COVID, Luke's Story

Luke startled me awake with the sound of him crying. The familiar, yet unsettling wheezing and gasping was deafening. He lay heavily against my chest, the heat of his body felt like a furnace against my skin. I moved him from where he lay on me, his momma, his safe place, onto the couch so that I could prepare his medications. Earlier that day, we had fallen asleep while watching a movie during one of our infamous "Momma and Son Snuggle-Dates". I had noticed then that he seemed exhausted, but I thought it was because of the long, busy morning that we had. Unfortunately, I was wrong and here is Luke's story.

When the pandemic hit, my first thought was the fear of Luke getting the virus. My family and I had worked hard to be as safe as we all could to keep Luke and ourselves healthy. We wore our masks, washed our hands, and stayed home unless absolutely necessary to go out. Luke has been an asthmatic since he was an infant; not even three months old when his first attack occurred. He is now seven and had been symptom-free for almost 2 years with the help of preventative medications. To say that I was completely caught off guard with this attack is an understatement. Luke's symptoms typically start off small and increase in severity over time, however, this event was came on suddenly with sever symptoms from the start. I had no idea that Luke was sick before he woke up unable to breath.

After several attempts at administering at-home nebulized medications with minimal to no improvement, I knew that this was not a typical asthma attack. I had followed Luke's asthma recovery plan and he continued to get worse. It was typical of Luke to run a low grade fever with his asthma flares, however, Luke's fever also increased in severity despite medications. When Luke became notably cyanotic around his mouth and nose, it was obvious that Luke needed medical intervention quickly.

My husband and I loaded Luke up into the car and headed toward the hospital emergency room. On our way, it was becoming clear that Luke was struggling harder than I had ever seen him. He became lethargic and could not speak. It was taking all of his energy just to breath. I had never seen my sweet boy like this and I was terrified. Thankfully, we only had a short distance to travel from our home to the Emergency Department.

As soon as the car stopped outside of the emergence room entrance, I threw open the car door and hurried inside, my baby boy cradled in my arms. He was barely conscious and his wheezing had become tight, squeak-like sounds. He was immediately brought back to an exam room; nurses and doctors hurried about, vitals, placing IVs, starting medications, obtaining blood and nasal swabs for tests. With all of the medical staff working in unison, Luke was quickly stabilized.

As I sat beside the hospital bed, lights low with nothing but the steady sound of the heart monitor beeping and the quiet low hiss of oxygen flowing, I held Luke's hand as he rested. The once steady traffic of medical personnel had slowed to an occasional nurse coming in to adjust the settings on the oxygen that is now flowing through a mask on my sweet boy's face. It gave me time think about everything that had happened so far and wonder if I had missed any signs that Luke was so sick. My thoughts were interrupted by the light suddenly flickering on. The light so bright that it took me a few seconds to adjust. I could see the Doctor standing just inside the door, dressing in a white paper-like jumpsuit with a PAPR mask over her head and face. Before, she had just been draped in a disposable gown and an N95 mask. Immediately I knew that my son had COIVD-19.

The Doctor confirmed what I had known in my heart all along. The Doctor had told me that Luke was so sick that he would require hospital admission. Not only was Luke having asthmatic exacerbation due to being COVID positive, he was also Rhinovirus positive and unable to breath adequately on his own. He was requiring high amounts of oxygen that could not be maintained outside of a hospital setting. It was explained that Luke would have to be transported by ambulance to a pediatric hospital an hour and a half away so that he would have the care and treatment that he needed. My worst fears had came true. My Baby Boy had COVID. My Baby Boy was extremely sick, and I was terrified.

When the EMS crew came to get Luke, he felt so bad that he didn't even care that he was going to get to ride in an ambulance. He rested during the transport, which thankfully, I got to accompany him on. It was hard to see his tiny little body on that huge stretcher in the back of the ambulance. It was then that I realized that despite Luke having COVID or asthma, Luke is strong. He is strong willed, independent, stubborn, and does things how HE wants to do them. Even though I was scared, I needed to trust that Luke had the determination and strength to be okay.

Just as we pulled under the ambulance canopy at the Pediatric Hospital, Luke woke up. His face was pale and he looked so tired and fragile. But I definitely noticed the spark that had not left his beautiful ocean blue eyes. He was calm as we traveled through the large hospital to his in-patient room. He didn't say much, but looked around at his surroundings and I could see the curiosity in his eyes as we moved hall to hall, floor to floor.

As we entered his room, he sat up a bit and looked around, gave an approving nod as if to say he was pleased with his accommodations; that old soul of his showing through. He was determined to move himself over from the stretcher to his hospital bed, and that made me smile. He was a tiny little man in an adult sized situation. Luke's naturally pale skin and mess of red hair under the bright florescent lights. The oxygen mask on his face and monitors beeping and glowing in the background.

The Doctors, nurses, and respiratory therapists came in and out constantly for the next few days. Luke slept for the better part of three days. He was on oxygen, nebulized medications, antiviral medications, steroids, and medications to help with nausea. When he was awake, he was the spunky, quick-witted Luke that we all know and love. That helped me to be less afraid about his recovery. I could push past that fear when he would make the nurses or doctors laugh. I knew he would be okay.

On day four, Luke woke with an appetite of a lion! He would unplug himself from the monitors and sit in the chair next to his bed or sit on the couch and look out the window. He refused to stay in bed. He was my wild and crazy Luke again! He was still on oxygen via a nasal cannula, but was being slowly weaned off of it completely. The medical staff was happy, yet amazed with his improvement. While they fully expected Luke to get better, they were expecting him to be sick for weeks, not days. We were all happy with how well Luke was doing!

We are on day 5 now and the medical staff is saying that there is a very good chance that Luke can go home tomorrow. We all have spent a year afraid of this virus. We all have heard and experienced bad things, lost jobs, lost money, lost people. It has been such a hard time for everyone. I wanted to share Luke's experience with others and hopefully share some happiness. We wore masks, stayed home, followed all of the guidelines. Luke still got sick. But today, Luke is well. He is currently singing at the top of his lungs while playing a video game. Luke says that COVID is a nasty bad guy and that he is a superhero. He said that the bad guy got him down, but that he fought back and beat the bad guy. That's right Baby Boy, You fought the bad guy, and you won!

*Name changed to protect Child*