This Pandemic gets me to thinking a lot....
To start, I need to go back to a time long before I was born. My Dad had an older sister he never knew. She died just days before her 14th birthday, and 14 months before my dad was born.. Ollie Jean died of a suspected case of Rocky Mountain Spotted fever. It was a time before antibiotics and other medical advancements were available that would likely have saved her life.
The grief and trauma of Ollie Jean's death has reverberated through the Merrill family for decades. My Grandma Beena would weep when telling us anything about her only daughter. I came across Ollie Jean's death certificate not long ago, Seeing her time of death, the funeral home she was taken to and my Grandfather's signature. I wept too. Their grief so tangible even 85 years later.
As if by some cruel twist of fate the summer my dad was 14, he contracted Polio, during the Polio epidemic. My Uncle Bob shared the experience of watching my dad leave in the family's Studebaker, headed to St. Benedict's hospital in Ogden, Utah. Uncle Bob was sure he would never see my Dad alive again. It was so traumatic for all of them. Dad spent the entire summer there and almost didn't survive a choking incident while there. He would struggle with polio's aftermath the rest of his life, I remember countless occasions watching my dad choke because polio had affected his ability to swallow.
It was the summer of 1996. Holly, Bailey and Madison were exactly 31 months, 18 months and 5 months old, respectively. We had just returned from a family vacation in Alberta. Holly and I woke up the next morning with Chicken Pox. We had attend a family reunion in Alberta where someone thought it was no big deal to bring all their kids who had Chicken Pox to the event. Ten days after Holly and I came down with it Bailey and Madison now had it as well.
I called the doctor very concerned about how young Madison was. We were told to watch her closely but not worry too much. A few days later on a Sunday I changed Madison's diaper and noticed an extra angry sore on her thigh. She was miserable and nothing settled her. An hour later I changed her diaper again and the angry redness covered her entire thigh.
I called Grant at work and he immediately rushed Madison to the hospital. I wasn't able to go with them because I was still contagious. Grant called an hour later saying they were admitting Madison and her fever had spiked to 105 F. She was critical. I was terrified we were going to lose her and I couldn't even hold her. My heart broke. Grant held her as she screamed through that night. After a few days on IV antibiotics she turned the corner and was eventually able to come home. She was not left unscathed. Her optic nerve in her left eye was damaged, leaving no functional vision in that eye.
So much grief, trauma and heartache for conditions that are now treatable and even preventable.
Antibiotics saved Madison's life. Alex and Dallyn were given a vaccine that was newly available for them to avoid repeated misery.
So why tell you my family's story??
We now sit in the middle of a world wide pandemic. Something I never imagined happening. There is no vaccine, only supportive treatment and people are dying.
What I have been surprised by the most is the public pandemic shaming that seems to be escalating....
That if I express worry or concern and choose to wear a mask, gloves or make masks for my friends I'm overreacting and being too cautious by those who feel differently.
All I can say is you do you and I'll do me. You pandemic your way and I will pandemic my way.
My life experiences simply lead me to take the precautions I feel necessary. I know the feeling when statistics that seem to be in everyone's favour, suddenly are not in yours. I know the lasting trauma that can destroy families following the death of a child. I know the fear of waiting, hoping and praying hoping your child survives..
And now I will do what ever makes me feel safe during a pandemic and so will you. Let's just stop shaming each other. There is no reward at the end of all of this for who Pandemic-ed better.
