Our COVID-19 Chronicles — The Long Adventures

I’ve read several articles of how museums and historians are moving to document this pandemic. This notion has been chewing on my brain for some time but with everything going on, I’ve been pushing it aside. I read a fellow residency wife friend’s blog post today detailing how they’re handling residency and COVID-19. It gave me the nudge to sit down and just write things down, if just for my own benefit to read and reminisce in the future. Perhaps in sharing our story, naysayers may also realize all the kerfuffle surrounding COVID-19 isn’t some notorious plot to rob them of their supposed freedom.

The county we live in on Long Island officially shut down schools on March 16, 2020 but COVID-19 crept into our lives a few weeks before that. February 29 to March 8 saw us in SoCal. We were there for my cousin’s wedding in San Diego. As with all vacations during residency, we try to schedule our time to get the most out of the precious seven, consecutive days we get together as a family. Mitchell gets four weeks of vacation a year, one per quarter. For this particular trip, we carved out time to see family on both sides as well as numerous friends. We also visited several museums and Disneyland.

The same night of my cousin’s wedding, March 6, I began having severe GI issues, body aches, and chills. We chalked it up to some weird stomach bug. I powered through the remainder of our trip the best I could with some elecrolyte tabs and loperamide. Mitchell had to carry Theo most of the time during our flight from SAN to JFK on March 8 because I was in so much pain. Thankfully, I had made the decision to do long term parking near the airport instead of our usual hauling our luggage through the LIRR and JFK AirTrain. We had parked our car at TWA Hotel’s valet service and I highly recommend it for anyone flying out of JetBlue. Not to mention, TWA Hotel’s a beaut!

I came down with a high fever that night we got back from the airport. Ava, my forever extrovert, was adamant about going to school the following day since it was her birthday and she wanted to be at school with her friends and teachers. She finally conceded to skipping school due in part to jet lag and the fact that I was still in so much physical pain that even Mitchell questioned how I could possibly drive a car safely in my condition. I did manage to muster all my energy into baking the birthday girl a cake.

We were still jet lagged on Tuesday. I decided it would be best to skip another day of school but I was beginning to feel better physically at least. On Wednesday, March 11, Ava came down with a dry cough, wheezing, and a fever. Her temperature climbed to 103.4 degrees Fahrenheit in the early afternoon and she started showing signs of lethargy. At our pediatrician’s prompting, we sought to have her tested that day.

Mitchell had us meet him at his hospital and we were ushered into the pediatric wing of the ED. I still remember noting the relaxed body language of the staff we’ve come to know through all of Ava’s ED trips as they chatted with us and examined her. It seemed to be a sharp juxtaposition to the ominous tone that news outlets held. Ava’s had medical emergencies where I’ve seen the professionals terse and alert so I took comfort in the staff’s nonchalant vibe that day she was swabbed. The NP only donned PPE when she swabbed Ava, a sole duckbill n95 mask. We had complimented her on her mask and she remarked how she had to keep them locked up at the nurses’ station now because people were beginning to steal them.

They explained that they had tried to see if they could simply send Ava’s swabs to the CDC to test for COVID-19 as a sort of courtesy to us since Mitchell worked at the hospital; however, protocol was extremely strict and their request was denied. Ava’s tests had to be run for all other respiratory infections first. If those came back negative, it would only be then that her swabs would be sent to Albany.

In the meantime, we were to quarantine at home. We were one of the first two hundred people that were placed under mandatory quarantine at home on Long Island.

You know those cut scenes in films that note time passing by? Sometimes it’s a screen that simply has a time or date stamp punctuated by a dramatic, orchestral flourish. That’s how the first few days felt like as we moved through them. Friday, my GI symptoms began. Sunday, fever for me. Wednesday, fever for Ava. Thursday morning brought the news that Ava’s swabs had tested negative for all common respiratory infections.

Cue the orchestra.

I remembered overhearing the ED NP’s muffled voice when she called Mitchell to update him on her test results. This woman, a good-natured, comforting matronly figure during Ava’s past ED visits, had a sharp, somber tone in her voice. I caught pieces of what she said.. “I’d be very surprised if Ava was negative for COVID-19..” “I’m not worried about you getting sick. But you have two kids that you need to take care of. You take care of your family, you hear me?!”

By Thursday afternoon, the headmaster at Ava’s school had issue an e-mail roughly outlining what Ava was going through while trying to keep her anonymous. School was to be closed that following Friday and Monday until we got word of her COVID-19 test results. He cautioned that some parents may be very anxious about the current state of affairs and that they may be hostile towards us if they found out that the student being tested was Ava.

It’s worth noting that a few weeks prior to our trip to SoCal, Ava had asked after school one day if she was bad because she was half-Chinese. When I asked her to elaborate, she had explained that her classmates had said something bad was coming from China and making everyone sick. That it was called the coronavirus and if you get it, you die.

