Like today’s weather threatened by two storms a-brewing, the past few days have been quite a blur. Cecile and I felt like headless chickens in a gray yard, running round and round, looking for solution, praying, hoping for the best.

Our second and youngest child, Jao, woke up with fever and headache. Seven days earlier, he had been grappling with both cough and cold.

They were enough symptoms for our doctor-friend to recommend a swab test. Through Viber chat groups, we learned of a company that provided home service for RT-PCR tests.

It wasn’t all that easy. The only way to reach this company is through their online service, which left much to be desired. We couldn’t get sufficient reply, or if we did, they came in spots or none at all.

We tried calling their mobile phone. No answer. All of these we had to endure in the midst of poor Internet connection and rising anxiety from family members.

Finally, a nurse showed up at our doorstep at 7 p.m. She came by motorcycle, a reed-thin, model-figure, young lady who did her jab. She changed into her all-blue PPE at our garage, where she also conducted the swab.

She informed us that results should be out after 24 hours. They were to be our longest hours.

When the results reached us in the afternoon of the next day, we thanked God profusely. Jao was COVID-19 negative.

Our jubilation came too early. The fever was still there the morning after, so Jao had to be tested again, this time, in hospital.

Our godson, Dr. Paolo Luna, director of St. Luke’s ER department, warned against the rising incidence of dengue cases. True enough, while waiting at the ER, Jao tested positive for dengue.

The next two days were a succession of visits to the ER, where a series of CBC tests showed either a rise or fall of his platelets. When the platelets dropped to 74,000 and his fever was high at 39 degrees Celsius, our doctor thought home care wasn’t enough.

It was just as bad that Jao was experiencing throbbing, splitting headache. It was a sight any parent couldn’t bear.

We were to confine our son, but there was no room available. We waited six hours at the ER before we finally booked a room, where he was to be in solitary confinement.

Thank God, Jao is well now.

Lessons

One: Going to hospital, specifically, any Emergency Room, can be scary. It’s like entering the set of a science-fiction film, where everyone, led by Morgan Freeman, is covered with thick hospital gear from head to toe.

If you can help it, please avoid being near one, if you don’t want your anxiety levels to act up. It’s also very expensive to enter an ER, costing you P3,000 plus for entry alone, including PPE gear for the patient’s companion.

Two: Since most, if not all, medical transactions are being conducted online these days, we need to be assured by government that our internet connection should be up and running at high speed.

It could be so frustrating reaching out to contacts (doctors, nurses, consultants) when Facebook’s Messenger says we’ve got poor connection. Inside our home for instance, we couldn’t access a Globe signal.

Three: Keep praying. Let your friends and family know what’s going on through your chat groups. They’re quite helpful and effective. Praying by group storms the heavens and God listens. See, He gave us a room in six hours while others wait for days.