Captain Trips has been hanging out at our house for the past two weeks.

My wife, our two toddler sons and I have spent nearly two weeks hibernating and suffering from the H1N1 virus. As my wife works in health care and my 3-year-old attends preschool three days a week, it’s impossible to know how this vampire-like virus slipped uninvited into our home, but I know it’s not my fault; I work in the laboratory-pure environment of print journalism. There’s nothing cleaner or more deadly to an evil force of nature.

One by one, each of us succumbed to the fever, congestion, pistol-shot coughing and energy-sapping malaise H1N1 bequeaths. It has been a hellish merry-go-round. As soon as one of us steps off the ride and starts feeling better, another begins to get worse; we rotate degrees of sickness, taking turns for who has the highest fever, palest face and greenest mucus at any given time.

I hope the government never tries to count how many pounds of Kleenex and baby wipes we have burned through. My guess is a good-size forest would still be standing had we not gotten sick. Our house smells like Vick’s humidifier mist, infant Motrin, Hall’s mentholyptis cough drops, empty orange juice containers, stale Vernor’s and fever sweat.

One of the great contentions is temperature control. One of us is freezing while the other is roasting. One of us wants a window open and one wants four extra blankets.

Our 3-year-old, Evan, has been understandably cranky, but brave considering the amount of temperature-taking intrusion he has suffered. One day, he may understand how fortunate he is to have his temperature taken in his ear instead of his rear, — what a difference an “r” makes — but for now, despite a few moments of defiance, he has been remarkably well behaved.

His 1-year-old brother Sean, who can’t be talked through the experience, has been harder to console during the worst of the fever and aches, but has still mostly slept and just wants to be held. It’s amazing how those moments of holding him close manages to make parent and child feel better.

So, what does H1N1 feel like? Well, heaven knows many people have suffered far worse than we have, but imagine having 16 pounds of Sahara Desert sand boot-stomped into your sinuses one grain at a time, then having each individual grain set on fire by one of the proton-stream laser packs the Ghostbusters use. Throw in a fever that makes every bone and joint feel like thin glass, post-marathon weariness that no amount of sleep can repair and a total loss of appetite and you’re on the right track.

Everything is wet; sneezes, coughs, running noses, running eyes; it’s like a bizarre-world rainforest.

I know we are blessed; we experienced no nastiness on either end of the digestive track and for that we are wearily and forever grateful.

Our professional lives have also suffered. My wife and I have missed two weeks of work; if your e-mail or phone call to the Toledo Free Press office has remained unanswered, try me again next week. Evan had not missed any classes during his short preschool career, but out of concern for his health and the health of his classmates, we’ve kept him at home for a week. He’ll have to catch up on PlayDoh 101 and Introduction to Snack Time.

The worst for Evan was missing Halloween’s trick-or-treat festivities. Yes, there are 73 million things more tragic than missing walking the neighborhood for a bag of free candy, but at 3, these things are important, and it was tough telling Evan his 103-degree fever meant he would have to sit out the night. He took it well, asking if maybe the world could postpone Halloween until he was better, but a promise of an extra Halloween cartoon on TV and moving his mattress near the foot of our bed for a campout eased the disappointment. Plus, some of his neighborhood friends collected some treats for him and dropped them off, so he seemed content.

There is some controversy regarding the H1N1 vaccine, but the Centers for Disease Control suggests the following ways to reduce your chances of contracting this nasty bug.

• “Cover your nose and mouth with a tissue when you cough or sneeze. Throw the tissue in the trash after you use it.”
• “Wash your hands often with soap and water. If soap and water are not available, use an alcohol-based hand rub.”
• “Avoid touching your eyes, nose or mouth.”
• “Try to avoid close contact with sick people.”
• “If you are sick with flu, stay home for at least 24 hours after your fever is gone.”

Our family physician helpfully reminded us that although H1N1 is the focus and current villain, we will still have the regular seasonal strains of A and B flu virus to contend with. But there are contamination suits on eBay for less than $25; maybe we can get a set with our current family crest: a mom sneezing, coughing and valiantly carrying two toddlers and one slightly whiny husband on her shoulders, a look of determination in her face, a look of pure love in her eyes.

That’s my way of saying thanks, Shannon, for taking care of us.

All of us.

Michael S. Miller is editor in chief of Toledo Free Press. Contact him at mmiller@toledofreepress.com.

Tags: H1N1

This entry was posted on Friday, November 6th, 2009 at 12:00 am and is filed under Lighting The Fuse, Opinion.
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