid19-reflections/21

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Essay on My Quarantine Experience

Students are often asked to write an essay on My Quarantine Experience in their schools and colleges. And if you’re also looking for the same, we have created 100-word, 250-word, and 500-word essays on the topic.

Let’s take a look…

100 Words Essay on My Quarantine Experience

Beginning of quarantine.

When the pandemic first hit, we were told to stay at home. This was called quarantine. At first, it was strange. Schools were closed. I could not meet my friends. I had to stay at home all day.

Adjusting to New Routine

Soon, I got used to the new routine. I started taking online classes. I could talk to my friends on video calls. I also helped my parents with house chores. It was a new way of life.

Learning New Skills

Quarantine gave me a lot of free time. I used this time to learn new things. I learned to cook. I also learned to play the guitar. I read many books. It was fun.

Missing Normal Life

Even though I was learning new things, I missed my old life. I missed going to school. I missed playing with my friends in the park. I wished for things to go back to normal.

End of Quarantine

Finally, after many months, quarantine ended. I was happy. I could go back to school. I could meet my friends. But I will always remember the time I spent in quarantine. It was a unique experience.

250 Words Essay on My Quarantine Experience

Starting quarantine.

In March 2020, my life changed a lot. A virus called COVID-19 started spreading all over the world. Because of this, everyone had to stay at home to be safe. This time at home is called quarantine.

My Daily Routine

During quarantine, my daily routine changed. I used to go to school, play with friends, and visit parks. But now, I stayed at home all day. I started studying online. I also helped my parents with house chores. It was a new and different experience for me.

Being at home gave me time to learn new things. I started cooking, painting, and even gardening. I also read a lot of books. It was fun to learn new skills.

Missing Friends and Family

The hardest part of quarantine was not meeting my friends and family. I missed playing and laughing with them. But we found a way out. We started talking and playing games online. It was not the same but it was better than nothing.

Understanding the Importance of Health

Quarantine made me realize how important it is to stay healthy. I started doing exercises at home. I also learned to eat healthy food. This made me feel good and strong.

Final Thoughts

Quarantine was a tough time for everyone. But it also taught us many things. It taught me to be patient, to value health, and to learn new skills. It was a different experience, but I learned a lot from it.

500 Words Essay on My Quarantine Experience

Starting my quarantine.

My quarantine experience started in March 2020 when the world began to fight a new virus called COVID-19. Schools, shops, parks, and almost everything else closed. We all had to stay at home to stay safe. It was a strange and scary time. But it was also a time to learn new things and find new ways to have fun.

Online School

One of the first changes was school. Instead of going to school, we started doing school at home on the computer. This was called online learning. I would log in every morning and do my classes on a video call with my teacher and classmates. It was different, but I still got to learn and see my friends.

Family Time

With everyone at home, my family started spending a lot more time together. We would cook, play games, and watch movies. It was nice to have so much family time. It made me feel safe and happy even when things were scary outside.

New Hobbies

Being at home also gave me time to try new things. I started learning how to draw, and I even tried to learn a new language. I also read a lot of books and watched a lot of movies. These new hobbies made the days go by faster and kept me busy.

Missing Friends

One of the hardest parts of quarantine was not seeing my friends. I missed playing and talking with them. But we found ways to stay in touch. We would have video calls and play online games together. It was not the same as being together in person, but it was still fun.

Staying Active

With parks and sports clubs closed, it was hard to stay active. But my family and I found ways to exercise at home. We would do workouts in the living room or go for walks in our neighborhood. Staying active helped me feel good and stay healthy.

The End of Quarantine

After many months, things started to get better. Shops and parks started to open again, and I even got to go back to school. It was a relief to see things getting back to normal. But I also felt proud. I had made it through a tough time and learned a lot along the way.

In conclusion, my quarantine experience was a mix of good and bad. It was hard to not see my friends and to have to stay at home all the time. But I also learned new things, spent time with my family, and found new ways to have fun. It was a time I will never forget.

That’s it! I hope the essay helped you.

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The Benefits of Being Inside: My Experience of Quarantine

Therapist josh hogan shares his experience of quarantine after developing coronavirus symptoms, his period of self-isolation had ups and downs as he was both forced to, and made the effort to, look inwards, if you would like to talk to a therapist, start your search here.

I have seen a quote doing the rounds on social media that seems apposite during present events: “If you can’t go outside, go inside.” I cannot find the original author of the quote - perhaps it belongs to an ancient sage, or perhaps it was a random tweet that went viral in the last few weeks. Either way, for me it sums up a helpful way through the health crisis that we are facing.

