Biohazard Chaos

 

 

 

 

Not even a week into school starting, Devin gets sick.  He wasn’t feeling so hot on Sunday so let him play hooky from church just in case anything other than an achy feeling cropped up.  Monday he was up getting himself ready for school at the usual time; I was being lazy and still in bed when I heard a terrible hacking noise.  “Is that Devin?”  I asked Dave who was also doing his best to delay Monday.  I got up to check on him and good thing I did.  He was sacked out on the couch and I instantly knew he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.  A couple of clicks of the mouse later, Devin and I discovered that he had every single symptom of H1N1, affectionately covered by the media at large as swine flu.  The hard part about each symptom was that it’s exactly like any other run-of-the-mill illness.  “Nah, you don’t have swine flu.”

 

At D.J.’s football practice later that night, we heard from friends that his middle school had a suspected case and sent home fliers that afternoon to warn parents and symptoms to look for in their son or daughter.  “Nah, it’s just the flu… maybe.”

 

By Tuesday morning, he was one sick teen and the Quick-Care Clinic was first on the agenda.  The poor guy “shouted groceries” half a dozen times within the five minute drive to town.  Immediately we noticed warning papers taped to the outer glass doors of the clinic in hunter – or should I say biohazard - orange.  If you have a cough, please ask for a mask at the front desk.  I felt the piercing, disgusted eyes of everyone in the waiting room as Devin snapped the elastic over his head.  Nothing says I have a communicable, deadly disease so watch out like a dual-filtered, foam-lined mask.  So here was are, sitting in the foyer just outside waiting room, Devin, Death and I.

 

 

 

 

 

Finally making it in to the physicians assistant, the compulsory tests were ran without much to do.  It wasn’t until the two foot long swabs came out that Devin got a little nervous.  “I think they poked my brain.”  He said after the assistant left the room.  The influenza swab is taken high up into the nasal cavity almost but not quite his brain.  Insert teaching lesson because I’m that kind of mom,”How did the Egyptians mummify their dead?”  Devin’s reply, “By sticking a wood needle with a hook up their nose and scrabbling their brains to pull it out in little pieces.”  Wow, he did learn something in sixth grade world history!  Two pokes and ten minutes later, he’s positive for influenza A, the first indicator of “swine flu”.  One more swab for the C.D.C. and we were out the door with a prescription for Tamiflu and a mandatory week of no school – worse yet, isolation.  Quarantine….   Official results wouldn’t be in for a week while the state looks its over so in the meantime we were advised to take it seriously.

 

 

Is it or isn’t it?  Are we just being paranoid?  That was the big question on our minds.  What do we do with Miss Is and D.J. (who seemed just as unusual as usual)?  David took the rest of the week off.  He’d be drawn and quartered if he brought “it” into his workgroup even though he tested negative later that morning.  Debating whether or not we should go to football practice that afternoon, D.J. started coughing and within two hours ran a fever of 103.  Now I have both boys sacked out on the couch.  I don’t like to take advantage of people, especially people we know, but it really helps when your Bishop also happens to be a pediatrician.  I had called for advice the day before and he was most helpful, that night I called to see if Devin’s dosage would work for D.J. I guess four years and ten pounds apart didn’t make much difference so I started him on the antiviral as well.  That made the decision easy.  Nobody goes anywhere.

 

Devin had the orange puke bowl, D.J. the white.  By Thursday, I had officially claimed the red.  Yep.  Let me tell you how fun that was.  Not really. Wouldn’t recommend it.  I remembered why I don’t sit around and watch daytime t.v. everyday, why I love MY pillow and why it’s best to braid you hair.  I had held out hope that I would escape infection, but knew that moms almost always suffer the same fate.  During Dave’s ‘Doc-in-the-Box’ clinic visit at work, the P.A. prescribed a full course of Tamiflu with a wink, “you and your wife, just in case”.  I was grateful for the thought and stated taking the white and yellow caplets right away.  I was, however, well enough to watch the BSU – OSU football game!

 

The last four days of exile seemed very, very long.  You can only watch so many movies, play so many games, sleep so many hours before stir crazy takes over.  Friday afternoon we took a family trip to the rural (and empty) gun range to shoot the .22 Cricket.  (My babies can shoot a gun with surprising accuracy.)  BYU vs. Oklahoma  and home-made Twix bars Saturday.  Slacker Sunday at home and Monday was the last day, thank goodness.  (Happy Labor Day)

 

Tuesday life went back to normal.  The farmers were off to school, Dave to work and I had a bunch of errands to make.  That night during D.J.’s football scrimmage, I got the call,  H1N1 positive – your son has been confirmed by the state.

 

In the end, Miss Is and David remained untouched and nothing more than a lingering cough for the boys.  Hopefully that will be the last we have to deal with the flu this year.  I suppose it’s better sooner rather than later when school work is still in post-summer review and nothing pressing on the calendar.  Take care, wash your hands often, have groceries (easy prep food) for a week in the pantry and lots of Lysol and bleach and you’ll survive… we did.