How Do You Treat Long Covid? Patients Surveyed for Answers

By Esther Landhuis, Undark Magazine

In January 2020, Martha Eckey was working at a retail pharmacy in Champaign, Illinois, when she developed a sore throat, hacking cough, and stiff neck. A second bout of illness struck about a month later, leaving the pharmacist with a persistent fever and shortness of breath. Covid tests were unavailable at the time, but she tested positive for influenza.

The biggest challenge was “crushing, debilitating fatigue,” she told Undark. “No amount of sleep left me feeling even remotely refreshed,” she added by email. Three-and-a-half years later, Eckey has still not recovered.

Shortly after her initial illness, Eckey started reading about people with lingering post-Covid symptoms, and although she never knew for certain which virus caused her initial illness, those symptoms seemed strikingly similar to hers.

After connecting with patients navigating these conditions, Eckey wondered if she had developed myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome, or ME/CFS, a long-lasting illness that can crop up after a viral infection.

She went to see several physicians, but they “told me they were not taught about post-viral illnesses,” she recalled. “It literally wasn’t in their curriculum.” Eckey had not learned about post-viral syndromes in her four-year doctor of pharmacy training, either.

MARTHA ECKEY

Long Covid and ME/CFS are complex illnesses. Up to 2.5 million Americans live with ME/CFS, and more than 65 million people worldwide may have long Covid — though estimates vary and the dozens of symptoms across multiple body systems can make these conditions hard to define and diagnose. In some people, symptoms linger or intensify with time, but in others they occur weeks or months after recovery from the initial infection, which could be mild or undiagnosed.

In a recent analysis of 9,764 adults enrolled in the federally funded initiative RECOVER, long Covid patients fell into four subgroups based on symptoms, many overlapping with ME/CFS and other conditions. By studying biological samples from these participants, researchers hope to identify markers that can inform future trials of potential therapeutics.

Yet for now, despite an influx of research funding, there are no widely accepted treatments approved by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration to ease sufferers’ symptoms. In that void, desperate patients have turned to a range of proposed solutions — from microbiome treatments to vitamin supplements to experimental techniques like “blood washing” — to find relief. In this vast array of possible therapies, some are exorbitant and most are unproven.

Eckey quit her pharmacy job in August 2020 to search for useful patterns amid that chaos. Unlike most national initiatives and large academic research programs, Eckey is employing a bottom-up approach: She polls patients on which interventions they’ve tried and how they fared, in the hope that this crowdsourced knowledge might contain valuable insights for improving long Covid care.

While surveys like Eckey’s come with inherent limitations, some researchers think such grassroots efforts can help inform more rigorous studies.

“Large clinical trials cost millions of dollars, and it’s impossible to test hundreds of different things at once,” said Akiko Iwasaki, whose lab at the Yale School of Medicine studies the immunology of long Covid. “Knowing what has benefited the patients already provides us with insights that can be tested in future trials.”

Medications and Supplements

Late in the summer of 2022, Eckey, known to social media followers and Substack subscribers as LongCovidPharmD, created several surveys using Google Forms and shared them on Twitter (more recently rebranded as X).

One of the surveys listed about two dozen medications — including Paxlovid, statins, and beta blockers— and had respondents tick boxes for the ones they had tried. It asked them to indicate if taking the drug seemed to “moderately improve,” “vastly improve,” worsen, or have little to no effect on long Covid symptoms or quality of life. Other sections asked if they had conditions that commonly occur alongside ME/CFS or long Covid, such as dysautonomia, mast cell activation syndrome, or a history of blood clots.

Eckey also grew curious about supplements — a category that includes probiotics or enzymes, herbs, minerals, vitamins, and other over-the-counter products with suggested uses that are not regulated by the FDA. In social media posts, she noticed that people commenting on supplements would say, “‘Oh, that didn’t work at all for me,’ and then other people say, ‘oh, that cured me,’” she said.

So she created another survey, listing eight types of supplements and asking to what extent they seemed to help with fatigue, cognitive function, and other symptoms. Motivation for that survey also came from Eckey’s own frustration with being unable to get any prescribed treatments, she said: “I thought, ‘Well, I think I just have to figure out how to treat myself.’”

With more than 200 respondents, the surveys gave a sense for which types of supplements seemed most helpful. Additional surveys focused on the most promising supplements — which doses were used and for what frequency and duration, whether patients improved or felt worse, and which symptoms patients noticed seemed to be affected.

Eckey analyzed the results and started posting detailed summaries on X. Then, in late 2022, her work caught the attention of the Open Medicine Foundation, a California-based nonprofit that has raised $40 million to diagnose and treat complex, multi-system diseases including ME/CFS, long Covid, and others that have eluded doctors.

No Approved Treatments

ME/CFS and long Covid have no FDA-approved treatments, and neither has a definitive diagnostic. The situation echoes that of early days of AIDS, which, decades ago, was defined by symptoms rather than measurable changes inside the body, said Wenzhong Xiao, a computational biologist at Harvard Medical School who directs the foundation’s efforts on ME/CFS treatments.

Regulators typically validate medical treatments through a formal application that specifies the substance’s composition and how it’s made. The application also proposes further study in clinical trials, which generally won’t launch without supportive data from smaller pilot studies. When the Open Medicine Foundation came across Eckey’s work, the organization was already trying to decide which potential treatments to test in pilot studies for long Covid, and was making a registry from which to recruit patients. 

Building on her initial surveys with information gleaned from published trials, case studies, patient feedback, and her “own pharmacist intuition,” Eckey created a more comprehensive version, called “TREAT ME,” and tweeted it on Feb. 5, 2023. 

The survey — which, by Eckey’s account, took about 1,000 hours to produce — covered more than 150 medications and supplements. After collecting details about a person’s symptoms, lab tests, and medical history, the survey asked about treatments: whether they appeared to help, which symptoms improved, how long it took to see benefits, how long the benefits lasted, and whether they were outweighed by side effects. If a medication did not seem to help, the survey asked how long it was tried and at which doses.

“No one has done that deep a dive,” said Linda Tannenbaum, the CEO of the Open Medicine Foundation.

By the time the survey closed for analysis in late March, the responses had climbed to nearly 4,000.

Survey Bias

Despite the potential, surveys have unavoidable, inherent biases that can influence how data is collected and results are interpreted, said internist Lucinda Bateman, founder of the nonprofit Bateman Horne Center — a clinical care, research, and educational organization in Salt Lake City, Utah, that focuses on chronic, complex disorders including long Covid. First, there’s selection bias: Who decides to participate and why? There’s sampling bias: Who never hears about it? There’s also non-response bias: People for whom a treatment has little to no obvious effect may be less likely to participate. 

Surveys also hinge on participants’ own accounts, which aren’t typically confirmed with other sourcing. Eckey’s survey, for instance, relied on respondents to indicate whether they had an official or presumed diagnosis of long Covid or ME/CFS.

The approach also can’t typically account for the placebo effects that result from other factors besides a specific treatment or from other ongoing illnesses or treatments, which may skew the results. And beyond the difficulties with diagnosing long Covid, people may “think they got sick during the pandemic, and it’s entirely something else,” said Bateman. The uncertainty in the data is “just what happens when you do surveys,” she added.

Eckey agreed with these caveats, noting that she tried “to limit bias to the extent that I could.” For instance, to ease non-response bias, the survey instructions encouraged participants to rate treatments “even if they had no effect,” she said.

She also prompted participants to specify underlying conditions and treatments, and responses could be filtered accordingly. And Eckey included one supplement that she believed would have little to no impact on symptoms, figuring questions about it “could act as a sort of ‘placebo’ against which other treatments could be compared.” On a similar vein, she asked about several treatments that were hyped at various times and found their reported benefits to be “underwhelming” or not statistically different from related drugs.

The supplement industry is vast and largely unregulated, with many products lacking solid evidence for health benefits. Research to produce that evidence is a complex, costly process that requires FDA input, often participation from the company that produces the supplement, and approval by an independent ethics committee. What’s more, such trials must follow a company’s best guess on the right doses, optimizing the supplement’s benefit while minimizing side effects.

This approach comes with substantial risks for illnesses like long Covid, which cause a range of symptoms that differ from one person to the next, said David Putrino, director of rehabilitation innovation for the Mount Sinai Health System in New York. A single treatment won’t necessary work for all of them, Putrino, who studies and treats long Covid patients, added in an email, and “you feel like you only have ‘one shot.’”

Eckey’s survey, he said in a phone interview, “allows me to actually make data-driven decisions on what seems to be working.”

The approach is already prompting new studies. Some researchers think that certain long Covid symptoms stem from tiny blood clots; more than 60 percent of Eckey’s survey respondents said they felt better after taking supplements containing enzymes that break down fibrin, the main protein that forms the clots.

These results helped Putrino and colleagues choose one of the enzymes, called lumbrokinase, for a long Covid trial planned for early 2024.

“My desire to get better and help others in similar situations is what keeps me going.”

— Martha Eckey

The Open Medicine Foundation team is also using the survey results to inform drug trials. In a more typical trial, the group mines published scientific literature and uses machine learning to predict which medications might help. These analyses would have likely missed lumbrokinase, since it appears in relatively few academic research papers, Xiao said. Based on Eckey’s survey findings, he said, his team is “definitely thinking about doing follow-up studies.”

