A three year old’s quarantine jailbreak

We celebrated our younger son, Li En’s third birthday a few days ago in central quarantine in Beijing. It was Day 4 on our 14 day hideaway, and a birthday celebration felt like an unusually big ray of sunshine to our Groundhog days.

That is, until life throws you a dash of lemon.

As life’s curved balls go, this one came at us right at 6.30am in the morning on his birthday. The little one woke up and was immediately showing discomfort. He was listless, whiny and visibly very tired. I tried to pump him up with promise of what’s in store for his much-awaited big day, but he just slumped into the sofa, deflated.

Within the next three hours, he was clearly in a bad shape. A piece of bread in his system and out came his stomach liquids. Over the next three hours, the poor boy was rushing in and out of the toilet, hurling liquids along the way.

Under normal home circumstances, it would have taken a couple of rounds of mopping and washing. But here we are in a hotel room, carpets galore, hand towels become floor towels, floor towels become mops, I had to make do with whatever cleaning product I had. Meanwhile, the boy hurled all over me while I carry him into the toilet for the fourth time. I then went on discover he had lost control of his bowels and purged diarrhoea at the same time. So into the shower we both went.

And as luck would have it, I realised quickly that the two key drugs I stupidly forgot to pack, were child Panadol, and oil for stomach wind. Here’s where China’s medicine logistics is useful, but limited. I went on the trusty Meituan delivery app and tried to order drugs online. This is possible now, especially thanks to Covid. Highly efficient, but also highly adminstrative, I quickly realised. In order to proceed with payment, I had to input my personal details, and of course, foreigners’ ID don’t work, again.

Thankfully my home is only 5km away, so the other possible solution was to find a friend who could go to our apartment and retrieve the drugs. The plan worked brilliantly, and within the hour, we had the drugs we needed on hand.

However, Li En’s situation wasn’t improving. While he didn’t have fever, his lips were pale and he was in a daze. Vincent and I were worried – we needed some medical advice. I didn’t have anything useful but water for him. But calling a doctor – under quarantine circumstances – would basically mean they would send us straight into quarantine hospital as our profile posed a Covid risk. Would we be separated? When could we return?

I consulted a few friends and we decided we had to be responsible for the poor boy. We had to make sure Li En’s situation would not deteriorate.

And so, Vincent called for help. Within minutes, the staff in the hospital were activated to deal with our problem. They had never had a reported case of a sick quarantine guest (normally they deal with cases with OTC drugs), let alone that of a young child. So while Vincent and I discussed the possible scenarios that laid ahead, the staff downstairs planned our Covid-safe route to the hospital. As I waited for them to give instructions, I felt like I was preparing for an arrest warrant.

Within 30 mins, a staff dressed in full PPE gear (even goggles), showed up to escort Li En and I downstairs. I packed our clothes, books for all the scenarios we prepared for. Then we headed down in our masks.

That moment as we left was surreal. Down at the lobby was an ambulance and two medical staff in full PPE. Even if I wasn’t scared before, I was scared then.

I clutched Li En tightly in the ambulance as we whizzed through Ring 3 of Beijing city. Traffic was heavy but with its siren, there was no stopping, the wheels just keep turning. Li En meanwhile, just kept snoozing.

In the hospital, a lovely doctor and her band of nurses (all decked in PPE too) were ready for us. I felt embarrassed at that moment knowing that LiEn’s condition was mild, especially relative to the others in the wards. But we weren’t given choices in our situation. You just follow procedures.

The kind doctor checked his belly, his tongue, his palm. She asked in Chinese as she pressed around his stomach “Does it hurt here? Here? What about here?” Li En whined as he whispered yes to all the areas she had pressed. She smiled. Ah, my manja boy.

She first considered a blood test, but given his age, she didn’t want to hurt him unnecessarily. And so she suggested a liquids test, to see if he would still hurl it out. Meanwhile, Li En dozed off again.

As he slept, another technician pushed in an a ultrasound scan machine. As he scanned Li En’s belly, Li En just kept on sleeping. He was that tired. Thankfully, all signs were good. He even had a full bladder, which meant that he was still well hydrated.

The doctor was confident that the little one was well enough to recover on his own. His dozing off was a good sign – his body was trying to recover as he slept. Thankfully his temperature was well under 37.5deg, the threshold for whether they would consider other possibilities, including Covid.

And so, we were prescribed the necessary to manage the vomits while we served out the rest of the quarantine. I tried to recall the possible moments where Li En could have eaten something wrong, especially since our meals had been shared throughout the quarantine. But bless the soul of a three year old – I’ve seen him lick the carpet, lick the water coolers at the airport.. why should I be surprised he’s hurling like a monster!

The rest of the day went by in a flurry. Li En kept on sleeping for the rest of the day. By dinner time, he was already doing well enough to put on his birthday crown. The little dinosaur cake I had ordered arrived on time.

As we sang his birthday song, I felt a flood of relief that this episode passed as quickly as it came. Quarantine life has restrictions that test your creativity when you don’t have the things you need on hand, but it has taught me that help is there if you ask for it. For that, I am so thankful for the friends and colleagues who’ve been so thoughtful with advice, time and support. It all came together just when we needed the help.

Last of all, so grateful for good health. Our kids have a long way to go in learning what being in the pink of health means. And even if it means getting bouts of awful sickness at least they learn what it means to go through recovery.

That said, given that Li En went on to lick his own birthday cake before we sang his birthday song that very day, it is going to take a lot more to knock some sense into this little guy!