On Friday, Mitchell saw Ava gasping for breaths and when he realized she wasn’t truly short of breathe, he became upset. I saw her confusion and realized we hadn’t sat down and fully explained what was going on so I did. I remember tears suddenly welling up in her eyes and her small voice asking, “Am I going to die?” when I told her why it’s so important that she not joke around with breathing. We reassured her as best as we could. We tried to explain how some people will get sick and how it’s all random, not a reflection of a person’s character. Lastly, we stressed how important it was that she tell us if someone was being mean to her for her ethnicity.

It grieves me deeply that any child should have to deal with racial prejudice. I take umbrage with those who refuse to understand the very real ramifications from referring to COVID-19 as the Chinese virus. Embracing such sloppy diction illustrates a lack of empathy and a real disconnect to the humanity that connects us all. A hate crime that occurred in late March that included two victims aged two years old and six year old stabbed especially sickened me.

Groceries delivered on our front step by friends

That weekend while we waited for Ava’s COVID-19 test results was a lot to process emotionally. Either Mitchell or I slept in the same bed as Ava to monitor her breathing. We talked about what our plans would be in the case one of us or the kids get sick. We discussed what we’d do in case our home was targeted by an angry, bigoted person. Mitchell even brought up his life insurance.

Within this emotional trough, amazing people came in (metaphorically) and lifted us up. Family rallied for us. Friends got us groceries when we started running low. Ava’s teachers overnighted books and school materials, much to her delight. Instead of experiencing people lashing out at us, we discovered that many families within Ava’s school community were praying for us.

Sunday came. Another orchestra flourish. Good but somewhat confusing news.. Ava’s test results were actually negative for COVID-19. The ED cautioned that they suspected false negatives and urged us to exercise caution, common sense, and keep quarantining practices if possible. This day also marked when officials closed all Long Island schools for the next two weeks.

It felt odd basically watching society undergo and process what we’d just gone through a few days ago those next two weeks. Schools closed, businesses shuttered, people trying to embrace the battle cry to stay safe, stay home. Social distancing! Stay six feet away. The last time I’d visited a grocery store, everything was still “normal”. By the time, I was able to go out again, the panic buying had already been in full force for several days. It was eerie walking store aisles completely empty. My anxiety cranked up a few notches more when I noticed people had even bought out Ava’s usual allergy friendly foods. Over time, places implemented more methods of social distancing like this CVS’ plastic tarp and tables.

Through the midst of all this chaos, I figured now was the best time to finally get Ava the bike she’d been asking for since last summer. Mitchell’s residency program switched to a skeleton crew and nearly all elective surgery cases were halted so this is the most he’s ever been at home. Silver linings. Nearly daily evening walks have been something I’ll look back on fondly.

So where are we at nearly a month later?

Ava’s five weeks deep into remote learning at school. I’m so thankful for such an amazing group of educators who have risen up in these odd times and have basically ensured that Ava’s learning continue as best as they possibly can. The familiar routine of school is comforting for all of us even if it’s done electronically.

We got wind that Mitchell’s hospital had ordered bandannas as a last ditch effort to protect the staff while on one of our family walks. This was on the heels of the CDC changing PPE protocol to include bandannas and scarves as an acceptable means of PPE if all other options were exhausted. I eventually got my sewing machine out, cut up flat bedsheets we had, and began trying to learn how to sew masks for Mitchell all the while letting an angry tear slip here and there. No way in hell would I be sending my husband to work with a fucking bandanna.

Ava, Mitchell, and I all came down with identical symptoms during that pivotal week in March. We all recuperated after a few days without any additional medical treatment. Theodore stayed healthy thankfully.

For a good portion of April, Ava’s been experiencing wheezing, which is very unlike her. After being in contact with her pediatrician for a week, I finally brought her in to be examined in person by the doctor. I snapped the above shot while we waited in the parking lot of the pediatrician’s office. Protocol was to wait in your car until you were called up to be seen. There was something so foreign and poignant about fumbling to fit an n95 mask and a homemade mask over it on Ava’s face while the wet, chilly wind blew around us. I almost don’t want to imagine how many other parents have clumsily fumbled with something in the dire attempt to protect their child from something.

And as for Mitchell?

He began rotating in COVID-19 units at his hospital last week on April 15. And thank the heavens above, his hospital finally got more proper PPE. He still has to reuse things as well as his scrub cap I got for him because disposable hair bouffants are scarce but at least he gets an n95 mask while he’s seeing COVID-19 patients.

So this is it. This is our truth.

Friends have gotten sick, tested positive for COVID-19, and have recovered. Friends have lost family members. I’m selfishly thankful that loss hasn’t touched our families yet and hope it stays that way.

A loved one shared this quote with me today and it resonated deeply with me. I thought it’d be apropos to end this blog entry with it. May you find health and safety in this pandemic. Cue orchestra.

The farther you are from believing something that is objectively true, the worse position you’re in to advocate your point and protect yourself and your family.