What We Hoped Wouldn’t Happen, Happened

I know that the chances were pretty good when we, like most people, started easing out from behind the doors of our quarantined lives to test the waters “out there”. I was aware that one of us may contract this evil virus somehow, some way. Now, please understand that Bruce and I have been those parents … you know, the ones who didn’t allow our live-at-home college kids to work at their part time jobs at a smoothie restaurant past March 20th, even though it was a business that was considered “essential” and never closed. Our first set of twins, our eldest girls, both moved out last year, so our family home contains 6 of us right now, and we have all stayed home … we worked from home (jobs and school) for months, just like most people have. We have had one designated grocery-shopper: my husband Bruce.

Bruce and I decided during the last week of May to finally venture out … to brave and test the outside world beyond our local Publix. After much debate and consideration, we chose to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary by staying overnight in nearby St. Augustine, FL, while eating at two restaurants in the course of those 2 days. Phase 1 was in effect so restaurants were at 50% capacity. Mask-wearing wasn’t mandatory or enforced anywhere, but we made sure to wear them when necessary. It was actually quite comfortable having empty tables between each dining party. Well, the weekend get-away was a success, and in time we knew we had not come in contact with the virus.

Then phase 2 opening measures were put in place here in Floriday approximately three weeks ago (the 1st of June), and we reluctantly agreed to allowed Erin and Brandon to return to their part-time jobs at the same fast-food restaurant. The restaurant requires masks and gloves for all employees. Each of them has a significant other, and we finally allowed them to start spending time with them in person and not just via face-time.

Due to these changes, however, strict guidelines for those returning from the jungle were enforced: no shoes in the house; strip asap; start a hot water load of laundry; and take a hot shower.

I stepped up my already vigilant cleaning/disinfecting so that, in the event, the kids somehow managed to pick up THE GERM, I could kill it before it could sicken anyone.

While living this way, as we all have been, I’ve developed a sad perspective. I look around and see people masked and afraid. Dare I say we have become afraid of each other. The fear of this virus, and all of the gloom and doom we’ve been bombarded with these last few months have given us a subconscious (or conscious) attitude of repulsion toward people. Have you noticed it?

No, I won’t get into my political beliefs on the origin of and the reason for this virus’ world-wide outbreak, but most will agree that if something could cause us to eagerly and protectively comply with social distancing, to distrust and fear our neighbors and friends, this situation has certainly proven effective. Self-protection and self-preservation has been placed above all else.

Recently, Bruce began to return to his office 3 days a week, but needed to have his temperature checked at his office building’s front entrance, and all employees work spaces were sufficiently distanced from each other.

As for me, although I did not return to work as a health coach and manual therapist, I was looking forward to performing with my band. We had put on a virtual, live stream concert at the end of May, but could not wait to perform on stage again in front of a live audience, albeit small and socially-distanced). We have a performance at an outside venue near the beach scheduled for this coming Friday, 6/26. I’ve also recently resumed some music recording for my nearly-finished second music album, and other creative projects . We were slowly, carefully, reintroducing aspects of our lives.

Then came last Tuesday, June 16.

My son Brandon sent me a text message from his upstairs bedroom that I saw when I woke up around 7:30. “Mom, I am not feeling well, and I’m running a fever. I’m so sorry.” He then admitted that he’d kind of felt “off” the day before.

Oh NO. Without my knowledge, Brandon had driven himself downtown at 6am to receive a nasal swab test at the COVID19 testing center that has been set up in our football stadium’s parking lot. Because of the civil unrest that has been experienced downtown and in most other U.S. cities these last two weeks, he was turned away by the police and military groups attempting to maintain order and safety. Testing would resume later that day.

So he came home, and I then called our doctor’s office. We were directed to either return to the stadium later, go to any ER, or call and then go to a laboratory testing center (like LabCorp or Quest). He was turned away at both LabCorp and our closest ER, so he drove himself back downtown, sat for 3 hours in line while harboring a 102 degree temperature, and was finally tested. He would not receive results for 3-4 days.

Obviously not waiting for test results, we placed him in complete isolation, self-quarantined our family, and I cleaned our home like I’d never cleaned it before. I moved our younger twin boys to a room previously occupied by one of our older daughters so they were as far from Brandon as possible. Brandon’s twin, Erin, decided that she may have been exposed at work too, if that is where Brandon was exposed, so she is presently self-isolating in her bedroom, and wearing a mask if she ventures out to any other area of our home. Bruce contacted his boss and other coworkers, notifying them that he wouldn’t be back in the office or be able to attend any meetings for the time-being because of possible virus exposure.

I’ve been through many bouts of flu while parenting six children, and will tell you, that this has been no ordinary flu. It will be one week tomorrow since the onset of Brandon’s symptoms. The following is the how this virus has progressed:

Tuesday: In the middle of the night between Monday and Tuesday, he awoke feeling achy and “off”. By 5am he knew he had a fever. The thermometer registered nearly 101 degrees. As the day went on the body aches, headache and muscle stiffness worsened. By that night, his temp was 102 degrees.