Coping during lockdown

As I write, a third of the world’s population is on ‘lockdown’, meaning severely restricted movement outside of the home. In the UK, if you display any of the known symptoms of Covid-19 you are required to stay indoors for seven days, while members of your household are to stay in for fourteen. Everyone should be limiting their trips outside to the bare essentials. Workers not considered ‘essential’ to the national effort are asked not to go to work; social gatherings of more than two people are subject to a blanket ban. Everyone is affected by this, everyone’s way of life has changed dramatically in the last two weeks. Most of us will need to get used to spending a lot of time indoors, which is where that quote becomes relevant, as we close our doors and get better acquainted with our own interior lives.

For me, ‘going inside’ means sitting with myself and focusing on what is going on internally. Of course it might mean completely different things to different people. Having been forced to spend a significant amount of time indoors, I find myself increasingly drawn to the idea of exploring my internal reactions to what’s going on.

The coronavirus crisis is being called a once-in-a-century event, and it’s easy to concur with that description. The only similar event in living memory for us Brits will be the blackouts of the Second World War. Perhaps the most alarming thing about this experience is how out of the blue it was, as well as how quickly it escalated.

In January when I first heard about this mysterious virus that was claiming hundreds of lives in China, like most of us I couldn’t imagine the same thing ever happening here. Yet as I write today I sit at home in quarantine, having developed the symptoms of that very virus last week. It’s just been announced that the Prime Minister and the heir to the throne have the virus too. It seems no one will escape the fallout.

I wasn’t expecting self-isolation to be fun, and it hasn’t been. For a few days last week I was very unwell, suffering from the worst case of flu I’d ever had. This week I’ve experienced a slow but steady recovery. I gather from official government advice that I should have stopped being contagious a few days ago, and so I am once more able to venture to the shops to meet my basic needs. But I wouldn’t say I am 100% back to normal health. I am lucky to be relatively young and fit, so I’ve had nothing more than a bad case of the flu, where many others will endure far worse. My thoughts during this time have frequently turned to the countless people who won’t survive this awful illness, and to the brave healthcare workers who will look after them.

It has been a shock to the system, on both a personal and a national level. I rarely ever get ill, and I don’t like it when I do. Remaining indoors for seven days gets exhausting – having infinite choice when it comes to streamable films and TV shows is more of a curse than a blessing.

Finding some peace

Quite apart from the ongoing economic fallout, I’ve been stunned to observe the impact on the once busy streets of my home city, which for the first time in my life could be described as ‘quiet’. The significant fall in traffic is already being said to correlate with much cleaner air in our skies. Luckily my infrequent trips to the shop this week have been peaceful, my fellow shoppers always standing a polite two metres apart, smiling and nodding as I get in line behind them. The good will that we’re expressing towards our healthcare workers and towards each other is one of the heartening aspects of all of this.

Having to spend so much time inside has taught me that I need to find better solutions to boredom. Online TV bingeing has been my go to antidote to lethargy, and after a solid week of it I can confirm that it makes the problem worse.

At the start of all this, naturally I pledged to be good and accomplish all the things I wouldn’t normally have time to do, such as daily meditating. As the lockdown continues I find these tasks to be more and more vital to my wellbeing. While I can’t go outside I really have no option other than to ‘go inside’, where I stand a chance of assuaging my innate anxiety. At first, having all this time to meditate makes me oddly resistant to it, which tells me that I must persevere. When I focus on my breathing and on what’s going on in my body at the present moment, I can’t get caught up in worrying about the future and what’s going to happen with this virus. Unlike Netflix and the 24 hour news channels, practising mindfulness doesn’t leave me feeling frustrated or triggered or fatigued. It is a source of replenishment that sees me through to the next day.

Josh Hogan is a verified welldoing.org therapist who works in London and online

Further reading

Welldoing.org's 8 coronavirus mental health tips, unexpected endings: support for young people after school closures, using exercise and cbt techniques to combat lockdown anxiety, 6 youtube videos for mindfulness meditation, self-care tips from an introvert: how to make the most of isolation, find welldoing therapists near you, related articles, recent posts.

3 Tips for Mindful Communication in Intimate Relationships

Meet the Therapist: Eric B. Litwack

What is Family Constellations Therapy?

Spring Clean Your Inner World: 5 Simple Habits for a Brighter You

Meet the Therapist: Matt Thomas

How to ADHD: 4 Organisational Tips I Wish I Learned Sooner

Who Deserves a Welldoing Inspiration Award?