Beyond her dataset, Xiao added, Eckey is herself is an inspiration: “I can imagine how much effort she put, despite her own symptoms, to make this happen.”

Eckey’s lingering fatigue still keeps her mostly housebound — and, on some days, stuck in bed — but she told Undark via email that her cardiovascular symptoms have improved. On her better days, she said, she plans to volunteer at a free ME/CFS clinic that treats post-Covid patients: “My desire to get better and help others in similar situations is what keeps me going.”

Esther Landhuis (@elandhuis) is a California-based science journalist and a senior contributor to Undark. She covers biomedicine at all stages — lab discoveries, clinical trials, biotech, healthcare and its intersections with law and business. Her stories have also appeared in Scientific American, Nature, Medscape, JAMA, Science News, Quanta and other outlets.

This article was originally published by Undark, a non-profit, editorially independent online magazine covering the complicated and often fractious intersection of science and society. You can read the original article here.

We Need Better Treatments for Long Covid, Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue and More

By Dr. Seth Lederman

Headlines about COVID have faded, and the United States will soon turn the page on public emergency status for the pandemic. The virus no longer dominates most of our lives, yet there are still thousands of new hospitalizations daily and an estimated 15 million Americans currently suffer from Long COVID.

The deep impact of long-haul cases has contributed to a surge of patients with disabling conditions, who are often misdiagnosed or treated ineffectively. More than one in five people infected with COVID-19 develop Long COVID and its constellation of physical and neurological symptoms. The persistent pain, fatigue, sleep problems and brain fog are similar to two other post-infectious syndromes, fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS/ME).

A recent study of both conditions and Long COVID documented that the physical and cognitive impairments of Long COVID were exacerbated in people previously diagnosed with CFS/ME or fibromyalgia. These types of chronic overlapping pain conditions have long been recognized by the National Institutes of Health (NIH), and the president’s National Research Action Plan on Long COVID similarly makes the connection between CFS/ME and Long COVID.

More than 50 million people struggle with these neurological illnesses every year in our country, and the burden of their chronic diseases comes at incalculable personal harm, along with billions of dollars in healthcare costs and lost productivity. 

There is one common denominator among all these unrelenting illnesses: the human brain. Physicians like me who study infectious and neurological diseases know that getting a drug’s active ingredients into the brain is not easy. Unlike biologic drugs, which are usually administered by injection, the only medications that can cross from the bloodstream into the brain are small-molecule drugs.

But big pharmaceutical companies have largely abandoned the development of new small-molecule therapeutics, instead pursuing biologic drugs which tend to be more expensive and profitable. That is because of a complex mix of federal laws granting longer market exclusivity to biologics, patent law changes that remove economic incentives to develop new small-molecule therapeutics, and mounting Food and Drug Administration hurdles.

Yet small-molecule drugs can be highly effective and life-changing, as well as relatively cost-effective to manufacture and distribute. They are our best hope for offering real relief to people struck by cruel conditions rooted in brain function.

As we pick up the pieces from a once-in-a-generation pandemic, we cannot ignore the rise in debilitating post-infectious diseases. In a sense, the people afflicted by these illnesses are living with invisible scars from the infections that preceded their current illnesses. There is an urgent need to help them by restoring incentives for small-molecule drug development and streamlining regulatory processes for new treatments.

The government should be accelerating efforts to expand its support for new drug therapies to address fibromyalgia, CFS/ME, Long COVID, and other illnesses that originate in the brain. The untapped potential of emerging therapeutics is unacceptable, as is the fact that many patients’ symptoms are frequently misinterpreted or dismissed.

It is good news that the Advanced Research Project Agency for Health has been established within NIH to pursue biomedical breakthroughs. But our country could still be doing more on this front. Congress has the power to legislate a more level playing field for small-molecule drug development, correcting decades of bureaucratic bias.

Lawmakers should appropriate more resources to fast-track clinical trials and scale-up delivery of novel therapies for post-infectious diseases. Public-private partnerships could also go a long way towards bridging the gap between treatments that would transform patients’ lives and their current limited options.

We know from our experience with COVID that medical science is capable of swift and significant breakthroughs. Our public health system should be equipped to readily diagnose and effectively treat people with fibromyalgia, CFS/ME, Long COVID, and similar devastating illnesses.

While the symptoms of these diseases are often not visible, our responsibility to provide patients with advanced and effective care is very real. For millions of Americans and their families, the time for better treatments is now.

Seth Lederman, MD, is a physician-scientist and CEO of Tonix Pharmaceuticals, a company developing technologies to treat Long COVID, PTSD, fibromyalgia, and other diseases.

The Healthcare System Is Sick, How Could It Ever Heal Us?

By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

As a person who has required ample medical attention throughout my life, a constant part of the never-ending struggle for treatment is finding a provider that’s worth-a-damn to administer quality healthcare.

In childhood, I was fortunate to have one practitioner who treated every member of my family. Although most of it was an excruciating trial and error process, I can at least say they tried. When she retired, for continuity’s sake I gravitated toward someone else in the same medical practice.

By then my initial condition (chronic head pain) had not only become more complicated, but I was also battling another diagnosis (fibromyalgia) -- one that the new provider did not seem to take seriously. I chose to dismiss myself from the practice.

At that point, I became more conscious about the sort of doctor I was seeking, so I spent hours researching every clinic in my surrounding area and reviewing doctors’ bios. It was imperative that whoever I chose possess some sort of background or special interest in pain. 

I found a candidate I was so excited about that I left in happy tears after the first appointment. Unfortunately, that did not last long. On the next visit, I was diagnosed with my second round of Covid-19 and they proceeded to blame my chronic fatigue, joint pain and compromised mobility on the coronavirus -- as opposed to the fibromyalgia I’d already been diagnosed with years before the pandemic.

I shrugged it off as a misunderstanding, and assumed they must have meant the exacerbation of my fibromyalgia symptoms was caused by Covid.  

At appointment number three, we discussed preventative screenings due to some issues relating to potential hereditary concerns. After some urging, they explained the process of going in for testing, assured me I’d be contacted by qualified personnel, and guaranteed that I’d receive a direct message from them personally once all this was set in motion.

My only job was to wait, so I did. And I continued to wait. A month later, I’m still waiting.

Of course, I realize I’m not the only patient in the universe. As a retired healthcare worker, I understand the burnout so many providers must be experiencing after the last 3 years.  I recognize the shortages and feel privileged to have any sort of access. That being said, over the last two months at least two members of the pain community have taken their own lives. This is an example of what led them there. 

I vowed this was going to be the final disappointment that I am willing to accept from the healthcare system. I am paying more for medical insurance than I ever have, but receive the least amount of aid.

Given that previous failures are what led me to explore more holistic methods, I do not reside in woo-woo land. Concepts like breath work and herbs felt a bit degrading and insulting at first, but then I decided to set my reluctance aside, remembering how lost just about everything I tried up to then had left me. I reflected on the fact that I almost didn’t survive long enough to even consider something different. 

I’d never suggest that natural treatments will cure whatever horrendous illness a person may be enduring, but I’ll point out that many holistic remedies go back thousands of years. Ideas that were once dismissed, such as gut health being correlated to mental well-being; inflammation being the main culprit in overall sickness; oral hygiene (or lack thereof) directly impacting the heart; and how exercise improves mood and health are now widely accepted as mainstream.

Some of these ideas have gained traction, but utilizing things like plants won’t ever be fully encouraged or supported because it takes money away from Big Pharma – which ironically produces medication that is often derived from natural sources as well.

All of this is an open invitation to explore different ways to care for ourselves. We can remain distraught over our lack of support or we can be empowered by seeking out what we can do, as opposed to what they’ll “allow.”

I don't know about you, but continuing to put the quality of my life in the hands of those who repeatedly demonstrate their lack of concern and who are in the business of profiting off sickness is a death wish. The healthcare system is not only guilty of this, but sick itself. How could it ever heal us?

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headache and fibromyalgia. She is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook advocacy and support group, and Peace & Love, a wellness and life coaching practice for the chronically ill. 

Treating Long Covid Still a Mystery

By Blake Farmer, Kaiser Health News

Medical equipment is still strewn around the house of Rick Lucas, 62, nearly two years after he came home from the hospital. He picks up a spirometer, a device that measures lung capacity, and takes a deep breath — though not as deep as he’d like.

Still, Lucas has come a long way for someone who spent more than three months on a ventilator because of covid-19.

“I’m almost normal now,” he said. “I was thrilled when I could walk to the mailbox. Now we’re walking all over town.”

Dozens of major medical centers have established specialized covid clinics around the country. A crowdsourced project counted more than 400. But there’s no standard protocol for treating long covid. And experts are casting a wide net for treatments, with few ready for formal clinical trials.

It’s not clear just how many people have suffered from symptoms of long covid. Estimates vary widely from study to study — often because the definition of long covid itself varies. But the more conservative estimates still count millions of people with this condition.

For some, the lingering symptoms are worse than the initial bout of covid. Others, like Lucas, were on death’s door and experienced a roller-coaster recovery, much worse than expected, even after a long hospitalization.

RICK LUCAS

Symptoms vary widely. Lucas had brain fog, fatigue, and depression. He’d start getting his energy back, then go try light yardwork and end up in the hospital with pneumonia. It wasn’t clear which ailments stemmed from being on a ventilator so long and which signaled the mysterious condition called long covid.