Wednesday: He experienced an up-and-down fever all day. He took acetaminophen when it got too high, but we really wanted to annihilate this virus, and a fever is how to do it. By Wednesday evening, he began to report a scratchy throat and the beginnings of a cough. He had no appetite, but he pushed fluids. This is the day when he began to take increased vitamin C, D and zinc, some probiotics and a strong antioxidant molecular hydrogen dissolving tablet which is part of my health coaching dietary supplements.

Thursday: His fever seemed to be lowering and by that evening, his temperature was normal, but he still had chills, body aches and headache. I encouraged him to take a shower in the bathroom that only he’d been using since Tuesday morning. He had little appetite today, but I still encouraged nibbling. I went to the store, donned a mask and gloves, and bought his favorite snacks of Cheez-Its, honey-roasted peanuts, jello fruit cups and all his favorite fresh fruit.

On Thursday afternoon, I received a text message from Brandon again. This time it read: “Mom, I was just notified of my test results. It is positive. I’m sorry”. Although I fully expected it, I still felt a bowling ball hit me in the stomach.

I felt panicked. I felt terrified and crippled with fear. I can’t let Brandon or the other kids know that I am.

We have it. We have COVID-19 in our home. COVID-19 has made my son very ill. There are 3 other children and my husband living here, now exposed. Oh, and me, too. I spent the next 2 hours personally contacting our family, friends and our close-by neighbors. I contacted my band because I will not be performing next Friday. I won’t be continuing to record my album’s music. The kids and I were about to finalize a song they are recording with me.

At 8pm that evening I received a text message from a number I didn’t recognize. It read: “Hi Fran, I’m sorry to hear that your son is sick. My family and I live in the rental house near the end of this street. I got your number from another neighbor. Have you all been tested? You must get tested. Your two younger boys were outside last weekend and they may have exposed my child. All of us on this street feel the same way. There are many places where you can receive rapid results. You must do this immediately. In the meantime, because of your boys, we must all self-quarantine. Let me know AS SOON AS YOU HAVE TEST RESULTS.”

So, yeah. My first response was anger. But did I understand? Of course I did. I also understood that we were now considered the lepers of our neighborhood. Here we were, viewed with fear and probably disgust. After composing 3 different versions of text messages that I wanted to fire back with, I deleted them all and replied: “Thank you for your concern. Yes, we’re all being tested tomorrow, and I’ll let you know as soon as we have results.”

This is just the way I roll. I try very hard not to respond when I’m angry or feel indignant, or to what I perceive to be an insult. I would feel exactly the same way, but I probably would be a little less demanding. Maybe.

Mother bears show their claws at times like these. I know, because I would like to tear to pieces whomever caused this virus to be unleashed because it is now VERY PERSONAL … more personal than the inconveniences of lock-downs, of wearing masks, of lost income, of missing our friends and extended family. My family has been directly impacted. My child has been sickened. His life has been threatened. Our home has been invaded by a very dangerous enemy.

Everyone wants to know where he could have “picked it up”. We probably will never know. What I do know is that the number in positive cases have spiked considerably since Phase 2 was initiated. I completely supported the initiatives to re-open the economy and, well, life. It was time. I guess, also, that it was a matter of time before it directly impacted our family.

Friday: I spent several hours trying to make appointments for 5 people to receive COVID-19 tests. Unsuccessful in securing appointment before the following Wednesday, we finally we went up to a nearby urgent care facility and waited as walk-ins. Honestly, the wait wasn’t too bad and it was a good experience. While masked, were all evaluated, had our vitals checked, and received nasal swab tests within 2 hours. Our results would be expected in 4 days. Sigh.

Brandon seemed to want to eat a little bit by Friday evening. I made a chicken, spinach, Alfredo sauce with bow tie pasta dish that I know he loves. He thanked me and said how much he wished he could actually taste it. He has lost all sense of taste or smell.

He has been spending his waking hours playing video games, watching movies and chatting with his girlfriend. His girlfriend reported that 3 extended family member that have not been anywhere near her nor her parents have recently tested positive. Tragically, one of these people were her grandmother, who passed away last Tuesday having been in her mid-seventies and suffering with diabetes. Just unbelievable.

Saturday: Brandon started to experience significant respiratory discomfort. He complained of pain in his mid back and the sensation of his airway tightening. He continued to feel cold, and complained of chills despite a normal temperature.

I took a little bit of time after dinner to make Bruce a home made cheese cake for Father’s Day. It would chill in the fridge, and be ready after dinner on Sunday.

