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What I learned about illness, hospitals and paranoia

My 6-year-old son had a hacking, persistent cough for weeks. It stayed for at least a full month.

According to WebMD, it could have been caused by asthma, bronchitis, a goiter or the early onset of Pompe Disease, which may have been the most frightening of all of the possibilities, because I had no idea what it was.

So his father took him to Premium Pediatrics in Niles, where the physician’s assistant listened to his lungs, prescribed cough syrup, and sent him home. He continued to cough. He would cough so much that his eyes would water and his cheeks would turn red. He looked like a cartoon character with the way his eyes would bug out. But still, he ran around the house, played outside and only sometimes complained of a sore throat. And the coughing continued.

So his father took him to Northside Hospital in Youngstown. The physician’s assistant listened to his lungs, prescribed a steroid and some high-tech inhaler and sent him home. Perhaps it was the early signs of asthma.

Then something happened the very next day. He sat out of recess and visited the school nurse, who sent him home. Now he was vomiting, running a fever, complaining of sharp stomach pains, and even napping voluntarily.

A typical mother, I was no longer worried about Pompe Disease. Instead, I was thinking Ebola and Enterovirus D68. I was Googling like a mad woman and marking off symptoms and panicking. I was taking and retaking the poor boy’s temperature: 102.3 103.1 103.8 It was time to go to the ER. His father carried his moaning, floppy body to the van and strapped him in.

When your child is sick, your mind makes up terrible, evil scenarios. I had ruled out Ebola, but Enterovirus D68 had been confirmed in Ohio. Kids had died from it. I maintained a calm outward appearance and silently prayed.

The physician’s assistant at Northside came in briskly and listened to my boy’s lungs, finding something “wrong” with his right lung, leading to blood work and further exams, an ultrasound and x-rays. Then we waited, listening to our son moaning in his sleep.

The P.A. returned, her reassuring smile immediately put me at ease. Appendicitis was mentioned, as was pneumonia. A transfer was put in to Akron Children’s Hospital Boardman campus.

A nurse put in an IV and even used “Astronaut Tape” to secure it, a sticky tape that doesn’t hurt when it’s pulled off because “astronauts always cry when you pull tape off their skin.” This brought a faint smile to my son’s face.

The EMTs were amazing. They talked to my boy gently and joked with him, too. They helped me into the giant, state-of-the-art ambulance. The driver, Scott, talked to me about Ebola. He reminded me that it could only be passed along through bodily fluids. He informed me that, like HIV, the Ebola virus cannot survive in a dry state. So wash your hands, particularly if you touch something wet.

So what about Enterovirus D68? I spoke with one of my son’s cheerful and attentive nurses at ACH. Because my son had pneumonia, a respiratory illness, he was in isolation. Visitors, nurses and doctors wore gloves, paper robes, and masks when entering his room. The nurse informed me that this was a precaution because of EV D68, but she didn’t think it was any more dangerous than any other respiratory virus.

I Googled it, and found: “The prognosis of most enterovirus infections is good; most individuals will spontaneously resolve their infection in about seven to 10 days and have no complications,” according to Charles Patrick Davis, MD, PhD.

I’m a mother, and I can’t help my over-imaginative fears when my children get sick. I keep up on the news, so I also can’t help but be aware of a spreading paranoia in regards to Ebola and EV D68.

But maybe we can trust that our doctors, nurses, EMTs and PAs know what they are doing. I feel much safer in their hands now that my son is home and on the road to recovery.

Harley is a Tribune Chronicle community columnist. Contact her at editorial@tribtoday.com.

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