“I was wanting to go to work four months after I got home,” Rick said over the laughter of his wife and primary caregiver, Cinde.

“I said, ‘You know what, just get up and go. You can’t drive. You can’t walk. But go in for an interview. Let’s see how that works,’” Cinde recalled.

Rick did start working earlier this year, taking short-term assignments in his old field as a nursing home administrator. But he’s still on partial disability.

Why has Rick mostly recovered while so many haven’t shaken the symptoms, even years later?

“There is absolutely nothing anywhere that’s clear about long covid,” said Dr. Steven Deeks, an infectious disease specialist at the University of California-San Francisco. “We have a guess at how frequently it happens. But right now, everyone’s in a data-free zone.”

Researchers like Deeks are trying to establish the condition’s underlying causes. Some of the theories include inflammation, autoimmunity, so-called microclots, and bits of the virus left in the body. Deeks said institutions need more money to create regional centers of excellence to bring together physicians from various specialties to treat patients and research therapies.

No Cure or Treatment

Patients say they are desperate and willing to try anything to feel normal again. And often they post personal anecdotes online.

“I’m following this stuff on social media, looking for a home run,” Deeks said.

The National Institutes of Health promises big advances soon through the RECOVER Initiative, involving thousands of patients and hundreds of researchers.

“Given the widespread and diverse impact the virus has on the human body, it is unlikely that there will be one cure, one treatment,” Dr. Gary Gibbons, director of the National Heart, Lung, and Blood Institute, told NPR. “It is important that we help find solutions for everyone. This is why there will be multiple clinical trials over the coming months.”

Meanwhile, tension is building in the medical community over what appears to be a grab-bag approach in treating long covid ahead of big clinical trials. Some clinicians hesitate to try therapies before they’re supported by research.

Dr. Kristin Englund, who oversees more than 2,000 long covid patients at the Cleveland Clinic, said a bunch of one-patient experiments could muddy the waters for research. She said she encouraged her team to stick with “evidence-based medicine.”

“I’d rather not be just kind of one-off trying things with people, because we really do need to get more data and evidence-based data,” she said. “We need to try to put things in some sort of a protocol moving forward.”

It’s not that she lacks urgency. Englund experienced her own long covid symptoms. She felt terrible for months after getting sick in 2020, “literally taking naps on the floor of my office in the afternoon,” she said.

More than anything, she said, these long covid clinics need to validate patients’ experiences with their illness and give them hope. She tries to stick with proven therapies.

For example, some patients with long covid develop POTS — a syndrome that causes them to get dizzy and their heart to race when they stand up. Englund knows how to treat those symptoms. With other patients, it’s not as straightforward. Her long covid clinic focuses on diet, sleep, meditation, and slowly increasing activity.

But other doctors are willing to throw all sorts of treatments at the wall to see what might stick.

At the Lucas house in Tennessee, the kitchen counter can barely contain the pill bottles of supplements and prescriptions. One is a drug for memory. “We discovered his memory was worse [after taking it],” Cinde said.

Other treatments, however, seemed to have helped. Cinde asked their doctor about her husband possibly taking testosterone to boost his energy, and, after doing research, the doctor agreed to give it a shot.

“People like myself are getting a little bit out over my skis, looking for things that I can try,” said Dr. Stephen Heyman, a pulmonologist who treats Rick Lucas at the long covid clinic at Ascension Saint Thomas in Nashville.

He’s trying medications seen as promising in treating addiction and combinations of drugs used for cholesterol and blood clots. And he has considered becoming a bit of a guinea pig himself.

Heyman has been up and down with his own long covid. At one point, he thought he was past the memory lapses and breathing trouble, then he caught the virus a second time and feels more fatigued than ever.

“I don’t think I can wait for somebody to tell me what I need to do,” he said. “I’m going to have to use my expertise to try and find out why I don’t feel well.”

DR. STEPHEN HEYMAN

This story is from a reporting partnership that includes WPLN, NPR, and Kaiser Health News, a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues.

Is Another Covid Spike Coming? 6 Tips to Help You Stay Safe

By Celine Gounder, Kaiser Health News

The emergence last year of the highly transmissible omicron variant of the covid-19 virus caught many people by surprise, and led to a surge in cases that overwhelmed hospitals and drove up fatalities. Now we’re learning that omicron is mutating further to better evade the immune system.

Omicron-specific vaccines were authorized by the FDA in August and are recommended by U.S. health officials for anyone 5 or older. Yet only half of adults in the United States have heard much about these booster shots, according to a recent Kaiser Family Foundation poll, and only a third say they’ve gotten one or plan to get one as soon as possible. In 2020 and 2021, covid cases spiked in the U.S. between November and February.

Although we don’t know for sure that we’ll see another surge this winter, here’s what you should know about covid and the updated boosters to prepare.

1. Do I need a covid booster shot this fall?

If you’ve completed a primary vaccination series and are 50 or older, or if your immune system is compromised, get a covid booster shot as soon as possible. Forty percent of deaths are occurring among people 85 and older and almost 90% among people 65 and over. Although people of all ages are being hospitalized from covid, those hospitalizations are also skewing older.

Unvaccinated people, while in the minority in the U.S., are still at the highest risk of dying from covid. It’s not too late to get vaccinated ahead of this winter season. The United Kingdom, whose covid waves have presaged those in the United States by about a month, is beginning to see another increase in cases.

If you’ve already received three or more covid shots, you’re 12 to 49 years old, and you’re not immunocompromised, your risk of hospitalization and death from the disease is significantly reduced and additional boosters are not likely to add much protection.

However, getting a booster shot provides a “honeymoon” period for a couple of months after vaccination, during which you’re less likely to get infected and thus less likely to transmit the virus to others. If you’ll be seeing older, immunocompromised, or otherwise vulnerable family and friends over the winter holidays, you might want to get a booster two to four weeks in advance to better shield them against covid.

You may have other reasons for wanting to avoid infection, like not wanting to have to stay home from work because you or your child is sick with covid. Even if you aren’t hospitalized from covid, it can be costly to lose wages or arrange for backup child care.

One major caveat to these recommendations: You should wait four to six months after your last covid infection or vaccination before getting another shot. A dose administered too soon will be less effective because antibodies from the previous infection or vaccination will still be circulating in your blood and will prevent your immune cells from seeing and responding to vaccination.

2. Do kids need to be vaccinated even if they’ve had covid?

Although children are at lower risk for severe covid than are adults, the stakes for kids are higher than many diseases already recognized as dangerous. Their risk shouldn’t be measured against the risk that covid poses to other age groups but against the risk they face from other preventable diseases.

In the first two years of the pandemic, covid was the fourth- or fifth-leading cause of death in every five-year age bracket from birth to 19, killing almost 1,500 children and teenagers. Other vaccine-preventable diseases like chickenpox, rubella, and rotavirus killed an average of about 20-50 children and teens a year before vaccines became available. By that measure, vaccinating kids against covid is a slam-dunk.

Children who have had covid also benefit from vaccination. The vaccine reduces their risk of hospitalization and missing days of school, when parents might need to stay home with them.

But it’s precisely because the stakes are higher for kids that many parents are anxious about getting their children vaccinated. As recently as July, just after the FDA authorized covid vaccines for children as young as 6 months, a KFF poll found that over half of parents of children under age 5 said they thought vaccines posed a greater risk to the health of their child than getting the disease. And in the most recent poll, half said they had no plans to get their children vaccinated. Covid vaccination rates range from 61% among children ages 12 to 17 to 2% among kids younger than 2.

Similar to influenza, covid is most deadly for the very youngest and oldest. At especially high risk are infants. They’re unlikely to have immunity from infection, and a small share have been vaccinated. Unless their mothers were vaccinated during pregnancy or got covid during pregnancy — the latter of which poses a high risk of death for the mother and of preterm birth for the baby — infants are probably not getting protective antibodies against covid through breast milk. And because infants have small airways and weaker coughs, they’re more likely to have trouble breathing with any respiratory infection, even one less deadly than covid.

3. Will I need a covid shot every year?

It depends on the targets set by public health officials whether covid becomes a seasonal virus like the flu, and how much the virus continues to mutate and evade humanity’s immune defenses.

If the goal of vaccination is to prevent severe disease, hospitalization, and death, then many people will be well protected after their primary vaccination series and may not need additional shots. Public health officials might strongly recommend boosters for older and immunocompromised people while leaving the choice of whether to get boosted to those with lower risk. If the goal of vaccination is to prevent infection and transmission, then repeat boosters will be needed after completing the primary vaccination series and as often as a couple of times a year.

Influenza is a seasonal virus causing infections and disease generally in the winter, but scientists don’t know whether covid will settle into a similar, predictable pattern. In the first three years of the pandemic, the United States has experienced waves of infection in summer. But if the covid virus were to become a wintertime virus, public health officials might recommend yearly boosters. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommends that people 6 months and older get a flu shot every year with very rare exceptions. However, as with the flu, public health officials might still place a special emphasis on vaccinating high-risk people against covid.

And the more the virus mutates, the more often public health officials may recommend boosting to overcome a new variant’s immune evasion. Unfortunately, this year’s updated omicron booster doesn’t appear to provide significantly better protection than the original boosters. Scientists are working on variant-proof vaccines that could retain their potency in the face of new variants.

