Virus infects daily life

There are some phrases I never want to hear come through my cell phone. “You’ve got to take her to the emergency room” is high on the list. But that’s what I heard one recent night as I stood in our living room. Nearby were my husband and very hot daughter. My toddler’s body had heated to 105.7.

She was wearing only a shirt and diaper. The nurse on the phone instructed my husband to take off her T-shirt to help her cool down. I grabbed the diaper bag, a banana, and books before we got into the car for a tense drive to the emergency room.

On the way, dramatically heavy rain and lightning seemed as though directed by Shakespeare. I was too consumed by fear to say more than “I’m scared.” Our daughter’s backseat banter reflected a normal mood, which was some reassurance.

We checked in behind a boy who bumped his head and I showed our insurance card and provided a credit card for the $100 payment. Then we got the scary instruction: “Let us know right away if she starts convulsing.”

The waiting room was surprisingly full and included some adults in medical masks. The masks added to the eeriness, as did public address announcements about the severe weather.

The triage nurse summoned us and we talked through our daughter’s symptoms. Then we settled in for more waiting and fretting.

My mind wandered back over the past few days, looking for a culprit who passed their illness to our daughter. (Was it that sip of shared apple juice at Elegant Farmer?) I also thought about whom our daughter might have contaminated. These were new ways to evaluate our friends and family.

Despite being feverish, our daughter was playful and interested in the hospital’s toys. Germ concerns made us reluctant to let her touch them. After an hour, fatigue caused us to give in and I made a mental note to “sanitize” her afterward.

She remained happy and her fever ebbed toward a more reasonable temperature. Eventually it was our turn to see another nurse, then a doctor.

The doctor explained that she was suffering from a virus, possibly H1N1. We had already concluded the same thing. Our instructions were to offer plenty of fluids and administer over-the-counter fever reducers. That made sense but it felt unsettling to head home without a more tangible diagnosis.

The following days brought ups and downs but our daughter returned to normal health while my husband and I both got fevers and fatigue. It took over a month, but we all eventually emerged with our usual energy levels. The most lasting effect was my attitude toward germs.

I’m more cautious now about transmitting germs in both directions: to me and from me. I don’t use my own teaspoon to stir our daughter’s food because I might be carrying something contagious. The virus has annoyingly pervaded the most heartwarming traditions. Kisses between family members and blowing out birthday candles are tinged with unease. Even if I don’t feel sick, I know I could be harboring an illness and passing it along.

At checkout lanes, the credit card stylus gives me the creeps. I envision a previous customer covering their cough with a hand, then transferring the germs via the stylus.

I recognize that some of my germ avoidance tactics aren’t totally logical, and that recognition makes me sympathetic to other people’s illogical reactions. My grandparents must have dealt with similar-probably more intense-wariness during the worst U.S. polio outbreak. Decades later, my mom remembers avoiding the public pool as a precaution.

As 2009 ebbs away, my friends and I will keep buzzing about whether we’ve gotten our kids vaccinated and who is ill. We’ll compare notes on whether we are still going to playgroups or sticking closer to home. I imagine the virus will keep infecting our thoughts in the new year.

The author is a freelance writer and mother of one. Reach her with comments or suggestions at jill@bayviewcompass.com.

Attention readers: We are seeking Bay View’s Baby New Year. I’d like to recognize the first baby born or adopted in Bay View in 2010. If a new little life enters your home in early 2010, please send the announcement to me at the email above or via postal mail to the Compass.