Hitting close to home

My oldest son is the middle child. Two behind and five ahead. He lives in Colorado. A musician and bartender, he is most like me in personality and temperament. He looks most like my wife’s family.

He is also very sick from Corona crud, Wuhan fever, the Kung Flu.

Symptoms started a few days ago. The wheezing and coughing reached a point yesterday where he sought medical attention. His doctor met him in the parking lot and sent him off to the ER for official testing after ruling out the regular strains of flu and associated maladies.

At the ER he was told to go home. No tests are available — not at that hospital nor any other in the Denver area. I guess those are reserved for politicians, athletes, actors, and the wealthy. They told him to come back when he could no longer breathe.

He sounds like a septuagenarian emphysema patient with a five pack a day habit who just jogged a mini marathon when I spoke to him last night.

Yes, I’m worried.

Government numbers of infected patients are astounding. I suspect the true numbers of the sick are a magnitude higher.. One can only get tested if they are gravely ill, the really sick, and mildly sick are not being tested. At this point we are in the midst of a plague. Fortunately, not a deadly one.

It still doesn’t prevent me from worrying incessantly about my little boy.