CDC – Weekly Report: Influenza (Flu) Summary Update
Day 7 of the flu
This is the first day I have been able to sit up and write. The raging fever that knocked me down has passed, leaving a wretching cough. My lungs have things in them that they won’t release. I think I’ve opened up internal surgical scars in my abdomen, and surely there are a few organs that are currently not where they are supposed to be. I have never coughed with such violence, and with so little result. All my muscles up and down my torso are pulled. To cough now I have to pull my legs up to my chin. Last night, it felt like a heart attack. I don’t know if it’s my heart or my left lung that feels as though it has compacted into a superheavy black ball.
This influenza is no joke. I’m feeling badly enough still that I know I’m going to be pretty sick still for a while, but feeling conscious enough to know that neither my son nor I are going to die from it. No thanks to my "primary healthcare provider" who has done absolutely nothing for me as usual. Her modus operandi is either to say there’s nothing that can be done, or else she palms us off on the hospital. She must have some serious referral limits. She’s a very nice woman, but I’m really starting to want a doctor who is fighting for my health.
My son got the flu first – either from his little friend at his sleepover, or else from someone at school. His doctor saw us on a Sunday (!), diagnosed it, and had him on the first run of decongestant/cough supressant and ibuprofen within 24 hours.
When I was finally able to talk to my doctor, it was only because she was concerned about my husband’s being in the house with us. Understandable, since he has a condition which suppresses some of his immune system functioning, but where was she when I wanted to get us the flu vaccine? Hubby got, we did not – but anyone knows that the 3 yr old would be the vector! So I got her on the phone, said, "Ben and I have the flu" – her response? To argue with me about it – how was I so sure it was the flu? (How about because my son actually has a responsive doctor?). I should have known. While Ben’s pediatrician is saying, bring him in again if he doesn’t lose the fever in five days, she is saying – well, it’s a virus, you’ll just have to ride it out. So now, Ben gets an antibiotic to treat the secondary ear infection (and probably prevent any other secondary infection), and I get nada. Right now, I think I need a lung vaccum cleaner of some sort – or else a muscle relaxant. If I keep coughing this way, I’m going to blow a gasket.
Ben started talking again last night. I have been so scared about him. Now he’s in a normal mode of sickness, watching Scooby Doo, and eating things, and talking. A week with your child in bed, not talking, not eating – nothing – is frightening. I kept being afraid to go to sleep for fear I would wake up and he’d be dead.
Awake, I was haunted by a particular song. I don’t know why this happens, and I wish I had more conscious control over the song selected. This time, it was Lady D’Arbanville by Cat Stevens (from before he changed his name).
So while I’m watching my three-year-old sleep around the clock, I am hearing
you look so cold tonight
your legs feel like winter
you skin has turned to white
While the room is spinning and I’m trying not to fall down as I stumble to the bathroom, I hear
my Lady D’Arbanville
why do you sleep so still?
Waking from a bad dream involving several moments of personal shame, I hear again
I’ll be with you always
this rose will never die
On and on, over and over,
why do you grieve me so…
why do you breathe so low…
So now, I am pulling out the album, yes album, Mona Bone Jakon, and playing it. I like most of the rest of the album. It reminds me of summer and sweetness and freedom and love.
Except when I am haunted by that one song in the scariest moments of the flu.
This isn’t nearly as bad as the influenza of 1918 that killed more people than the war. Those who got the vaccine, like my husband, do seem to be getting some amount of protection from it. This is a severe flu, the worst I’ve ever suffered, but I think we’re going to live.
