23 Jun 2020
In her latest diary entry, Nat Scroggie discusses some of the coronavirus’ lexicon, including the pandemic phrases “coronacoaster” and “furlough shaming”.
Nat Scroggie
Job Title
Image: dglimages / Adobe Stock
A few weeks ago, I started my diary entry describing some of the new language that now dominates our pandemic phrase books (VT50.23).
Among “unprecedented” and “tough times” have been some wonderful additions – my favourite of which is “coronacoaster”.
Coronacoaster was defined by Urban Dictionary in early April (and featured by The Lancet in May) as: “When your emotions are on a rollercoaster due to all of the news each day about the coronavirus.” If I had to choose one word to sum up the past few months, coronacoaster would be it.
Under entirely normal circumstances, I would describe myself as a fairly up and down person, but with the onslaught of Covid‑19, life has felt like a flip book of contrasting emotions that is being thumbed on repeat.
The one emotion that has been a constant feature – interspersed between anxiety, extreme gratitude and loneliness – has been guilt. I have never felt so guilty about so many things at once. Guilty for:
Whatever the emotion, my brain piggybacked a dollop of guilt on every one.
As a locum I felt horribly guilty when my work was cancelled and I was marooned safely at home while colleagues were working so hard, putting themselves at risk. I have recently started a regular long-term locum position – and now I feel guilty for being one of the lucky few to have found regular work when the locum climate is so bleak.
It seems guilt is as infectious as the virus.
One group of people who have experienced more than their fair share of guilt are those who are, or have been, furloughed.
I do not know the statistics for just the veterinary profession, but it is estimated that nearly a quarter of UK workers were furloughed by their employers. We also know many valued members of our profession must still shield, for either their own or a loved one’s safety.
Another new pandemic phrase I have learned is “furlough shaming” – something I have become aware of over the past few weeks. Occasionally this is intentional, but more often it is entirely unintentional.
Sharing a meme on a veterinary forum comparing zombified “workers” to beach-dwelling “furloughed” is simply intended as light comic relief for those exhausted from the strains of lockdown practice.
I also believe little doubt exists that seeing these types of posts on social media will only add to the guilt or isolation felt by those colleagues left at home, furloughed by their employers, or shielding to protect themselves or loved ones.
Over the past weeks, it is often those colleagues I have found myself worrying about more.
When you look into the power of language within any context – from racial or mental health slurs to furlough shaming – you learn quickly that, usually, complete separation exists between the intentions of a speaker (or poster) and the impact of their words.
This means it is entirely possible to call people out on it with kindness and without judgement – even yourself.
It is also a common misconception that we should only be careful about our language to avoid offending people (“PC gone mad”), which, sadly, puts the onus on the person who chooses to be offended.
This is not about causing offence – or simply choosing to not be offended – but contributing to a stigma.
Therefore, I ask all of you to think carefully about the choices you make this week with the language you use and the posts you share on social media. The pandemic has brought with it guilt and isolation in bucketloads, and mental health has suffered hugely – not least among our profession.
We have also seen how powerfully it can connect people and build communities when we choose to let it. It would be a great sadness to see a divide in our profession between those able to work and those who are unable to. To echo the Money Saving Expert, Martin Lewis: “Furlough shaming needs to stop now.”
If you are working, be the person in your practice to offer kindness and empathy to all groups. Be brave enough to guide others in the impact of their language, even if the effect is unintended. Be smart enough to find ways of sharing humour that do not marginalise others or reinforce stigmas.
If you are not working right now, show compassion to yourself as well as others.
Maybe between us we can help shake off a little bit of that guilt we have all been carrying around and build a kinder profession to come back to when we are lucky enough to all be together again.
