Coronavirus and Comfort

When your child has a fever, you look after them with blankets, drinks and a cuddle. Even when they’re not a young age, but in their teens, they may not ask for it but they still need you.

These days, in this year of Coronavirus, your child getting a fever has changed. First you may wait because 37.7° is still a low fever; until the next reading a few hours later shows 38.4°. That automatic first hug of comfort is replaced with doubt. What if it’s Covid-19? It might not be, it’s winter and there are still coughs and colds around, bugs and infections of all sorts. Normally the comfort and Paracetamol is enough and a few days later everything is fine; now, however, the chain of events has changed.

On Sunday she was pragmatic about her fever. “It’s low, I tend to get feverish sometimes, the end of a long, stressful school term…” all those things could lead to the elevated reading. Monday she woke up distressed; “it feels different, not my usual mild fever”. On seeing the higher reading she was immediately upset. “I don’t want Covid, I don’t want to give it to you,” were her first fearful thoughts.

That hug of comfort which helps soothe away fear was replaced by a trepidation. Should we hug her? If she has the virus we might already have it; but maybe not. She wept, I reassured her, she dried her eyes and distracted herself watching TV. After the second high reading she, and we, realised we had to follow the guidelines so off she went to isolate herself in her room, cut off from the family she was so looking forward to spending the next ten days of Christmas holidays with.

Instead of just medication and time, it was the NHS 111 Covid-19 online symptom checker which resulted in a doctor phoning us to talk. He was reassuring about what could be but concluded that as we’re in a pandemic Coronavirus is what’s likely and to book a test.

So I booked a test and the nearest centre was 26 miles away. When I tried again later, as it advised, the nearest centre was 79 miles away. I want the test done but are we even allowed to drive that far while isolating? Is everyone ill and testing or are they just testing so they can meet up at Christmas? This is the world of doubt and suspicion we live in. A final refresh and our local test centre popped up and I was able to book a test for the next morning.

So she’ll go and have a Covid-19 test done, return straight home and shut herself away in her bedroom for up to 72 hours until the result comes in. And then see what’s next.

Now she’s managing, distracting herself, bravely telling us to keep out of her room, spraying disinfectant over surfaces when she emerges to use the shared bathroom. Fevers and illnesses come and go with great regularity; she still relishes telling stories of her bout of pneumonia and how the Doctor tried to ‘poison’ her with antibiotics!  But this one, with its uncertainty, with its lack of physical comfort, feels so different from anything that’s gone before and we’re left with just continued precautions and prayers that it will be alright in the end.