My Life During COVID-19


Sydney Cole

I was in sixth grade when I first heard about COVID-19. I remember sitting in the car with my dad on the way to school, talking about the impending threat. We had just heard about schools in other states closing down, for days and then weeks.

I remember sitting in Mrs. Reagan’s seventh period class, while another student tells the class that the first American died from COVID-19 that day. That was January 9, 2020. Just two months later we would be out of school and I wouldn’t go back until the second quarter of seventh grade. 

In seventh grade, we were separated. We wore masks, our desks were placed apart, we couldn’t sit shoulder-to-shoulder at lunch, we followed one-way hallways; stepping on stickers telling us to stay six-feet apart. I thrived in this type of environment. I’ve always done better working on my own, which makes me sound like a bit of a loser, but my grades were high, even in Algebra. I didn’t have to depend on other people to get work done, I could just do it all myself.

On January 31, 2021, my grandpa died. He had been in the hospital after coming down with COVID-19 the month before. We thought he had recovered, until we found blood clots. I hadn’t seen him since 2019 and we wouldn’t have his funeral until that summer. I found myself angry at the people around me. The people who wouldn’t wear the masks and wouldn’t think about the people around them. My family was doing the right things, we were taking the necessary precautions during a time we didn’t know anything about. So why was this still happening to us?

During the summer of 2021, the Delta variant popped up, and conveniently, it was right before school would start. This was the first variant I heard of and it made me scared, yet again. Unfortunately, I had a bad case of ‘being afraid the world would end.’ But of course, the world did not end, the spikes were bad, but inevitably things calmed down.

In December 2021, Omicron popped up. Omicron was on a whole new level. This spike was worse than the initial first spike when COVID-19 surfaced in the country, and yet again, things finally calmed down. For three whole months the country went under, we didn’t lock down of course, but it was bad. There was no amount of immunizations or antibodies that could fight this variant.

It was February of 2022 when I finally felt the effects of COVID myself. After almost two years, I tested positive for COVID-19. My runny nose, congestion, scratchy throat, headache, and fever was keeping me down. The only thing I had keeping me going was Survivor. Just kidding. It wasn’t that bad. I was over it in a few days and I was back on my feet after the snow days.

It’s been a long two years, but simultaneously it almost feels like it hasn’t been years at all. It can’t have been two years since the world went disarrayed and our lives changed forever. But it has been, and it will be more.