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Unprotected People Reports: Influenza |
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Influenza Killed My Beautiful 23-Month-Old Daughter |
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| Click here for a fully-formatted PDF version
of this report |
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| During the 2003-2004 influenza season, the Centers for Disease Control and
Prevention (CDC) received reports of 152 influenza-related deaths among children
(18 years of age and younger) from 40 states. Although influenza varies in
severity from year to year, children are hospitalized and die from the
complications of influenza every influenza season. Over half of these deaths
occur in children younger than 5 years of age. |
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| In June 2006, CDC officially recommended that all infants and young children who
are 6 months through 59 months of age receive the influenza vaccine. Providing
influenza vaccine to this vulnerable population has the potential to reduce
child mortality. |
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| In December 2003, Colorado experienced its worst influenza epidemic in years.
Among the influenza-related fatalities that month was Elizabeth Terese Cover,
who died from complications of influenza weeks before her second birthday. As
part of their healing process, Vira and Dennis Cover, Elizabeth's parents,
established a foundation in their daughter's name, the Elizabeth Terese Cover
Foundation for Influenza Research and Vaccination. In August 2006, Elizabeth's
mother wrote a deeply moving letter to the Immunization Action Coalition. To
educate people about both the severity of influenza and the need for influenza
vaccination in young children, she granted us permission to share her letter of
loss, mourning, and hope. |
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I feel so alone without Elizabeth. She was always with me. She accompanied me on
all my errands to the grocery store, bank, and post office. She helped me with
my chores; she got down on her little hands and knees and imitated mama cleaning
the floor. She would open and close both the dryer and dishwasher doors. Between
chores, I would read books to her, or we would have a tea party, play with her
dolls, or swing. Soon, it would be time to put her down to sleep, and then we
would snuggle close in the rocker as I kissed her. She was part of everything I
did, my best little friend. I miss her. I wish she was here.
My name is Vira Ilczyszyn-Cover. I now watch a video of sweet Elizabeth. I laugh
with joy at her innocent, uninhibited personality. And for just a moment,
Elizabeth is with me. There is no fever, no cough, no lethargy, and no
influenza. There is no grave to dig, or stone to carve.
There is Elizabeth, and Elizabeth is dancing. But when the video stops, so does
the laughter. And I resume my slow walk through the valley of the shadow of
death. I remember the feeling of her cold angelic face, I remember her
breathlessness.
The black bag of sorrow is hard to bear. It's hard to bear because not everyone
understands my grief. They did at first. They did at the funeral. They did at
the graveside.
"It is God's will," people say. I just can't reconcile that statement with a
child's death. They don't go together. God wills life, sunshine, and gentle
breezes. God wills majestic mountains and fields of wildflowers. God wills
satisfying sex and melodious music. God wills exuberant praise, abundant
Thanksgiving, and heartfelt petition. God does not will death, destruction, and
disease.
My grief lingers. As silently as a cloud slides between me and the afternoon
sun, memories drift between me and joy, leaving me in a chilly shadow. There was
no warning.
Just the sight of her favorite toy or the verse of a song she loved, her
blond-blond hair, bright blue eyes, and warm embrace, and I say good-bye all
over again.
The reactions of grief are not like recipes, with given ingredients and certain
results.
My grief lingers because I am dealing with more than memories, I am dealing with
unlived tomorrows. I am not just battling sorrow, I am battling disappointment.
I am also battling anger. It may be on the surface. It may be subterranean. It
may be a flame. It may be a blowtorch. But anger lives in sorrow's house: anger
at myself, anger at life, and anger that takes the form of a three-letter
question, Why? Why Elizabeth? Why any child?
God heard me, answered me, and gave me hope through the Elizabeth Terese Cover
Foundation for Influenza Research and Vaccination.
Elizabeth was just 23 months old when influenza struck her and took her life on
December 1, 2003. This horrible virus took at least 150 children during the
2003-2004 influenza season.
Everyone needs to take influenza much, much more seriously. Parents, please
vaccinate your children against influenza. Children as young as 6 months old
should be vaccinated. And remember vaccines are safe.
In the event your child develops influenza-like symptoms, seek the advice of a
health professional. Laboratory testing can confirm if your child is ill with
influenza. Anti-influenza treatments are available for both children and adults.
A beautiful white dove symbolizes the goal of our daughter's foundation. The
following poem is about her flight into heaven:
The Dove Awaits
Now I lay me down to rest
I'll tell the Lord I did my best
I leave this world when I am young
My sweet young life had just begun.
I don't know much of Heaven's bliss
But I just know I'll miss your kiss...
Your smile, your face, your sweet embrace.
My wings are small and I can't wait,
Please send a dove from Heaven's Gate.
The angels there will be my friends,
They'll teach me all of Heaven's trends.
Singing in the choir, dancing in the clouds,
Chasing moonbeams all around.
My little feet must not touch the ground,
For the smallest angels are Heaven bound.
My wings are small and I can't wait,
I see a dove from Heaven's Gate.
Please don't worry, for don't you see,
My Heaven's Father has promised me,
We'll all be together in eternity.
Be brave and strong, it won't be long,
Until this glorious day.
My friend, the dove will come for you
To take you on your way.
You'll be surprised when you arrive
To see my smiling face.
I'll lead you in and we'll begin
To celebrate at Heaven's Gate.
My wings are small and I can't wait,
I'll ride this dove to Heaven's Gate.
It's time to go, I'll say good-bye,
My friend, the dove awaits.
Vira Ilczyszyn-Cover
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| 1/26/07 • REPORT #67 |
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| Disclaimer: The Immunization Action Coalition (IAC) publishes
Unprotected People Reports for the purpose of making them available
for our readers' review. We have not verified the content of this
report. |
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