Embracing Hope: Thoughts On Long Covid and the Pursuit of Healing
Amidst the frustrations and fatigue, finding gratitude and progress in a season of recovery.
It was three weeks ago, just after Christmas, when I started coming down with what felt like a cold.
Sore throat? Check.
Chills? Check.
Exhaustion that I carried around like a pile of heavy blankets? Check.
I started taking Covid tests, but every single one turned up negative. After a couple days, I developed a cough. Then, several loved ones with whom I’d spent the holidays tested positive for the very first time.
Two years ago, despite the vaccination and several boosters, I contracted my own first episode of Covid. It took months to finally start feeling like myself, and I’ve been managing Long Covid ever since. The most frustrating symptoms have been fatigue, brain fog, anxiety, insomnia, and vagus nerve dysfunction — including dizziness, fainting, muscle tension, heart rate fluctuations, and abdominal issues.
These days, with this most recent illness, I constantly ache to sleep. My level of exhaustion reminds me of the earliest days of my four pregnancies, when my body was focused on some very important work. Back then, I didn’t feel guilty admitting when I was wiped out; I was grateful for what my body was capable of.
Today, as I literally feel my body working hard to heal itself, I’m trying to remember that same level of gratitude and acceptance. To be sure, though, it’s frustrating to feel this tired. It’s annoying to trip over words, to forget names and details, to leave social events early because I tire easily just standing with friends and navigating conversations.
I’ve been trying my best to be *myself*, but the truth is I don’t feel anything like me these days. When look in the mirror, I see a somewhat withered, weathered, deflated version of me. It takes surprising effort to wake up, to dry my hair after a shower, to grocery shop and keep the kitchen tidy. And then, after all that, it takes hours in bed before my body finally relaxes enough to find the sleep it craves.
I remind myself that my 55-year-old menopausal body won’t bounce back from illness the way my 23-year-old self did. I also remind myself that living in a three-story Victorian row house — and all the stair climbing I must do every day — is a very good thing for building stamina during recovery.
Still, it’s sometimes hard when I look outside and see folks jogging by. It’s sometimes hard when I see my neighbor hustling up and down the front porch, one baby on her hip and two youngsters barely keeping up. It’s sometimes hard to see social media images with #morningrun and #getoutside and #energy2024 tagged to the posts. Those images remind me of my pre-Covid life, a life that feels very far away right now.
And yet, as I type this, my mom sends me a text, and my face lights up:
“Just tested negative for Covid! Yay!”
I set down my phone, turn to the window, and smile.
The sun is shining today. The world will keep on spinning. Progress is all around us, even when we can’t see it. I’m in the midst of a season of healing — and healing often takes longer than we realize.
And, if hope is medicine, then I have everything I need to make a full recovery.
Sick or not, how does exhaustion show up for you? How have you navigated a season of healing? What were the hardest parts for you? What gave you hope?
I have fibromyalgia, and can fully empathize with what you’ve been experiencing since there are so many similar symptoms. After a flare that required four shots of morphine, I was given some excellent advice: to treat self care like it’s a job. Every time I need to lie down for 30 minutes (which always helps), I remember that I need to do this so that I can be engaged with everything else going on in my life. To not think about it as being indulgent or lazy, but rather like putting fuel in my car.
Also: this is a terrible time of year, arguably the worst. The snow is no longer charming, it’s annoying to have to put boots and puffy coats on, the cozy togetherness of the holidays is over, and the school year feels endless. I think the absolute BEST way to manage it all is with connection. Getting together with people who love and know you. And with people who will make you laugh and remind you that we are all part of this together ❤️❤️❤️
I had back surgery in August and lots of complications due to 2 autoimmune diseases. I just started PT this week and although my body is weak I am too hopeful. I turned 50 this year and it has been the hardest year of my life lots of dark dark moments that are easy to gloss over with the hope I feel now. Those dark moments were the worst and continue to teach me so much. Mostly learning the hope doesn't block out the dark or vice versa just saddles up there next to it to say hey together we are your lived experience.
So sorry to hear about your experience with Long Covid. Wishing you lots of hope and healing in 2024. Thank you for sharing helps me feel less alone. Such a gift.