Book of the Month: The Anxious Generation by Jonathan Haidt

5 Surprising Things About Grief

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Alvin Powell and his mother, Alynne Martelle, who passed away from COVID-19 in April 2020.

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Portraits of Loss

Alvin powell.

A collection of stories and essays that illustrate the indelible mark left on our community by a pandemic that touched all our lives.

I remember thinking, “I guess I’m having the full COVID-19 experience,” though I knew immediately it wasn’t true. Having the full experience would mean switching places with the frail woman before me. It would mean my eyes were the ones that were closed, my breath silent and shallow.

But I also knew she wouldn’t want it that way. My mother, Alynne Martelle, was protective like that.

It was April 2020, and I was sitting in a Connecticut nursing home across the bed from my sister Kelly San Martin. I wasn’t thinking about how outlandishly I was dressed, but each glance across the bed provided a reminder. We were both wearing thin, disposable yellow gowns and too-big rubber gloves, with surgical masks covering our noses and mouths. We were each hoping the protection would be enough, but at that point in the pandemic’s first spring surge, nothing seemed certain.

Earlier that day — a Friday — I had been working from home and heard from my sister that my mom, 80 and diagnosed with COVID-19, had taken a turn for the worse. I called the nursing home where she’d lived for nearly five years, and the nurse said to come right away. So I told my editors at the Gazette what was going on, got in the car, and headed down the Pike.

I had a couple of hours to think during the drive. As a science writer for the Gazette, I routinely monitor disease outbreaks around the world — SARS, H1N1, seasonal flu — and discuss them with experts at the University. My hope is to lend perspective for readers on news that can seem too distant to be threatening — yet to which they might want to pay attention— or things that seem threateningly close, but in fact are rare enough that the screaming headlines may not be warranted.

“I suspect that a nursing home isn’t part of anyone’s plan for their final years, and it certainly wasn’t for my mother.“ Alvin Powell

There were two times during my coverage of the pandemic that I felt an almost physical sensation — that pit-of-the-stomach feeling of shock or fear. The first was when Marc Lipsitch, an epidemiologist and head of the Harvard Chan School’s Center for Communicable Disease Dynamics, said early on that, unlike its recent predecessors SARS and MERS, which got people very sick, this virus also caused a lot of mild or asymptomatic cases. As that news sank in, I realized how difficult the future might become: How can you stop something before you know it’s there?

The second time I had that feeling was just a few weeks later. Through February 2020, the number of cases in the U.S. and globally had continued to grow, and it became clear that a major public health emergency was underway. Harvard’s experts, among many others, were offering a way forward, and I was writing regularly about the pandemic, about the new-to-me concept of “social distancing” and the importance of using masks to reduce spread — even as faculty members at our hospitals were also warning of shortages of personal protective equipment, or PPE — another term now embedded in our daily language. That was when President Donald Trump used the word “hoax” in discussing the pandemic. When I read that I thought, “This could get a lot worse.”

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By the third week in April, it had. Then, of course, the winter’s much larger surge was still just a vague threat and 100,000 deaths nationally from COVID-19 would soon warrant front-page treatment in The New York Times. Nursing homes — which concentrated society’s frail and elderly — had been hit hard early, as protective measures were being worked out and individual habits — life-saving ones — were still being ingrained.

I suspect that a nursing home isn’t part of anyone’s plan for their final years, and it certainly wasn’t for my mother. She was born in Hartford, poor and proudly Irish. She was artistic, eccentric, and joked later in life that if she hyphenated all her last names, she’d be Alynne Cummings-Powell-Martelle-Martelle-Herzberger-Harripersaud. Though she was tough on her husbands, she was easy on her kids. Despite the roiling of her married life, our home in the Hartford suburbs was mostly stable. That was largely due to the stick-to-it-iveness of my stepfather Sal — the two Martelles in there — and the fact that her four kids never doubted that she loved them.

She traveled even more than she married, preferring out-of-the-way places and bringing home images of the people who lived there. Among her destinations, she spent a summer in Calcutta volunteering at one of Mother Teresa’s orphanages and, on her return, she struck up a correspondence with the future saint.

Alynne Martell (center) surrounded by her children, Laura Lynne Powell (clockwise from left), Kelly San Martin, Alvin Powell, and Joseph Martelle. They are pictured at Hawks Nest Beach in Old Lyme, Conn., where they’ve gone for a week each summer for more than 45 years. Powell and his mother on a family kayak trip on the Black Hall River in Old Lyme.