4. Are more covid variants on the way?

The omicron variant has burst into an alphabet soup of subvariants. The BA.5 variant that surfaced earlier this year remains the dominant variant in the U.S., but the BA.4.6 omicron subvariant may be poised to become dominant in the United States. It now accounts for 14% of cases and is rising. The BA.4.6 omicron subvariant is better than BA.5 at dodging people’s immune defenses from both prior infection and vaccination.

In other parts of the world, BA.4.6 has been overtaken by BA.2.75 and BF.7 (a descendant of BA.5), which respectively account for fewer than 2% and 5% of covid cases in the U.S. The BA.2.75.2 omicron subvariant drove a wave of infections in South Asia in July and August. Although the U.S. hasn’t yet seen much in the way of another variant descended from BA.5 — BQ.1.1 — it is rising quickly in other countries like the U.K., Belgium, and Denmark. The BA.2.75.2 and BQ.1.1 variants may be the most immune-evasive omicron subvariants to date.

BA.4.6, BA.2.75.2, and BQ.1.1 all evade Evusheld, the monoclonal antibody used to prevent covid in immunocompromised people who don’t respond as well to vaccination. Although another medication, bebtelovimab, remains active in treating covid from BA.4.6 and BA.2.75.2, it’s ineffective against BQ.1.1. Many scientists are worried that Evusheld will become useless by November or December. This is concerning because the pipeline for new antiviral pills and monoclonal antibodies to treat covid is running dry without a guaranteed purchaser to ensure a market. In the past, the federal government guaranteed it would buy vaccines in bulk, but funding for that program has not been extended by Congress.

Other omicron subvariants on the horizon include BJ.1, BA.2.3.20, BN.1, and XBB, all descendants of BA.2.

It’s hard to predict whether an omicron subvariant or yet another variant will come to dominate this winter and whether hospitalizations and deaths will again surge in the U.S. Vaccination rates and experience with prior infections vary around the world and even within the United States, which means that the different versions of omicron are duking it out on different playing fields.

While this might all sound grim, it’s important to remember that covid booster shots can help overcome immune evasion by the predominant omicron subvariants.

5. What about long covid?

Getting vaccinated does reduce the risk of getting long covid, but it’s unclear by how much. Researchers don’t know if the only way to prevent long covid is to prevent infection.

Although vaccines may curb the risk of infection, few vaccines prevent all or almost all infections. Additional measures — such as improving indoor air quality and donning masks — would be needed to reduce the risk of infection. It’s also not yet known whether prompt treatment with currently available monoclonal antibodies and antiviral drugs like Paxlovid reduces the risk of developing long covid.

6. Do I need a flu shot, too?

The CDC recommends that anyone 6 months of age or older get an annual flu shot. The ideal timing is late October or early November, before the winter holidays and before influenza typically starts spreading in the U.S. Like covid shots, flu shots provide only a couple of months of immunity against infection and transmission, but an early flu shot is better than no flu shot. Influenza is already circulating in some parts of the United States.

It’s especially important for people 65 or older, pregnant women, people with chronic medical conditions, and children under 5 to get their yearly flu shots because they’re at highest risk of hospitalization and death. Although younger people might be at lower risk for severe flu, they can act as vectors for transmission of influenza to higher-risk people in the community.

High-dose flu vaccines and “adjuvanted” flu vaccines are recommended for people 65 and older. Adjuvants strengthen the immune response to a vaccine. It is safe to get vaccinated for covid and the flu at the same time, but you might experience more side effects like fevers, headache, or body aches.

Kaiser Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues.

Why I Still Take Precautions Against Covid

By Victoria Reed, PNN Columnist

We are three years into the Covid-19 pandemic, and while life has still not returned to normal, it’s understandable for people to be tired of hearing about the virus and less concerned about catching it. Scientists know more about covid and have developed tools to treat and even prevent the most serious outcomes.

But many of us who are suffering from chronic illness or chronic pain are still wearing masks, practicing social distancing and taking other precautions.

As I go out and about in my daily life, I’ve noticed that mask use is somewhat minimal. People don’t seem to be as concerned about the virus and its variants, even as cases are skyrocketing again. I’m one of the few who still wears a mask in crowded indoor places, airplanes and restaurants.

Fortunately, I have not yet been infected with covid. I attribute that to always being cautious in public (sometimes even outside) and when around family members who I know aren’t taking precautions. Being vaccinated and boosted is another layer of protection I believe has helped me.

The choice to be vaccinated is a personal one and should not be looked at as a political issue or be a source of ridicule. The same goes for mask use. Sometimes people look at me funny because I still wear a mask, but I am “allowed” to do that, just as others are equally allowed to stop wearing theirs.

I don’t judge people who choose not to wear a mask, and conversely, I shouldn’t be judged for wearing one.

Part of my caution comes from having a dysfunctional and overactive immune system, which is altered by a medication I take to control symptoms of rheumatoid arthritis (RA). This medication suppresses a certain part of the immune system that is implicated in the development of RA.  Rheumatoid arthritis primarily attacks the joints, but can also attack the heart, lungs and eyes.

Having to take this particular med (commonly called a biologic), makes me more vulnerable to contracting all types of infection, including covid. It also makes it more difficult to recover from infections and can lead to serious or even deadly complications. 

In addition, the threat of possibly ending up with long covid, when symptoms linger for months or longer, is a concern of mine, especially since fatigue is a major part of long covid syndrome. Profound and disabling fatigue is also a feature of RA and fibromyalgia, so anything I can do to prevent another illness that causes fatigue is important to me. Even mild cases of covid can cause long covid, according to researchers.

Covid can also lead to physical complications. Studies have shown that the virus can cause neurological problems, difficulty breathing, joint or muscle pain, blood clots or other vascular issues, chest pain and unpleasant digestive symptoms.

Furthermore, the virus has been associated with increased psychological problems, such as depression and anxiety. The media has reported on the unfortunate suicides of people who had been suffering from long covid and were unable to get any relief besides ending their own lives.

In the long term, it remains to be seen how covid will affect the millions of us who are already suffering from chronic pain and illness. Fortunately, there are treatments that help with the symptoms and recovery for the majority of people who become infected. There are also medications that can save the lives of those who are at high risk of severe illness.

As more time passes, I’m sure other treatments will emerge, and I’m hopeful that as a chronic pain sufferer with multiple chronic illnesses, I will be okay if I do someday end up getting sick with covid.

Victoria Reed lives in northeast Ohio. She suffers from endometriosis, fibromyalgia, degenerative disc disease and rheumatoid arthritis. 

Long Covid Symptoms Often Overlooked in Seniors

By Judith Graham, Kaiser Health News

Nearly 18 months after getting covid-19 and spending weeks in the hospital, Terry Bell struggles with hanging up his shirts and pants after doing the laundry.

Lifting his clothes, raising his arms or arranging items in his closet leave Bell short of breath and often trigger severe fatigue. He walks with a cane, only short distances. He’s 50 pounds lighter than when the virus struck.

Bell, 70, is among millions of older adults who have grappled with long covid — a population that has received little attention even though research suggests seniors are more likely to develop the poorly understood condition than younger or middle-aged adults.

Long covid refers to ongoing or new health problems that occur at least four weeks after a covid infection, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Much about the condition is baffling: There is no diagnostic test to confirm it, no standard definition of the ailment, and no way to predict who will be affected.

Common symptoms, which can last months or years, include fatigue, shortness of breath, an elevated heart rate, muscle and joint pain, sleep disruptions, and problems with attention, concentration, language, and memory — a set of difficulties known as brain fog.

Ongoing inflammation or a dysfunctional immune response may be responsible, along with reservoirs of the virus that remain in the body, small blood clots, or residual damage to the heart, lungs, vascular system, brain, kidneys, or other organs.

Only now is the impact on older adults beginning to be documented. In the largest study of its kind, published recently in the journal BMJ, researchers estimated that 32% of older adults in the U.S. who survived covid infections had symptoms of long covid up to four months after infection — more than double the 14% rate an earlier study found in adults ages 18 to 64. Other studies suggest symptoms can last much longer, for a year or more.

The BMJ study examined more than 87,000 adults 65 and older who had covid infections in 2020, drawing on claims data from UnitedHealth Group’s Medicare Advantage plans. It included symptoms that lasted 21 days or more after an infection, a shorter period than the CDC uses in its long covid definition. The data encompasses both older adults who were hospitalized because of covid (27%) and those who were not (73%).

The higher rate of post-covid symptoms in older adults is likely due to a higher incidence of chronic disease and physical vulnerability in this population — traits that have led to a greater burden of serious illness, hospitalization, and death among seniors throughout the pandemic.

“On average, older adults are less resilient. They don’t have the same ability to bounce back from serious illness,” said Dr. Ken Cohen, a co-author of the study and executive director of translational research for Optum Care, a network of physician practices owned by UnitedHealth Group.

“The challenge is that nonspecific symptoms such as fatigue, weakness, pain, confusion, and increased frailty are things we often see in seriously ill older adults.”

— Dr. Charles Semelka

Applying the study’s findings to the latest data from the CDC suggests that up to 2.5 million older adults may have been affected by long covid. For those individuals, the consequences can be devastating: the onset of disability, the inability to work, reduced ability to carry out activities of daily life, and a lower quality of life.

But in many seniors, long covid is difficult to recognize.

“The challenge is that nonspecific symptoms such as fatigue, weakness, pain, confusion, and increased frailty are things we often see in seriously ill older adults. Or people may think, ‘That’s just part of aging,’” said Dr. Charles Thomas Alexander Semelka, a postdoctoral fellow in geriatric medicine at Wake Forest University.

