I was on a flight to Shanghai, China on January 7, 2020 when I first heard of the coronavirus. I picked up a China Daily newspaper before boarding the plane in Toronto and on Page 3 of the China Daily, I began to read about Hong Kong unveiling measures to prevent the spread of a “pneumonia-like” disease that had emerged in Wuhan, China in December 2019. There were 30 cases.
At this point a lot of things were unknown. No one knew what kind of virus this was. No one knew how badly this virus would come to impact daily life and the economy, globally. No one knew how fast it would spread. No one knew how deadly it would be.
I read this article in the China Daily not thinking that this virus would be anything more than something impacting a province 11,000 km away from us in Canada. Little did I know what we were in for.
A front page story on coronavirus in the January 21, 2020 Khaleej Times (Dubai, UAE). On January 21 there were 218 cases worldwide and three deaths.
My fiancé and I landed in Shanghai for a stopover on January 8 before travelling onward to Thailand, where we would stay for the next week and a half, before stopping in Dubai and then heading to Europe. The Shanghai airport seemed normal.
On January 13, Thailand’s first case emerged. We noticed that Thai newspapers now had their front pages dedicated to the virus.
On January 21 we picked up a newspaper in Dubai, which now referred to the virus as a “new coronavirus” with 218 cases and three deaths (only four cases outside of China: two in Thailand, one in Japan, and one in South Korea).
The headline of one newspaper: “World on alert as China virus spreads”, and another: “Why the world should be worried”.
When in Paris, cases began popping up around us (first case on January 24) and we started to become wary when travelling by subway. Cases started to appear it seemed like wherever we travelled.
The virus wasn’t confirmed to have hit Canada until January 25, with its first case arriving in Toronto with a man travelling from Wuhan.
Throughout our three weeks away, the virus changed from an unknown virus infecting a small group of people in the Chinese Hubei Province to a full-blown epidemic (and later a pandemic).
We landed back in Toronto on January 28. Airport staff wore masks, as did all passengers returning on flights from China. We were certain we would be screened at the airport, given our stop in China, and our travels to places that already had many cases. The electronic customs kiosk asked if we had travelled to Hubei Province, which we had not, and the customs agent asked where else we travelled. There seemed to be no alarm. I had a cold at the time, which might have been a red flag a mere week or two later.
Over the coming weeks this virus became more than anyone thought it would. Never could we have imagined that schools, parks, and workplaces would close, sports would stop, there would be no more gatherings of more than five people, and we would see people wearing gloves or masks out in public.
And here we are; it’s here and it’s real. This week and last, The Press had more than a full page of obituaries. I don’t know how many were related to COVID-19, as only a couple specifically stated it, but we normally only see maybe four to five obituaries each week. We see and hear figures coming out each day about number of cases, number of deaths, etc. It breaks my heart to know that each of those numbers has a name, a face, and a family.
It has now been three months since the first case in Canada and wherever we look we’re constantly reminded of the world we’re living in: news hitting our papers, screens, and feeds changes so rapidly we can barely keep up; essential stores having to implement social distancing and installing a plastic shield to protect cashiers; students learning online after abandoning their classrooms one month ago; shortages of medical supplies; tired essential workers trying to catch a break; seniors homes devastated by outbreaks. And this virus isn’t near finished.
We need to band together, support those still working, support small businesses trying to stay afloat, help those most vulnerable, show kindness, and most importantly, keep our distance. Try and take five minutes of your day to do something nice for someone who could use a pick-me-up. If you need that pick-me-up, spend those five minutes (or more) on yourself.
We don’t know how long this will last – but it will pass. Until then, we will stay strong together by staying apart.