Mom’s later years were difficult. Her mental decline had her moving from independent to assisted living and then to round-the-clock care. In the last year, her physical health and mobility had declined as well. When my mother spiked a fever in April, my siblings and I assumed it was COVID. It took the doctors some time to work through the possibilities, but they eventually got there, too. They and the nurses reminded us that it was not universally fatal, but nonetheless asked whether she had a living will. She did, and wanted no extraordinary measures taken.

Though many hospitals and nursing homes weren’t allowing visitors, the home where my mother stayed would let us in. Several family members had converged on the parking lot there, and we had a robust discussion of how safe it would be to go inside. My mother’s room was on the first floor, and some family members peered through its sliding glass door. My sister and I decided it was worth the risk to sit with Mom during her final hours, as she would have if indeed our places had been reversed.

On that Friday when Kelly and I entered the lobby, the facility appeared to be taking necessary precautions. In addition to providing PPE, they questioned us about our health and took our temperatures before letting us farther into the building. The main thing I was uneasy about was the use of surgical masks rather than N95 respirators. The N95s, I thought, would provide a level of protection commensurate with sitting in a place where we knew the virus was circulating.

On the second day, two friends teamed up to get us the N95s one had stockpiled during the 2009 H1N1 epidemic. We met in the parking lot for the handover — accomplished with profuse thanks and at a safe distance. The masks eased my mind. The key to weathering the pandemic came not from hiding away, but from a clear-eyed assessment of risks and having a plan to manage them. I had also learned during months of covering the pandemic that even measures inadequate on their own could be powerful when layered over one another. So, though it now seems like overkill, after doffing all the protective gear on the way out, we also changed into clean clothes in the chilly April parking lot, our modesty shielded by open car doors. We stowed the dirty clothes in plastic bags in the trunk and made liberal use of the giant bottle of hand sanitizer Kelly had brought.

“My mom had a metal sculpture of herself made by artist Karen Rossi. Her four kids are hanging off her feet in mobile-style,” writes Alvin Powell.

The result was that my sister and I were able to sit with my mom for several hours over the weekend. She was mostly asleep or unconscious but roused herself, seeming to rise from a place deep inside, to rasp out that she loved us. Then she retreated inward again.

Mom died the following Monday, and I went into home quarantine for two weeks, breaking it once to head back down the Pike to make arrangements with a completely overwhelmed funeral home. She had wanted to be cremated, but the crematorium was also backed up, so they refrigerated her body for several days until they could get to her. Afterward, my brother, Joe Martelle, picked up her remains and brought her home to await her burial.

But we delayed too. We put off her funeral until the family could gather for the bash she wanted as a farewell — she’d picked out the music and assigned tasks to different family members — Joe and I were to build the wooden box for interment. “August,” I initially thought. Then “October.” I was sure about October. My sister in Sacramento, Laura Lynne Powell, had suggested early on we might have to wait for the April anniversary of her death, which at the time seemed ridiculously distant since the pandemic surely would be controlled by then. Now, of course, April’s here and it is still too early for a big gathering.

In the year since my mother died, I’ve been back at work and have continued to learn as much as I can in order to convey our shifting — yet advancing — knowledge to readers. I’ve been repeatedly reminded how far I still am from “the full COVID experience” because the virus seems insatiable and just keeps on taking.

I don’t for a minute think my family is unique in its impacts, but many of those around me have experienced some ugly aspect of it. My son was laid off; my daughter’s 18th birthday, high school graduation, and freshman year in college have been canceled, delayed, or distorted beyond recognition. Two daughters and four grandchildren have been diagnosed with COVID and recovered. In February, four family friends in my Massachusetts town saw the contagion flare through their households, while my own family in Connecticut watched with concern as a loved one became severely ill, later rejoicing at her recovery after treatment with remdesivir.

The pandemic picture seems to have become even muddier lately, devolving into a foot race between vaccines and variants. Through much of March, vaccines seemed sure to win, but warnings from public health officials have become dire of late, warning of too-soon reopenings and the potential for a fourth surge. My stepfather Sal has gotten his second vaccine dose though, so hopefully he, at least, is out of harm’s way. I’m also hearing of friends and family whose first dose appointments are looming. That gives me hope and serves as a reminder that there is one part of “the full COVID experience” I’m looking forward to: its end.

Alvin Powell is the Harvard Gazette’s senior science writer.

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