Family Relations

by Canada Montgomery

On March 31st, my sixteen-year-old brother texted me: Canada would the Coronavirus affect me badly because I have asthma? This was just two weeks after I was suspended from my clinical duties as a clerkship student, probably a month since I had started to take the coronavirus seriously, and likely a month and half since my mom told me to stock up on food if I hadn’t already. When I read the text, my mind went blank.

Before, I was used to my family asking me for medical advice. On two occasions this past year, I talked family members through another family members’ hospital course and eventual death. From meds nurses were pushing, imaging results, how a blood thinner could then cause a “bleed on the brain.” I was able to navigate this terrain with ease even with only limited medical knowledge I had gained since starting medical school. But my brother’s question felt different.

As the big sister, do I protect him? Do I say something that would ease his fears and make him feel better? Do I address the question head on and provide a direct answer as if I were giving bad news to a patient? I was stuck.

Then more thoughts started to run through my mind. Why was he asking me this now? Was it because of something he watched, something he read, something my mom or sister told him? I felt like I needed to know what originally planted the question in my brother’s mind to be able to answer his question and accurately soothe his fears. As I sat at my kitchen table, staring at my phone, I realized only 5 mins had gone past. I was letting my thoughts be unleashed and run wild to buy time. To buy time for myself, to buy time for my brother’s innocence. Unfortunately, somewhere between finding the words to respond and joining in to a BlueJeans virtual lecture on arthritis, I forgot to reply back to my brother’s fears and anxiety, worry and concerns. If that was used to determine the “best sister of the year” award, I definitely lost.

April 1st came and between another BlueJeans lecture and shelf studying, I remembered my brother’s text. “OH SHIT!!” I said. I grabbed my phone and began typing: Sorry I never replied back to this, I thought I did (a lie). But having asthma may mean you’ll have worse symptoms but as long as you continue to do the things that keep the germs away you’ll be fine. Wash your hands often and don’t touch your face, mouth, nose, and eyes that much.

My text was nothing special, but at least it was something. To this day, I still don’t know what prompted him to ask his question. I just hope I provided him with some type of comfort and security especially during a time I could barely provide myself that.