Ann Morse, 72, of Nashville, Tennessee, was diagnosed with covid in November 2020 and recovered at home after a trip to the emergency room and follow-up home visits from nurses every few days. She soon began having trouble with her memory, attention and speech, as well as sleep problems and severe fatigue. Though she’s improved somewhat, several cognitive issues and fatigue persist to this day.

“What was frustrating was I would tell people my symptoms and they’d say, ‘Oh, we’re like that too,’ as if this was about getting older,” she told me. “And I’m like, but this happened to me suddenly, almost overnight.”

Bell, a singer-songwriter in Nashville, had a hard time getting adequate follow-up attention after spending two weeks in intensive care and an additional five weeks in a nursing home receiving rehabilitation therapy.

“I wasn’t getting answers from my regular doctors about my breathing and other issues. They said take some over-the-counter medications for your sinus and things like that,” he said. Bell said his real recovery began after he was recommended to specialists at Vanderbilt University Medical Center.

Long Covid and Dementia

James Jackson, director of long-term outcomes at Vanderbilt’s Critical Illness, Brain Dysfunction, and Survivorship Center, runs several long covid support groups that Morse and Bell attend and has worked with hundreds of similar patients. He estimates that about a third of those who are older have some degree of cognitive impairment.

“We know there are significant differences between younger and older brains. Younger brains are more plastic and effective at reconstituting, and our younger patients seem able to regain their cognitive functioning more quickly,” he said.

In extreme cases, covid infections can lead to dementia. That may be because older adults who are severely ill with covid are at high risk of developing delirium — an acute and sudden change in mental status — which is associated with the subsequent development of dementia, said Dr. Liron Sinvani, a geriatrician and an assistant professor at Northwell Health’s Feinstein Institutes for Medical Research in Manhasset, New York.

Older patients’ brains also may have been injured from oxygen deprivation or inflammation. Or disease processes that underlie dementia may already have been underway, and a covid infection may serve as a tipping point, hastening the emergence of symptoms.

Research conducted by Sinvani and colleagues, published in March, found that 13% of covid patients who were 65 and older and hospitalized at Northwell Health in March 2020 or April 2020 had evidence of dementia a year later.

Dr. Thomas Gut, associate chair of medicine at Staten Island University Hospital, which opened one of the first long covid clinics in the U.S., observed that becoming ill with covid can push older adults with preexisting conditions such as heart failure or lung disease “over the edge” to a more severe impairment.

“It’s hard to attribute what’s directly related to covid and what’s a progression of conditions they already have,” said Gut.

That wasn’t true for Richard Gard, 67, who lives just outside New Haven, Connecticut, a self-described “very healthy and fit” sailor, scuba diver, and music teacher at Yale University who contracted covid in March 2020. He was the first covid patient treated at Yale New Haven Hospital, where he was critically ill for 2½ weeks, including five days in intensive care and three days on a ventilator.

In the two years since, Gard has spent more than two months in the hospital, usually for symptoms that resemble a heart attack. “If I tried to walk up the stairs or 10 feet, I would almost pass out with exhaustion, and the symptoms would start — extreme chest pain radiating up my arm into my neck, trouble breathing, sweating,” he said.

Dr. Erica Spatz, director of the preventive cardiovascular health program at Yale, is one of Gard’s physicians. “The more severe the covid infection and the older you are, the more likely it is you’ll have a cardiovascular complication after,” she said. Complications include weakening of the heart muscle, blood clots, abnormal heart rhythms, vascular system damage, and high blood pressure.

Gard’s life has changed in ways he never imagined. Unable to work, he takes 22 medications and can still walk only 10 minutes on level ground. Post-traumatic stress disorder is a frequent, unwanted companion.

“A lot of times it’s been difficult to go on, but I tell myself I just have to get up and try one more time,” he told me. “Every day that I get a little bit better, I tell myself I’m adding another day or week to my life.”

Kaiser Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues.

HIPAA-critical Vaccine Exemptions

By Mia Maysack, PNN Columnist

A friend recently invited me to a concert that demanded proof of full vaccination against covid or at least a medical exemption from getting one. 

I want to make it clear that I'm not an "anti-vaxxer." But I personally do not feel that I can tell another person what to do with their own body. I exist as a chronically ill person due to circumstances that were entirely out of my control as a child. Through the years, managing these ailments has been daunting, and mainstream treatment options inflicted even more complications that I still live with to this day. 

For credibility’s sake, you should know that I received an average of 30 injections every three months for about 15 years as a method for pain control. The last time I went in, my world was flipped upside down by such a bad reaction to the shots that I haven't returned for that treatment or any other mainstream approaches to medicine.  

Although I'm aware it could've been an allergic reaction (they've been producing cheap medication overseas), I have no reason to expect such a thing won’t occur again. The words “rare” and “unlikely” don’t mean much when bacterial meningitis threatened my young life through an untreated ear infection. That wasn’t a foreseeable circumstance either. So the fact remains: no one can be sure what they are getting. Due to how difficult it has been to survive in this body up to now, I'm not content on taking any more unnecessary risks. 

I requested and was denied a vaccine exemption, the desire for which did not stem from any place of entitlement, but because I cannot gamble with my quality of life. The fact that I'm expected to is an illustration of the deeply rooted problems within our healthcare system and proves that, despite what they claim, it is not operating from a place of patient-centeredness.  

I don't find contentment with the reassurance that few adverse reactions have been reported from covid vaccines, because I personally know people who have experienced them and there simply hasn't been enough time passed for anyone to even begin to know what things could happen down the line. 

I was told that an exemption isn’t something my clinic can do, not even for religious reasons, because they consider it a “personal choice.” The only way to have it granted is to literally attempt an injection and experience adverse effects. But that’s something I’ve already – and barely -- lived through. 

Suffice to say, this is not a one-size-fits-all situation. They encourage everyone to get vaccinated, but why does that encouragement feel more like I’m being forced? I know what's best for my body and if/when I do take the jab, it’ll be on my terms and not because I was bullied into it. 

The job of medical professionals is to honor and be a partner in care. I know this because I was once one of them, but had to step off my beloved hospital floor for good after a setback in my health. Back then, under the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA), we could’ve lost our jobs for peeking into our own medical charts. Yet now we’re suddenly expected to carry personal health information on us at all times and surrender it to everyone who demands it.  How is that not a HIPAA violation? 

Regardless of your stance on the science, it’s undeniable that this conduct is questionable at best. Why are we continuing to allow it? The intention here is not to shame anyone for their choices, but to draw attention to our freedom of choice essentially being eliminated. 

There are many different forms of “justice” but our systems have been designed in ways that evade them, along with any responsibility for their lack of equity.  It’s undoubtedly a hindrance, not only for patients, but our constitutional rights. If this is how our institutions are operating, we should be holding them to public accountability.  

Mia Maysack lives with chronic migraine, cluster headache and fibromyalgia. Mia is the founder of Keepin’ Our Heads Up, a Facebook advocacy and support group, and Peace & Love, a wellness and life coaching practice for the chronically ill. 

I Was Mask Shamed for Having Invisible Illness

By Carol Levy, PNN Columnist

For years I have worn shirts on which I write my political position. I love wearing them. And I wear them proudly. But since the onset of covid and masking, I have worn a different shirt that reads:

“Can’t mask due to medical issue. Trigeminal neuralgia. I have a doctor's note. I am fully vaccinated and boosted.”

This shirt I do not wear proudly. My medical situation is no one's business but my own. But to keep people from yelling at me, I wear the shirt. And it works. People are usually nice about it.

That was not the case when I went to my local hospital for a blood test. Since covid, if I needed to go to the hospital, I called first to tell them, “I can't mask due to a medical issue. Will this be a problem?”

I was told I had to get permission from administrators, but ultimately got the go-ahead to come in.  I’ve been to the hospital a few more times for tests. Each time they let me in with no or little fuss, so when I had to go the last time, I did not call first.

The welcome desk receptionist signed me in, no issue. The registrar signed me in, no issue. I sat for about 20 minutes, noticed by employees and ignored by them, while waiting for my name to be called.

Then a woman dressed in medical scrubs came over to me with a mask in her hand. She did not take me aside. She confronted me right in front of other patients: “You have to wear a mask or leave.”

“No, I can't wear a mask for medical reasons,” I told her. “In fact, I have been in here two or three times with no problem.”

She reiterated: “You have to put on a mask.”

“No, I can't mask. I have a facial pain disorder and can't wear a mask. That why I wear this shirt,” I said, pointing to my shirt.

Another woman joined the fray: “You have to leave if you won’t mask.”

I was getting angry. “I have trigeminal neuralgia. Do you know what that is? Are you nurses?” I asked. “If not, go look it up. I can't wear a mask. And I have come here a few times since covid with no problem about my not being able to mask. Do you think I like wearing this shirt?  You shouldn’t be talking to me like this in a public setting.”

The two women walked away, only to call me back a few minutes later, into a room that was still within earshot and view of other patients. A man in lab clothes had joined them. The woman in purple scrubs (I found out later neither she nor the other woman were nurses or medical people) held out a plastic shield, “You can wear this.”  

I felt defeated, but no one was going to force me to set off the pain by wearing a shield. “No, I told you. I can't have anything on my face.” 

