A human face on the undiagnosed cases: my son
One of the most disconcerting features about COVID-19 is the number of undiagnosed cases. We have more than 10,000 confirmed cases in the United States. Based on this number, and logistic curve calculations, we should expect a rapid growth of cases every day, particularly if a substantial portion of the population is still not committed to social distance practices. However, what we do not see is that the vast majority of cases are undiagnosed and thus hidden.
According to a recent report in Science, there are probably 10 times the number of actual cases in the population, bringing U.S. numbers closer to 30,000 instead of 10,000. The projected curve on that number is staggering.
My 13-year-old son has put a human face on this phenomenon. David has been ill for 4-5 days. Symptoms have included: shortness of breath, congestion, coughing and a temperature. You can hear the congestion in his chest when he coughs. We emailed his pediatrician and he responded by phone almost immediately.
Personally, he was reassuring and helpful. However, the substance of his response was disconcerting. He said, based on our description, he probably had the coronavirus. However, he also recommended that we do not come in. He said: “Even with our tented facilities this is no place to be unless you absolutely have to be.” He continued: “We don’t have enough tests and given his age and no underlying condition, he will probably only have mild symptoms. Call me if it gets worse.” He also reminded us that if he tested positive there is no treatment. “We just send patients home to take care of themselves.”
We were told to isolate him from other family members, particularly since my wife, Summer, had a heart attack a few months ago, placing her at higher risk from the virus.
We have made him as comfortable as we can, maintaining some distance and helping him ride out the storm. Cold medicine that allowed him to sleep was the most important treatment, along with fluids and fresh air whenever possible.
He appears to be on the mend, getting back to his online classes and, of course, gaming with friends, but still coughing. In spite of trying to be positive and productive and even appreciating our new quality of life, his cough is a terrifying reminder looming in the background of our consciousness.
His illness underscores the seriousness of the condition and inadequacy of our preparations, as well as the lack of capacity to confront this viral attack: insufficient masks and personal protection for our health care providers and soon-to-be overrun hospitals and medical professionals.
More to the point, my son’s condition was never formally diagnosed. It is not part of the record. It is one more point on the chart of undiagnosed and thus uncounted cases. He places a human face on the real numbers that should be all the more alarming or at least a wake-up call for all of us.