The housebound and chronically ill have generally been viewed with irritation at best and suspicion at worst. This is especially true of government agencies and medical services, who, pre-coronavirus, considered even a telephone consultation to be the most outlandish of requests. As a result, their assistance has often been inaccessible to those who need it most.
From being invisible before, there is a sense of still being invisible now. I have heard many people rightly despair at the limitations of being confined to the house because of the lockdown, but few who have considered what it might be like to face the same circumstances when seriously ill.
I can only dream of being restricted to the house with the health to occupy myself in any way I choose. The thought of being able to leave my bed when I wish, to have sunlight streaming in through the windows, to entertain myself with music and films and learning, creates an image not of oppression but of blissful freedom. Even the opportunity to be bored seems like a privilege. For my mother too, and other carers like her, the idea of this lockdown affording abundant leisure time is very far from reality. Now that we have cancelled external carers for my protection, her every hour is filled with managing my care needs, on top of running the house completely alone.