Well, we are now into the fourth year of the pandemic and having suffered from COVID-19 three times to date, I’m unfortunately in that 10% classified as a ‘long-hauler’.
And having worked in a hospital environment for almost a quarter of a century, the words ‘infection control’ had always been ingrained in my mind. Strict hand hygiene and keeping my germs away from others and vice versa were priorities. I was often at the mercy of nurses in the operating theatre.
Being constantly exposed at work to all sorts of bugs, I thought I would have built up an invincible immune system.
But I guess I was wrong or unlucky. Or both.
It’s An Illness Like No Other
This virus is weird. And I mean totally weird. I’ve probably had 100s of them in my life but have always recovered pretty quickly. This also includes influenza-B in 2016 and swine flu (H1N1) back in 2009.
But it’s hard explaining the effects of “Post-Acute Sequelae of SARS-CoV-2 infection” (PASC), otherwise known as long COVID-19 syndrome, to somebody who has never suffered from it.
Only months ago, after the third time I had COVID-19, I was convinced I was becoming a hypochondriac. Just like a revolving door patient that leaves healthcare providers sighing with despair or rolling their eyes into the back of their heads.
But more and more people are talking about it as the research unfolds. I’m finally feeling relieved I’m not on the verge of neurosis and that it’s ‘all in my head’.
The literature describing myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue-like syndrome is now widely available. Though there is a long way to go, the research has been ground-breaking so far.
In fact, a hallmark study published in Nature identified more than 200 symptoms, making it challenging for diagnosticians to decide what is COVID-19 related and what isn’t.
Furthermore, having any medical knowledge can be dangerous. On top of mine, I started rifling through my old psychiatry textbooks as I often feel I’m losing my short-term memory.
I relentlessly cast my mind back to the patients I’ve treated. To the point I fear I’m developing some form of somatisation or functional neurological disorder. This is where perceived psychological distress manifests itself in a constellation of disconnected physical symptoms.
The Injury Can Be Invisible
Alas, yes. I have contacted many close friends who have experienced the same as me. They, too, were once very healthy and full of energy.
It’s reassuring to know that this condition is real. Talking about this specific condition with others in my position gives me a sense of community and validation.
However, some days are not the same as others. On the days I look ‘well’, my condition may be completely disregarded, making me feel like a charlatan.
As a result, my psychological well-being can be significantly affected by feelings of frustration, sadness, and even hopelessness, especially when combined with manifestations of the disease itself. The neuropsychiatric effects of COVID-19 have now been well documented.
Combined with the widely described ‘brain fog’, where one can feel permanently jet-lagged, you often have to literally ‘think about thinking’. Its negative impact on my social life or connecting on a professional level becomes evident as often people have glared at me wondering whether ‘there was anyone at home’.
The emotional toll of long COVID-19 can be particularly difficult for those who have lost loved ones to the virus. My friends have described feelings of guilt when they survived, but their friends or relatives have died.
Others are depressed by shame as they were not there to hold their relatives’ hands and see them take their last breath due to travel restrictions or being in a lockdown situation.
So, as you can imagine, it’s not just a physical illness.
Looking Beyond the Brain Fog
Now that long COVID-19 is recognised, support is out there in all its miraculous forms. It’s a matter of reaching out to all the available resources tailored to the individual, as this condition affects everyone differently.
It is only then that one can move forward slowly but surely. However, at this stage, it seems hard to tell who will recover the quickest, if at all.
It stands to reason that sufferers like myself do not want to be pitied or treated as hapless victims. After all, not everyone wants to be defined by what they’re struggling through.
Nevertheless, it certainly makes me appreciate chronic illness on a different level.
For now, I have to take each day as it comes. I am slowly learning to overcome the obstacles that will eventually free me from the constraints of a condition that left me prostrate in bed for days at one point.
Having said that, it has made me become more resilient. I am slowly emerging on the other side with a renewed appreciation for the simpler pleasures in life. On better days, my life is filled with hope and gratitude towards an even brighter future.
Today was one of my better days; at least I am not sitting inanimately at my desk feeling like I have cotton wool between my ears and am zombified.
I even managed to suture some sentences together here that will hopefully make some sort of sense.
Perhaps you know of somebody who is or has gone through the same?
Or perhaps even you? Comments welcome.
About the author
Dr Surrinder Singh is a medical doctor, blogger and freelance writer. He is passionate about healthcare, medicine and education and works professionally with B2B and B2C clients.
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