Avian Flu Is Unlikely, Stomach Flu ... Isn't
March 25, 2006
I am awaiting an unwelcome guest to drop in any minute ? a stomach virus.
Or it could be the prevalent respiratory "flu-type illness" that is going around my kids? school.
Forget about bird flu, which is now the subject of speculation and debate. This illness ? though clearly not as deadly ? is here now and destined to ruin a lot of spring-break trips.
The signs of impending mass illness began a week ago when a kid obviously lost their lunch ? or more likely their breakfast ? at my sons? bus stop. Two days later, my son came home with the horrifying tale of one of his cute little classmates who also got sick in class ala Ramona Quimby. More than one of their favorite friends has been home this month with a nasty bug.
Then yesterday, I got one of those official letters from the Central Kitsap School District. Those things are never good news. This one announced "a rise in absenteeism due to a flu-type illness circulating through the district," and was begging students to wash their hands. It also asked them to maintain "personal space" of 3 feet. I found this last point humorous because my kindergartners sit less than 3 feet apart from their classmates most of the time.
Schools around Kitsap County are seeing pockets of illness. About 22 percent of Ridgetop Junior High students stayed home sick this week, among them two of my friend?s children.
When I asked her what they had she said, "Just a bad cold thing."
"Not stomach stuff?"
"No, not that. Thank goodness."
There are few things a mother dreads more than a stomach virus. I also dread child molesters, steep hills mixed with bicycles, bullies, drunk drivers, the coming teen years and a lack of sound emanating from the boys? bedroom. But, among common things that could happen every day, I really dread stomach flu.
Young children are not experienced with stomach flu. It?s rare they recognize the telltale signs in time to reach a toilet. Usually a mother?s first wind of trouble is a plaintive cry in the night, "Mommyyyyy, I?m sick."
After scrubbing that first incident, it?s time to switch to preventive defense. I encircle their beds with buckets and towels. I eliminate food dye and milk from everyone?s diet ? just in case I have to see it again. I bleach everything in sight, from sinks to phones to doorknobs. Then, like a general anticipating the start of battle, I lay in a supply of saltines, ginger ale and chicken noodle soup, and await the approach of the enemy. How will this stomach bug attack? Will it strike all the family members at once? Will it send salvo after salvo, trapping the family in the house for weeks as one person falls ill just as another gets well? Will it attack kids, mommy and daddy alike? Worst of all, will Mommy be stricken just as all the kids recover, leaving me to keep them fed and safe when I am doing well to drool and moan?
In every mother?s life there is a day when she is too sick to mommy, her husband is totally unavailable, and no one in their right mind will babysit because they risk contamination.
Mine arrived just after we moved to Colorado and were living in temporary lodging ? read a glorified hotel room. During a blizzard, my husband came down with a violent bug in the middle of the night. We called an ambulance to transport him to the distant military hospital while I stayed behind with our sick baby twins. An hour later, my own digestive tract revolted, or more accurately staged a violent coup. With the sun rising and the twins reviving, there was nothing to do but play "Baby Mozart" in a continual loop, throw Cheerios in two bowls on the floor and collapse.
And, of course, call my own mother who blessedly now lived just two hours away.
Despite my delirious and inaccurate directions, Mom found us. She arrived to discover the twins crawling on my body like "The Lion King" character Simba trying to revive his dead father, and Cheerios tossed across the room like rice after a wedding. For this exquisite act of kindness, she was also felled with the stomach flu two days later.
And so I wait, entrenched with Lysol wipes and Purell hand sanitizer. I beg my toddler to stop licking his brothers ? a habit he acquired from the dog. I throw toothbrushes in the dishwasher to be sanitized. I lecture hourly on hand washing.
And occasionally, I am thankful. For the illness set to attack isn?t deadly like measles, polio or malaria. I don?t have to walk 20 miles through the desert to find medical care. I can get antibiotics and IVs if needed. And this illness will pass. I am lucky.
http://kitsapsun.com/bsun/op_columnists/article/0,2403,BSUN_19095_4568730,00.html
March 25, 2006
I am awaiting an unwelcome guest to drop in any minute ? a stomach virus.
