Opinion

Allison Morris: Covid-19 forcing us to have conversations about life and death, even in our own families

An emotional Michelle O'Neill breaks down in the assembly.
An emotional Michelle O'Neill breaks down in the assembly. An emotional Michelle O'Neill breaks down in the assembly.

We rarely see politicians show emotion and so when Deputy First Minister Michelle O'Neill broke down in the assembly chamber this week it was a reality check moment.

The Sinn Féin deputy leader was responding to a question by Jim Allister about a young mother in his constituency, who had been told her cancer treatment was being postponed due to the coronavirus.

"What can you say to that person ... these are the challenges we are going to have to deal with", said Ms O'Neill while struggling to maintain her composure.

And she's right. What can you say to that woman and all the other people who will find themselves in dire situations as a result of this awful virus?

It was also a reminder that we are all citizens of this place, the old hierarchy is now gone, we are all equal in the face of Covid-19.

Who would have ever thought that in the space of just a few weeks we would have gone from 'wash your hands while singing Happy Birthday' to a virtual lockdown and a world where nothing will ever be the same again?

In Northern Ireland our politicians have not always covered themselves in glory or given us reason to trust them with major life altering decisions, but that is what we now must do.

And I commend both Arlene Foster and Michelle O'Neill for the united leadership they have shown this week.

We are in a new world, in a place no one could have predicted and one we have had to adapt to very quickly with very little preparation.

The impact this will have on the mental health of those who find themselves isolated and alone, those who already struggled and now find themselves trapped with their own thoughts is immeasurable.

What will it do to the doctors, nurses and front line staff as they make life and death decisions?

Just over 3,600 people died in our conflict, we almost all know a person who lost their life to violence.

Last week the health minister Robin Swann said a worst case scenario was that 15,000 people could succumb to coronavirus, over four times the number of people who died in conflict.

The local equivalent to the 'Dunkirk Spirit' is 'I survived the Troubles' but this is a very different threat.

An invisible killer that doesn't care who you are or where you came from.

I had a conversation with my mother this week about these very matters.

We talked about news reports of doctors in Italy having to make decisions on who got a ventilator and who was left to die alone, with no family to hold their hand.

She told me that if she was hospitalised I was to tell the doctors to leave her and save a younger person, that she'd lived her life and that we, her eight children, her 17 grandchildren and five great grandchildren were her legacy.

What a conversation to have with the woman who made me the person I am today.

It's all very overwhelming, but we must at all costs keep our sights on why we are taking these precautions and hope that we can keep our humanity and hopefully heal as a society when this is all over.

The people in our NHS who will make these terrible decisions have been praised often but also undervalued in the past, let us never do that again.

And remember among the heroes of this nightmare are the workers the Tory administration labelled, 'low skilled'.

The supermarket checkout staff, the shelf stackers, the lorry drivers, the cleaners, the utility workers all at the front line keeping our families fed and warm, keeping lines of communication open.

And the teachers minding the children of those workers to let them keep the plates spinning.

High stress, long hours, back breaking work for low pay, I send the gratitude of me and my family to you all.

To the community groups, the women's groups, the churches, the food bank people who are doing all they can to help those in need, you're heroes each and every one of you.

And never again will we take for granted a hug with a loved one, a gossip over a bottle of wine with friends, a family celebration.

When this passes, and it will, we'll all be first on the dance floor.

Take care of each other and stay safe.