She pushed the plastic shield towards me. “You have to wear one of these then.”

I was trying to remain calm. “Do you know what trigeminal neuralgia is? There is a reason they call it the worst pain known to man and the suicide disease.”  

She continued to insist, “You have to mask.” Then the man spoke up.  "I'm the lab tech.  I won't let you in the lab or take your blood unless you mask.”   

Finally, for some unbeknownst reason, they capitulated. Immediately after registration I was told to walk to the lab. The technician who stated unequivocally that he wouldn't let me into the lab or take my blood did both. 

It was a horrid experience, humiliating because it was done publicly. Mortifying in that I had to defend having pain from an invisible illness. Despicable in that I was forced to fight to stop them from demanding I make the pain worse. Just one more unanticipated horror of being a chronic pain patient.  

Had I said, “I can't mask. I have a lung issue,” and they saw an oxygen tank, chances are good I would have been left alone or quickly taken care of. 

But I said I had something they couldn't see and had never heard of. To them it seemed bizarre. “You can’t touch your face without pain?” That must be made up. 

In the world of covid, how much extra do we have to endure?   I ask myself, often, will there ever be a time, covid or not, when I won't have to explain myself?

Carol Jay Levy has lived with trigeminal neuralgia, a chronic facial pain disorder, for over 30 years. She is the author of “A Pained Life, A Chronic Pain Journey.”  Carol is the moderator of the Facebook support group “Women in Pain Awareness.” Her blog “The Pained Life” can be found here.

A Disabled Activist Speaks Out About Feeling ‘Disposable’

By Rachel Scheirer, Kaiser Health News

In early January, one of the country’s top public health officials went on national television and delivered what she called “really encouraging news” on covid-19: A recent study showed that more than three-fourths of fatalities from the omicron variant of the virus occurred among people with several other medical conditions.

“These are people who were unwell to begin with,” said Dr. Rochelle Walensky, director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Walensky’s remarks infuriated Americans with disabilities, who say the pandemic has highlighted how the medical establishment — and society at large — treats their lives as expendable. Among those leading the protest was San Franciscan Alice Wong, an activist who took to Twitter to denounce Walensky’s comments as “ableism.” Walensky later apologized.

Wong, 47, moves and breathes with the aid of a power wheelchair and a ventilator because of a genetic neuromuscular condition. Unable to walk from around age 7, she took refuge in science fiction and its stories of mutants and misunderstood minorities.

Her awakening as an activist happened in 1993, when she was in college in Indiana, where she grew up. Indiana’s Medicaid program had paid for attendants who enabled Wong to live independently for the first time, but state cuts forced her to switch schools and move back in with her parents.

Wong relocated to the Bay Area for graduate school, choosing a state that would help her cover the cost of hiring personal care attendants. She has since advocated for better public health benefits for people who are poor, sick, or older or have disabilities.

Eddie Hernandez for KHN

The founder of the Disability Visibility Project, which collects oral histories of Americans with disabilities in conjunction with StoryCorps, Wong has spoken and written about how covid and its unparalleled disruption of lives and institutions have underscored challenges that disabled people have always had to live with. She has exhorted others with disabilities to dive into the political fray, rallying them through her podcast, Twitter accounts with tens of thousands of followers, and a nonpartisan online movement called #CriptheVote.

Wong is nocturnal — she typically starts working at her computer around 9 p.m. On a recent evening, she spoke with KHN via Zoom from her condo in the city’s Mission District, where she lives with her parents, immigrants from Hong Kong, and her pet snail, Augustus. The interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Q: Why do you often refer to people with disabilities as oracles?

Disabled people have always lived on the margins. And people on the margins really notice what’s going on, having to navigate through systems and institutions, not being understood. When the pandemic first hit, the public was up in arms about adjusting to life at home — the isolation, the lack of access. These are things that many disabled and chronically ill people had experienced. Disabled people had been trying forever to advocate for online learning, for accommodations in the workplace. The response was: “Oh, we don’t have the resources. It’s just not possible.”

But with the majority inconvenienced, it happened. Suddenly people actually had to think about access, flexibility. That is ableism, where you don’t think disabled people exist, you don’t think sick people exist.

Q: Have you noticed that kind of thinking more since the pandemic began?

Well, yes, in the way our leaders talk about the risks, the mortality, about people with severe illnesses, as if they’re a write-off. I am so tired of having to assert myself. What kind of world is this where we have to defend our humanity? What is valued in our society? Clearly, someone who can walk and talk and has zero comorbidities. It is an ideology, just like white supremacy. All our systems are centered around it. And so many people are discovering that they’re not believed by their doctors, and this is something that a lot of disabled and sick people have long experienced.

We want to believe in this mythology that everybody’s equal. My critique is not a personal attack against Dr. Walensky; it’s about these institutions that historically devalued and excluded people. We’re just trying to say, “Your messaging is incredibly harmful; your decisions are incredibly harmful.”

Q: Which decisions?

The overemphasis on vaccinations versus other mitigation methods. That is very harmful because people still don’t realize, yeah, there are people with chronic illnesses who are immunocompromised and have other chronic conditions who cannot get vaccinated. And this back and forth, it’s not strong or consistent about mask mandates.

With omicron, there is this huge pressure to reopen schools, to reopen businesses. Why don’t we have free tests and free masks? You’re not reaching the poorest and the most vulnerable who need these things and can’t afford them.

Q: How has your life changed during the pandemic?

For the last two years, I have not been outside except to get my vaccinations.

Q: Because you’re so high-risk?

Yeah. I have delayed so many things for my own health. For example, physiotherapy. I don’t get lab tests. I’ve not been weighed in over two years, which is a big deal for me because I should be monitoring my weight. These are things I’ve put on hold. I don’t see myself going in to see my doctor any time this year. Everything’s been online — it’s in a holding pattern.

How long can I take this? I really don’t know. Things might get better, or they might get worse. So many things disabled people have been saying have been dismissed, and that’s been very disheartening.

Q: What kinds of things?

For example, in California, it was almost this time last year when they removed the third tier for covid vaccine priority. I was really looking forward to getting vaccinated. I was thinking for sure that I was part of a high-risk group, that I’d be prioritized. And then the governor announced that he was eliminating the third tier that I was a part of in favor of an age-based system. For young people who are high-risk, they’re screwed. It just made me so angry.

These kinds of decisions and values and messages are saying that certain people are disposable. They’re saying I’m disposable. No matter what I produce, what value I bring, it doesn’t matter, because on paper I have all these comorbidities and I take up resources. This is wrong, it’s not equity, and it’s not justice. It took a huge community-based effort last year to get the state to backtrack. We’re saying, “Hey we’re here, we exist, we matter just as much as anyone else.”

Q: Do you think there’s any way this pandemic has been positive for disabled people?

I hope so. There’s been a lot of mutual aid efforts, you know, people helping each other. People sharing information. People organizing online. Because we can’t wait for the state. These are our lives on the line. Things were a little more accessible in the last two years, and I say a little because a lot of universities and workplaces are going backward now. They’re doing away with a lot of the hybrid methods that really gave disabled people a chance to flourish.

Q: You mean they’re undoing things that helped level the playing field?

Exactly. People who are high-risk have to make very difficult choices now. That’s really unfortunate. I mean, what is the point of this if not to learn, to evolve? To create a new normal. I can’t really see that yet. But I still have some hope.

This story was produced by Kaiser Health News, which publishes California Healthline, an editorially independent service of the California Health Care Foundation.

Long Covid Linked to Overactive Immune System

By Pat Anson, PNN Editor

People who develop long-haul COVID – even when the initial infection was mild or moderate – have a sustained inflammatory response that appears to be the result of an overactive immune system, according to Australian researchers.

Long covid is a poorly understood disorder characterized by body pain, fatigue, cognitive impairment and difficulty sleeping. About a third of people infected with coronavirus develop symptoms that can last for many months.   

“This study provides the strongest evidence to date for a clear biological basis for the clinically apparent syndrome of long COVID,” Professor Anthony Kelleher, Director of the Kirby Institute at UNSW Sydney, said in a press release.

Kelleher and his colleagues analyzed blood samples from 62 patients enrolled in the ADAPT study at St. Vincent’s Hospital, who were diagnosed with COVID-19 between April and July 2020 – before any vaccines were available. The blood samples were collected at three, four and eight months following initial infection, and compared to control groups.

Their study, recently published in the journal Nature Immunology, identified biomarkers of a sustained inflammatory response in long covid patients – suggesting their immune systems were activated by the virus, but then failed to turn off.

“What we’re seeing with long COVID is that even when the virus has completely left the body, the immune system remains switched on. If you measure the same thing after a standard cough or cold, which we did in this study through one of our control groups, this signal is not there. It’s unique to sufferers of long COVID,” said Professor Gail Matthews, who co-leads ADAPT and is Program Head of Vaccine and Therapeutic Research at the Kirby Institute.

“Simply put, when we look carefully at the immune system in people who have had COVID-19 infection, and particularly at those with long COVID, it looks different to what we would expect in healthy individuals. This tells us that there might be something quite unique in the pathophysiology of this disease.”

The study findings are welcome news to covid long-hauler Rick Walters, who contracted COVID in August 2020 and is part of the ADAPT study. Walters continues to have symptoms 17 months later.