Brandon was now beginning to suffer increasing bouts of anxiety. He, naturally, has been reading everything online that he can find on this illness, and he’s scaring himself. I was awake with him throughout all of Saturday night, sitting on the floor in the hall down from his partially-opened bedroom door. He had panic attacks and was afraid that he was experiencing decreased circulation. I made him check his fingers and toes with the pinch test, and all looked normal. He complained next of loosing feeling in his hands and lower arms. Having some medical training and holding a healthcare practitioner’s license, I tried my best to assure him that his complexion looked healthy, that his energy level was encouraging, that his fingers and toes presented all signs of healthy circulation. He swore that his lips were turning blue, and I swore that I didn’t see it. However, I also was not experiencing first-hand what he was feeling. From what I’ve been reading and hearing myself, the symptoms he’s been experiencing seem to be par-for-the-course as far as this thing is concerned. I knew that if he didn’t spike a new fever (secondary infection, possibly pneumonia), or if he wasn’t having any difficulty breathing (shortness of breath), then his symptoms were not life-threatening and should be managed at home.

Sunday: However, by 6am, he convinced himself that he must go to the ER. Bruce and I tried to convince him that if he were lethargic, and had any inability to take deep, full breaths, we would share his concern. But his stress and his anxiety were now running the show. So he walked down the stairs, out our front door, and got into his car. I didn’t want Bruce riding in a car with him, and Bruce didn’t want me doing the same. So Brandon, full of anxious energy and focus, drove himself to the hospital. We insisted that he keep us posted constantly. Exhausted, I went to bed, but received each of his text messages each 15 minutes or so.

The triage nurse assessed him, and took his vitals. Aside from a slightly elevated heart rate and blood pressure, all checked out fine. His chest x-ray was clear and his pulse-oxygen reading was 100%. He drove home and went back to bed. He did, however, receive some peace-of-mind that his lungs weren’t full of fluid nor was his blood lacking oxygen.

Happy Father’s Day to Bruce

Although I’d chosen up to this point not to post all of this on Facebook, I have been reading some posts from a fellow musician here in town who I’d actually talked to last year about possibly playing bass for our band. When I realized that he and Brandon were in the same stage of this illness, both having started symptoms this past Tuesday, I reached out to Mark via messenger. Later that evening, he texted Brandon so that the two of them could connect and “compare notes” while commiserating. Mark, being a funny guy, also calmed Brandon down with his positive attitude. With Mark’s wife working as a nurse and having worked with COVID patients, he recommended that we purchase our own pulse-oximeter so Brandon could check his own blood-oxygen level, and to give Brandon 5-10 mg of melatonin each night so he can calm down and sleep better.

Monday (today): I gave Brandon 5mg of melatonin last evening, and although he was still up and anxious at 1am, he finally fell asleep, and didn’t wake until 11am. Today he is still experiencing chills and has a sore throat.

But, he wanted to eat today, saying he was hungry. I haven’t heard him use that word in a week. I’m praying (we all are) that he is beginning to improve.

So, my friends, this is serious. It is very serious. As for how it entered our home, it wasn’t for lack of mindfulness. We didn’t lack care. We took it serious, we took precautions. We may have even been overly-protective.

And yet, here we are.

We pray for our son, that he improves and recovers rapidly and completely. He’s young and healthy, so his prognosis is good. We also pray for everyone else going through this right now, for those struggling with this, and for those who have lost loved ones to this insidious, evil virus. We are also praying that this virus stops with Brandon and doesn’t spread throughout our family.

We have faith and we know that God has this.

Please be careful. I see online that there were so many large family gatherings celebrating Father’s Day. People are celebrating summer, celebrating each other, celebrating LIFE. I get it. I really do! But I don’t want people to get THIS, nor to keep spreading this. It’s not over …. it’s far from over. Please be careful. Don’t act irresponsibly. Don’t act foolishly.

Do I think we should all live our lives in masks? I wish there was another option. People wearing masks for extended amounts of time can cause their blood pressure to increase while their decreased oxygen intake can lead to hypoxia (under-oxygenated blood). We could be slowly suffocating ourselves. Infections due to over exposure of carbon dioxide we’re breathing in such as respiratory acidosis are developing. We’re all buying cute, decorative, washable masks (me, included), but if they’re not properly cleaned and dried after each use, we could be breathing in bacteria and developing serious infections. A young food-service employee recently was diagnosed with life-threatening pleurisy as a result of long-term mask-wearing. For people with asthma, like me, wearing a mask is absolutely brutal and I’ve come to realize that my symptoms increase after I’ve been wearing a mask for any amount of time.

For so many professions, however, it’s vital to stay as protected and protective as possible, especially when working in close proximity with others can’t be avoided. People must wear them for entire 8-12 hour shifts, or they lose their jobs. Some companies and business demand that patrons wear them or they cannot enter. Do we either get sick or we get sick? Is wearing a mask the lesser of two evils? It is, however, very important to protect others from exposure, if we have knowingly or unknowingly exposed or contagious.

As for healthcare professionals, masks are obviously mandatory and unavoidable. I can’t express how deeply thankful I am to those every one of these heros working on this war’s front lines. I pray for their safety every day.

There’s just no way around this, and I don’t have the perfect solution, but with common sense, time and faith, we’ll get through this.

We just all have to be patient, to be smart and to take care of ourselves, and those who we love.

Please check back! I’ll continue to update our story-in-the-making …

Photo credits: 1– Praying hands (beliefnet.com), 2– Image in woods (Fran Pitre, Pitre backyard)