51 The Great Toilet Paper Shortage of 2020

When Covid first started, I was fifteen years old and living in Markham with my grandparents and my dad. At the time, I was in the tenth grade. My grandparents had just made a trip to India to visit family (unbeknownst to them, this would be their last visit) and considered extending their stay. My dad, after reading about current events and the emergence of a new virus, urged them to come home as scheduled. I continued attending school till the last day:  Friday, March 13th, 2020.

The year before, my cousin had moved to Canada from Germany to do her undergrad degree (at McMaster)! She was told to move out of residence that same day. I remember driving to Hamilton with my dad to pick her up, and afterwards we went out to eat (our last visit to a restaurant for the next year and a half). For the next three months she and I shared a room in my family’s small, two-bedroom apartment.  

Living in Ontario I was under a full lockdown – schooling moved online, grocery stores had occupancy limits, malls were abandoned. The province shut down for a little over two years before vaccinations began. Non-essential businesses were shut down, meaning many stayed permanently closed or moved online. Everywhere that remained open had lines out the door and around the corner, with everyone standing 2 meters apart and masked. Signs outside gave QR codes that led to pre-screening forms that were mandatory for entry: Do you have a new or worsening cough? Fever? Runny nose? Have you tested positive or come in contact with anyone testing positive for Covid in the last 14 days? They asked about symptoms that weren’t even associated with Covid.

Going grocery shopping was one task I enjoyed immensely, until health regulations were implemented. Masking (and later proof of vaccination) was mandatory to enter, and social distancing was required when inside. If an aisle had more than one person in it, it was avoided till they left. Cleaning products, toilet paper, non-perishables, and bottled water were chronically out of stock. Later, stores placed limits on how many of the same product one family could purchase. Thanks to my grandmother’s ever-so-slight hoarding tendencies, we had a strong supply of toilet paper long before the pandemic started. Among the many lessons she has taught me, the most important is that you really can’t be too prepared when it comes to your bowel movements!  

While a big change for me was being home all day, a bigger change was that my grandparents were home all day. Pre-Covid, it was rare to see them at home before the evening. As the pandemic began, the days they usually spent at seniors’ clubs, friends’ houses or malls they spent at home instead. They started having Zoom calls with their friends in the living room, meanwhile, I was holed up in my room at my computer, staring at the small icons that substituted for students I once shared desks, lunches, and notes with. 

My Covid experience related strongly to blame. I mostly blamed the government for announcing continual school closures, for failing to implement travel bans and rules against large gatherings. I blamed them for taking away the only fun part of school – sitting with friends, eating lunch together, chatting in class. All gone. I remember many evenings spent watching CP24 with my grandparents on the couch, anxiously waiting for the announcement about whether schools would re-open. I knew what to expect, but a small part of me still had hope and waited for the final word. Almost every time, I would return to my bedroom, head hanging as I prepared for another month of online schooling.

If I could return to school, universities and malls would re-open, my cousin would return to Canada and my grandparents could resume socializing. I was furious at the teenagers and celebrities for hosting gatherings against public measures, spreading Covid and prolonging the lockdown. Why was it so hard to just follow the rules? Was that vacation really that important? Why were people incessantly prioritizing their own temporary enjoyment over other people’s lives?

My greatest challenge during Covid was ensuring that my grandparents did not get sick. I heard stories of elderly people being admitted to the ICU after testing positive for Covid. I avoided many gatherings and considered switching to online school to minimize the possibility of bringing home the virus. It pained me to say no to gatherings with friends and family even if it meant keeping my grandparents healthy. Thankfully, they were one of the first groups to get vaccinated, and I rushed to get my doses as soon as I could. 

As much as I hated lockdown, I got much closer with my family. We sat together every evening playing games, trying new food, and watching movies. To keep busy, we fell victim to the classic quarantine activities: we tried making our own bread, had (chaotic) family zoom calls, considered adopting a dog, and made our own masks. As expected, none of these lasted (otherwise we would have a dog) once restrictions slowly, slowly lifted. I realized the never-ending list of things we took for granted before Covid came into view: having company, toilet paper, the internet, healthcare, and, shockingly, school. Now it feels like a lifetime ago, and frankly I hope it stays that way…