“I’m glad that the study has confirmed that long COVID is a valid result of COVID-19 infection and just not something in my head. At first, I thought I would get better, but it became apparent that the damage to my lung was permanent, and I became quite anxious,” he said. “I have had some difficulties adjusting to my current health. COVID should not be taken lightly. I am gradually learning to live with the results.”

“One of the most surprising aspects of our analysis is that people don’t need to have had severe COVID to experience these ongoing immunological changes,” says Dr. Chansavath Phetsouphanh, a senior research associate at the Kirby Institute. “We found that there is a significant and sustained inflammation that indicates prolonged activation of the immune system response detectable for at least eight months following initial infection.”

Researchers hope that a better understanding of how the immune system reacts to the virus will lead to better treatment and management of long covid. There is no data yet to reflect whether variants like Omicron also cause long covid.

Previous studies of long covid have found similarities with autoimmune conditions such as lupus and myalgic encephalomyelitis, also known as chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS).  

Being fully vaccinated against COVID-19 cuts the risk of developing long covid in half, according to a 2021 study. Researchers at King’s College London looked at data from a mobile app used by millions of people in the UK and found that those who received two doses of the Moderna, Pfizer or AstraZeneca vaccines had significantly lower risk of a “breakthrough” infection that turns into long covid.

Hospitals Face Staff Shortages as Covid Surges

By Lauren Weber, Phil Galewitz and Andy Miller, Kaiser Health News

The Cleveland Clinic in Weston, Florida, on Jan. 11 was treating 80 covid-19 patients — a tenfold increase since late December. Nearly half were admitted for other medical reasons.

The surge driven by the extremely infectious omicron variant helped push the South Florida hospital with 206 licensed beds to 250 patients. The rise in cases came as the hospital struggled with severe staff shortages while nurses and other caregivers were out with covid.

The challenge is finding room to safely treat all the covid patients while keeping staffers and the rest of patients safe, said Dr. Scott Ross, chief medical officer.

“It’s not a PPE issue,” he said, referring to personal protective equipment like masks, “nor an oxygen issue, nor a ventilator issue. It’s a volume issue and making sure we have enough beds and caregivers for patients.”

Nationally, covid cases and hospitalizations are at their highest levels since the pandemic began. Yet, unlike previous covid surges, large portions of the patients with covid are coming to the hospital for other reasons. The infections are exacerbating some medical conditions and making it harder to reduce covid’s spread within hospital walls, especially as patients show up at earlier, more infectious stages of the disease.

Although the omicron variant generally produces milder cases, adding the sheer number of these “incidental” hospitalizations to covid-caused hospitalizations could be a tipping point for a health care system that is reeling as the battle against the pandemic continues. Rising rates of covid in the community also translate to rising rates among hospital staffers, causing them to call out sick in record numbers and further stress an overwhelmed system.

Officials and staff at 13 hospital systems around the country said that caring for infected patients who need other medical services is challenging and sometimes requires different protocols.

Dr. Robert Jansen, chief medical officer at Grady Health System in Atlanta, said the infection rate in his community was unprecedented. Grady Memorial Hospital went from 18 covid patients on Dec. 1 to 259 last week.

Roughly 80% to 90% of those patients either have covid as their primary diagnosis or have a health condition — such as sickle cell disease or heart failure — that has been exacerbated by covid, Jansen said.

Although fewer of their patients have developed pneumonia caused by covid than during the major spikes early last year, Grady’s leaders are grappling with high numbers of health care workers out with covid. At one point last week, Jansen said, 100 nurses and as many as 50 other staff members were out.

In one of New Jersey’s largest hospital systems, Atlantic Health System, where about half the covid patients came in for other reasons, not all of those with incidental covid can be shifted into the covid wards, CEO Brian Gragnolati said. They need specialized services for their other conditions, so hospital staffers take special precautions, such as wearing higher-level PPE when treating covid patients in places like a cardiac wing.

At Miami’s Jackson Memorial Hospital, where about half the covid patients are there primarily for other health reasons, all patients admitted for covid — whether they have symptoms or not — are treated in a part of the hospital reserved for covid patients, said Dr. Hany Atallah, chief medical officer.

Regardless of whether patients are admitted for or with covid, the patients still tax the hospital’s ability to operate, said Dr. Alex Garza, incident commander of the St. Louis Metropolitan Pandemic Task Force, a collaboration of the area’s largest health care systems. He estimated that 80% to 90% of patients in the region’s hospitals are there because of covid.

In Weston, Florida, the Cleveland Clinic is also having a hard time discharging covid patients to nursing homes or rehabilitation facilities because many places aren’t able to handle more covid patients, Ross said. The hospital is also having difficulty sending patients home, out of concern they would put those they live with at risk.

Hospital Infections

All this means there’s a reason that hospitals are telling people to stay away from the ER unless it’s truly an emergency, said Dr. Jeremy Faust, an emergency medicine physician at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston.

The sheer number of patients who are showing up and don’t know they have covid during this surge is frightening, Faust said. As more incidental cases pour into hospitals, they pose a greater risk to staffers and other hospital patients because they are typically at a more contagious stage of the disease — before symptoms begin, Faust said. In previous covid waves, people were being hospitalized in the middle and later phases of the illness.

In Faust’s analysis of federal data, Jan. 7 showed the second-highest number of “hospital onset” covid cases since the pandemic began, behind only an October 2020 outlier, he said. But this data accounts for only people who were in the hospital for 14 days before testing positive for covid, Faust said, so it’s likely an undercount.

A KHN investigative series revealed multiple gaps in government oversight in holding hospitals accountable for high rates of covid patients who didn’t have the diagnosis when they were admitted, including that federal reporting systems don’t publicly note covid caught in individual hospitals.

“People in the hospital are vulnerable for many reasons,” said Dr. Manoj Jain, an infectious disease specialist in Memphis, Tennessee. “All of their existing underlying illnesses with multiple medical conditions — all of that puts them at much greater risk.”

The ER in particular is a potential danger zone amid the current crush of cases, Garza said. He recommended that patients wear high-quality masks, like a KN95, or an N95 respirator. According to The Washington Post, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention is weighing whether to recommend that all Americans upgrade their masks during the omicron surge.

“It’s physics and math,” Garza said. “If you’ve got a lot of people concentrated in one area and a high viral load, the probability of you being exposed to something like that if you’re not wearing adequate protection are much higher.”

If patients can’t tolerate an N95 for an entire day, Faust urges them to wear upgraded masks whenever they come into contact with hospital staffers, visitors or other patients.

Dr. Dallas Holladay, an emergency medicine physician for Oregon’s Samaritan Health Services system, said that because of nursing shortages, more patients are being grouped together in hospital rooms. This raises their infection risk.

Dr. Abraar Karan, an infectious diseases fellow at Stanford, believes all health care workers should be mandated to wear N95s for every patient interaction, not just surgical masks, considering the rise in covid-exposure risk.

But in the absence of higher-quality mask mandates for staffers, he recommended that patients ask that their providers wear an N95.

“Why should we be putting the onus on patients to protect themselves from health care workers when health care workers are not even going to be doing that?” he asked. “It’s so backwards.”

Some hospital workers may not know they are getting sick — and infectious. And even if they do know, in some states, including Rhode Island and California, health care workers who are asymptomatic can be called back to work because of staffing shortages.

Faust would like to see an upgrade of testing capacity for health care workers and other staff members.

At Stanford, regular testing is encouraged, Karan said, and tests are readily available for staffers. But that’s an exception to the rule: Jain said some hospitals have resisted routine staff testing — both for the lab resource drain and the possible results.

“Hospitals don’t want to know,” he said. “We just don’t have the staff.”

Kaiser Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues.

If Covid Vaccines Are So Effective, Why Do I Need a Booster Shot?

By Julie Appleby, Kaiser Health News

The politicization of covid vaccines — and just about everything else having to do with the pandemic — has led to confusion, if not utter fatigue.

And some posts circulating on social media — like this slickly edited piece on YouTube — seem to build on these feelings, attempting to cast doubt on the effectiveness of the vaccines.

The video intersperses comments from White House medical adviser Dr. Anthony Fauci extolling their protectiveness with screenshots of news headlines, starting with those citing 100% effectiveness, then moving through others reporting sharply lower percentages. Set to the rapidly increasing tempo of the orchestral piece “In the Hall of the Mountain King,” the video ends with headlines about drug company profits.

But slowing the video to parse the headlines reveals more complexity. Some are reporting on studies that looked only at infection rates; others, more serious outcomes, including hospitalization and death. Some are about vaccines not offered in the U.S. In short, the video fosters misperceptions by mixing together dissimilar data points and leaving out key details.

Still, one can’t help but wonder what’s really going on with effectiveness — and is any of it a surprise?

If you don’t read any further, know this: No vaccine is 100% effective against any disease. The covid shots are no exception. Effectiveness in preventing infection — defined as a positive test result — appears in some studies to wane sharply the more time that goes by after completing the one- or two-shot regimen.

But on key measures — prevention of serious illness, hospitalization and death — real-world studies from the U.S. and abroad generally show protection weakening slightly, particularly in older or sicker people, but remaining strong overall, even with the rise of the more infectious delta variant of the covid virus.

The bottom line? Getting vaccinated with any of the three vaccines available in the U.S. reduces the chance of getting infected in the first place, and significantly cuts the risk of hospitalization or death if you do contract covid-19. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recently published a study showing fully vaccinated people were more than 10 times less likely to die or be hospitalized than the unvaccinated.

