Beep, beep—alarms blared, lights flashed red and blue. I sprang from the makeshift bed I had fashioned in the corner of a chair to check on my son. As I rushed toward his bed, I quickly scanned the monitors displaying his vitals. Finally, I reached him and could feel the shallow rise and fall of his chest. I knew it wouldn’t be long before a flurry of nurses entered the room. Cameras were installed to monitor him around the clock, but it would still take a few minutes for the staff to don their personal protective equipment (PPE).
This is COVID-19.
My son, a typically healthy and active 16-year-old, had no underlying health issues. The only time he had ever needed hospital care was for a broken arm after a snowboarding accident. Statistically, he shouldn’t have been in this predicament. There had been months of reports claiming that healthy children were safe, while many parents argued against virtual schooling, insisting their kids were not at risk for severe COVID-19 consequences.
Let me rewind and explain how he ended up in the ICU of one of the country’s leading children’s hospitals. Our family took the news of COVID-19 seriously from the start, determined to avoid it at all costs. We stopped shopping in person and ordered groceries for delivery, quarantining them in a separate fridge for three days. Everyone in the family transitioned to working from home, and we even kept our mail isolated for three days.
Once masks became mandatory, we cautiously began visiting local grocery stores, fully equipped with multilayer masks, gloves, and hand sanitizer. Social interactions with friends and family were relegated to Zoom and FaceTime. As life gradually returned to some semblance of normalcy, my husband and I had to return to work in person, and schools reopened. This new exposure also meant potential contact with someone infected with COVID-19.
We can only speculate how the virus entered our home, perhaps from an anti-masker coughing in a store or my husband’s coworker who was asymptomatic but had a family member diagnosed. It began when my daughter came home one day feeling unwell. Her condition quickly deteriorated; she experienced sore muscles, a burning sensation in her nose, headaches, upset stomach, cough, fever, loss of taste and smell, and difficulty breathing. Recognizing these symptoms, we swiftly arranged for her to get tested, and she soon learned she was positive.
While awaiting results, she quarantined in her room, using her bathroom. The following day, I began experiencing similar symptoms. The body aches were unlike anything I had ever encountered, followed by fever and difficulty breathing. Using our pulse oximeter, I monitored our oxygen levels, which thankfully remained around 90 for both my daughter and me.
My husband moved out of our bedroom into the basement family room. Our youngest daughter woke up with a burning nose and slight headache but felt better the next day. We believed we had managed to contain the virus, isolating ourselves in separate rooms while maintaining contact through text and the House Party app.
That weekend, I watched my husband and son rake leaves from our yard, longing to join them. I couldn’t wait for my isolation to end so I could hug my family again. Little did we know, this was just the beginning of our fight against COVID-19.
The next day, my husband and son reported feeling sore. Initially, I attributed it to their raking activity. However, over the next few days, they developed coughs and symptoms mirroring ours. After completing my quarantine, I was finally able to see my family again, but my son was still confined to his room. My middle daughter and I could keep them company since we had already contracted the virus.
At first, their cases seemed mild, similar to ours, but things escalated quickly. My son’s fever skyrocketed to 105.7, prompting me to call the doctor and then rush him to the Emergency Room. Tests revealed he had bilateral pneumonia. They administered an IV and medications to lower his fever. After a day in the ER, we were sent home with steroids and an inhaler, with instructions to return if his oxygen levels dropped.
That evening, however, his temperature began to climb again, and his breathing became increasingly labored. My husband also showed signs of a high fever and worsening respiratory issues. Following the doctor’s advice, we managed their symptoms with Tylenol and monitored their oxygen levels, which hovered around 89.
It was unsettling to see my husband, a man with no underlying health issues who runs half marathons and hikes challenging trails, feeling so unwell. As the day wore on, my son’s condition worsened; his fever spiked once more, and his breathing grew more difficult. When his pulse ox dropped to the low 80s, I knew we had to return to the hospital. He was so weak that getting him down the stairs and into the car was a struggle. I instructed my middle daughter to keep an eye on her father and monitor his temperature and oxygen levels every 15 minutes.
Upon arrival, my son had soaked through his clothes with sweat and was gasping for breath. His pulse oximeter reading was alarmingly low at 74. They quickly connected him to an oxygen mask, increasing the flow as needed. More X-rays and medications were administered to combat his dangerously high temperature of 106.
While we awaited lab results, my phone rang—my daughter called to inform me that my husband’s condition was deteriorating and that he was being brought to the hospital as well. I sat beside my son’s bed, anxiously watching him struggle for air, as fear coursed through me.
Though it felt like an eternity, it was only a short while later that they wheeled my husband into the room across from my son’s. He was connected to oxygen and received X-rays, blood draws, and medication. I was allowed in the ER due to my son’s age and my previous COVID-19 diagnosis; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been permitted. The hospital staff was remarkable, keeping me updated on my husband’s condition, recognizing the emotional toll this was taking on our family.
The doctor informed me that my son’s situation was very serious. He needed to be transferred to one of the top children’s hospitals in the country, as the local facility could not provide the required level of care. While waiting for the transport ambulance, I learned that my husband was being admitted to the hospital. We were allowed to say goodbye to him as he was wheeled away to the COVID unit. Shortly after, the ambulance arrived to take my son to the children’s hospital. Because he was underage and in critical condition, I was able to accompany him.
The ambulance ride was a blur, holding my son’s hand while the EMT switched out the oxygen tank, as he had already used the first one. When we finally arrived, I was back at the start of this story. With the care of numerous medical professionals, infectious disease experts, tests, powerful medications, and ample oxygen, my son began to recover. He was eventually moved from ICU to acute care and graduated from an oxygen mask to a nasal tube, before finally requiring no supplemental oxygen. He endured painful rashes from medications and multiple daily injections but remained remarkably strong throughout the ordeal.
While my son was at the children’s hospital, my husband was isolated in a COVID unit at a different hospital 100 miles away. Thankfully, we stayed connected through texts and FaceTime, though some days he lacked the energy to speak for more than a few minutes. My son was released from the hospital, and two days later, my husband joined us at home.
The journey of battling COVID-19 was long and difficult, but it ultimately strengthened our already resilient family. Time has passed, but the lingering effects of the virus are still felt. My husband and son continue to experience reduced lung capacity, and both tire easily with physical exertion. My daughter and I also deal with lingering symptoms, including loss of smell, diminished taste, and significant hair loss. Many reports overlook these long-lasting effects, yet they are very real.
COVID-19 can strike even the healthiest individuals, leaving them vulnerable. In our family of six, two were hospitalized, two faced severe cases, one had mild symptoms, and one was completely asymptomatic, illustrating the unpredictable nature of this powerful virus. While mask-wearing has turned into a political debate, it should not be.
I anticipate some may question the effectiveness of masks, given our experience. Studies indicate that for maximum protection, both individuals must wear masks properly. When only one person is masked, the risk of exposure is moderate. If both wear masks, the risk drops significantly, especially when combined with social distancing.
Please protect yourself, your loved ones, and strangers by wearing a mask. It only takes one careless individual to spark an outbreak.
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In summary, the COVID-19 pandemic can affect anyone, regardless of their health status, as demonstrated by my family’s experience. Our story serves as a reminder of the virus’s unpredictability and the importance of taking precautions to protect ourselves and others.
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