Or it could be the prevalent respiratory "flu-type illness" that is going around my kids? school.
Forget about bird flu, which is now the subject of speculation and debate. This illness ? though clearly not as deadly ? is here now and destined to ruin a lot of spring-break trips.
The signs of impending mass illness began a week ago when a kid obviously lost their lunch ? or more likely their breakfast ? at my sons? bus stop. Two days later, my son came home with the horrifying tale of one of his cute little classmates who also got sick in class ala Ramona Quimby. More than one of their favorite friends has been home this month with a nasty bug.
Then yesterday, I got one of those official letters from the Central Kitsap School District. Those things are never good news. This one announced "a rise in absenteeism due to a flu-type illness circulating through the district," and was begging students to wash their hands. It also asked them to maintain "personal space" of 3 feet. I found this last point humorous because my kindergartners sit less than 3 feet apart from their classmates most of the time.
Schools around Kitsap County are seeing pockets of illness. About 22 percent of Ridgetop Junior High students stayed home sick this week, among them two of my friend?s children.
When I asked her what they had she said, "Just a bad cold thing."
"Not stomach stuff?"
"No, not that. Thank goodness."
There are few things a mother dreads more than a stomach virus. I also dread child molesters, steep hills mixed with bicycles, bullies, drunk drivers, the coming teen years and a lack of sound emanating from the boys? bedroom. But, among common things that could happen every day, I really dread stomach flu.
Young children are not experienced with stomach flu. It?s rare they recognize the telltale signs in time to reach a toilet. Usually a mother?s first wind of trouble is a plaintive cry in the night, "Mommyyyyy, I?m sick."
After scrubbing that first incident, it?s time to switch to preventive defense. I encircle their beds with buckets and towels. I eliminate food dye and milk from everyone?s diet ? just in case I have to see it again. I bleach everything in sight, from sinks to phones to doorknobs. Then, like a general anticipating the start of battle, I lay in a supply of saltines, ginger ale and chicken noodle soup, and await the approach of the enemy. How will this stomach bug attack? Will it strike all the family members at once? Will it send salvo after salvo, trapping the family in the house for weeks as one person falls ill just as another gets well? Will it attack kids, mommy and daddy alike? Worst of all, will Mommy be stricken just as all the kids recover, leaving me to keep them fed and safe when I am doing well to drool and moan?
In every mother?s life there is a day when she is too sick to mommy, her husband is totally unavailable, and no one in their right mind will babysit because they risk contamination.
Mine arrived just after we moved to Colorado and were living in temporary lodging ? read a glorified hotel room. During a blizzard, my husband came down with a violent bug in the middle of the night. We called an ambulance to transport him to the distant military hospital while I stayed behind with our sick baby twins. An hour later, my own digestive tract revolted, or more accurately staged a violent coup. With the sun rising and the twins reviving, there was nothing to do but play "Baby Mozart" in a continual loop, throw Cheerios in two bowls on the floor and collapse.
And, of course, call my own mother who blessedly now lived just two hours away.
Despite my delirious and inaccurate directions, Mom found us. She arrived to discover the twins crawling on my body like "The Lion King" character Simba trying to revive his dead father, and Cheerios tossed across the room like rice after a wedding. For this exquisite act of kindness, she was also felled with the stomach flu two days later.
And so I wait, entrenched with Lysol wipes and Purell hand sanitizer. I beg my toddler to stop licking his brothers ? a habit he acquired from the dog. I throw toothbrushes in the dishwasher to be sanitized. I lecture hourly on hand washing.
And occasionally, I am thankful. For the illness set to attack isn?t deadly like measles, polio or malaria. I don?t have to walk 20 miles through the desert to find medical care. I can get antibiotics and IVs if needed. And this illness will pass. I am lucky.
http://kitsapsun.com/bsun/op_columnists/article/0,2403,BSUN_19095_4568730,00.html