“When it comes to what matters, vaccines hold up really well,” said Dr. Amesh Adalja, an infectious-disease physician and senior scholar at the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security. “They were designed to tame the virus.”

What do “efficacy” and “effectiveness” really mean?

Before a drug or vaccine is greenlighted by federal regulators, it is tested on volunteers randomly assigned to get either the product or a placebo. Then researchers compare how the groups fare. In the case of a vaccine, they look at how well it prevents infection, and whether it protects against serious illness, hospitalization or death. Those clinical trial results are often referred to as efficacy measures.

In the real world, however, a drug or vaccine’s performance is affected by numerous factors, including a much larger population receiving it, some of whom have underlying conditions or socioeconomic circumstances different from those in the clinical trial. That real-world performance measure is called effectiveness.

When authorized for emergency use following clinical trials, both the Pfizer-BioNTech and Moderna two-dose vaccines reported efficacy against symptomatic illness in the mid-90% range. The Johnson & Johnson single-dose shot — which was tested later, when there were more variants — reported overall efficacy in the high 60% range.

So, all three vaccines exceeded the 50% threshold health officials sought as a minimum for efficacy. Keep in mind, also, that the annual influenza vaccine’s real-world effectiveness is often 40% to 50%.

Another point: 95% effectiveness doesn’t mean 95% of vaccinated people will never get infected. What it means is that a fully vaccinated person exposed to the virus faces only 5% of the risk of infection compared with an unvaccinated person.

Have the effectiveness numbers changed?

Yes, decline in effectiveness against infection is seen in some studies. A few have also raised concerns that protection against serious illness may also be diminished, particularly in older people and patients with underlying medical conditions.

Reasons for the decline vary. First, when the vaccines were authorized, much of the U.S. was under tighter pandemic-related stay-at-home rules. Nearly a year later, restrictions — including mask rules — have loosened in many areas. More people are traveling and going into situations they would have avoided a year ago. So, exposure to the virus is higher.

Some studies from the U.S. and abroad show that time elapsed since vaccination also plays a role. The Lancet recently published a study of more than 3.4 million Kaiser Permanente members, both vaccinated and not, reviewing the effectiveness of the Pfizer vaccine. It showed an overall average 73% effectiveness against infection during the six months after inoculations, and an overall 90% effectiveness against hospitalization.

But protection against infection declined from 88% in the month after full vaccination to 47% at five to six months. Time since vaccination played a larger role than any changes in the virus itself, the researchers concluded.

“It shows vaccines are highly effective over time against severe outcomes,” said lead author Sara Tartof, an epidemiologist with the Department of Research and Evaluation for Kaiser Permanente Southern California. “Against infection, it does decline over time, something that is not unexpected. We have boosters for many other vaccines.”

The virus, too, has mutated.

“Along came delta,” said Dr. William Schaffner, a professor of preventive medicine at Vanderbilt University School of Medicine. “Because this virus was so highly contagious, it changed the outcomes slightly.”

And some vaccinated people can fall seriously ill with covid, or even die, especially if they have an underlying medical problem, as was the case with Gen. Colin Powell. He died of covid complications even though he was fully vaccinated — likely because he also had a blood cancer called multiple myeloma, which can lower the body’s response to an invading virus as well as to vaccination.

Why are they recommending booster shots?

Most scientists, researchers and physicians say the vaccines are working remarkably well, especially at preventing serious illness or death. But it’s not unusual to need more than one dose.

Vaccines for shingles and measles both require two shots, while people need to be revaccinated against tetanus every 10 years. Because influenza varies each year, flu shots are annual.

Immune response is often better when vaccines are spaced apart by a few months. But during the rollout of the covid vaccines, so many people were falling ill and dying of covid each day that the Food and Drug Administration and CDC decided not to delay, but to authorize the first and second doses within about a month of each other.

“We learn as we go along,” said Schaffner. “It was always anticipated there might have to be follow-up doses.”

Now, the recommendations call for a second dose for anyone who received a J&J shot at least two months prior. For those who received the two-dose Pfizer or Moderna vaccine, the recommendation is to wait six months after the second dose to get a booster, which is currently recommended for those who are 65 and older; have any of a variety of underlying health conditions; live in congregate settings, such as nursing homes; or have jobs that put them at higher risk. The booster recommendations may expand in the coming months.

Kaiser Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues.

Another Drug Shortage Caused by Covid-19 Has Me Worried

By Victoria Reed, PNN Columnist

I recently read a news article about the Food and Drug Administration issuing an emergency use authorization for Actemra (tocilizumab) for the treatment of hospitalized covid-19 patients. The medication was originally developed as a treatment for rheumatoid arthritis (RA), one of the chronic pain conditions I live with.  

Actemra is a biologic drug that calms down overactive immune systems by blocking the interleukin-6 (IL-6) receptor. Persistent dysregulated expression of the IL-6 receptor is involved in the pathogenesis of RA and other chronic inflammatory and autoimmune diseases. It is believed that this over-activation of the IL-6 receptor is also responsible for the so-called “cytokine storm” that causes severe illness and death in covid-19 patients.

The symptoms of RA are pain, fatigue and swelling in the lining of the joints and other parts of the body, including the heart, lungs and eyes. This inflammation can lead to disability, joint destruction and cause serious damage to the lungs and heart.

I have had long-term success controlling my RA symptoms with Actemra and have been getting the drug by IV infusion monthly for about 8 years. Prior to that, I didn’t have good control with other biologic meds such as Enbrel and Orencia.

When I read that news story, I was initially only mildly concerned about Actemra becoming unavailable. Nevertheless, I contacted my doctor for confirmation that I was still on track for my upcoming monthly infusion. However, she did not and could not confirm that the medication would be available to me. Why?

Actemra has now been hijacked by doctors treating covid-19 patients, and this has created a major shortage. I have been informed that its availability for RA patients is uncertain for the foreseeable future. This is really very upsetting!

Covid-19 patients are using up resources in hospitals across the country. The overwhelming needs of these severely ill patients are causing other patients who need surgery or have treatable illnesses to die from a lack of available resources. Hospitals in hard-hit areas are short on everything -- staff, meds, beds and time. As a result, many chronic pain patients like me are being denied the treatments that we rely on to have functional lives. I must say that this seems patently unfair.

What’s even more disconcerting is that Genentech, Actemra’s manufacturer, can’t say when the shortage will end and expects “additional intermittent periods of stockouts (lack of supply) in the months ahead, especially if the pandemic continues at the current pace.”

RA and lupus patients saw this happen earlier in the pandemic when word got out that Plaquenil (hydroxychloroquine) might help treat covid-19. That medication also became scarce and was inaccessible to patients with autoimmune conditions for a while.  

One thing for sure is we are all very tired of the covid virus and its variants. I understand that doctors and scientists are desperate to find things that work, and they want to save lives. But I rely on Actemra to help relieve my pain and fatigue and keep damaging inflammation down. It is the mainstay of my treatment.  

Due to the Actemra shortage, I may have to consider other medications that might not work as well or just wait out the shortage and hope my disease activity doesn’t become unbearable.  

If the pandemic continues, many more people are going to lose their lives from covid infections. However, all patients deserve an equal chance at receiving the care they need, including chronic pain patients. The pain community is already suffering from opioid hysteria and many of us have to fight to stay on these pain medications. We shouldn’t have to fight for our other meds too! 

RA is a serious, systemic and often misunderstood condition that can shorten a lifespan by many years if not treated aggressively and with the proper medications.  Patients sometimes go through many trials of medications before finding one that relieves symptoms and arrests disease activity.  

I truly hope this shortage is short-lived -- for myself and others like me -- who rely on Actemra to remain functional and productive.  

Victoria Reed lives in Cleveland, Ohio. She suffers from endometriosis, fibromyalgia, degenerative disc disease and rheumatoid arthritis.

The Ever Changing Rules of CRPS

By Cynthia Toussaint, PNN Columnist

Two weeks ago, writhing at a level 10 pain, struggling to position my heating pad just right for a moment of relief, I told God that if it was time to take me, that was okay.

I thought I knew the rules of Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. After nearly four decades of trying to sidestep the burning torture, making every attempt to not poke the bear, I was confident I’d cracked the code enough to ward off any long-term flare. The kind that makes you think about dying.

But a shot of emotionally heightened experience, a jigger of COVID vaccine, and a splash of post-chemo recovery combined to turn the rules on their head. I think.

No question, I needed to see my mom. Due to my bout with aggressive breast cancer, a once-in-a-century pandemic, toxic family members and my mom’s advanced Alzheimer’s, I hadn’t seen her in a year and a half. When COVID loosened and I discovered she’d been placed in a nursing facility, a window of opportunity opened for a possible visit without seeing family members that harm and hurt.

The heavens opened and I got to spend a glorious day with an angel disguised as my mom.

But before that, wheeling up to the facility, my profound dread leapt to the nth degree, fearful that I might be facing a firing squad made up of familial cruelty. That, along with the emotional elation of time together with Mom – loving each other through her scattered cognition – sent waves of arousal through my nervous system, sparking over-the-moon pain as my partner, John, and I made our six-hour return trek to LA.

Over the next days, then weeks, as my pain maintained its grip, I knew in my gut this flare was something altogether new and terrible. But why? As I learned long COVID was inciting cytokine storms of pain and fatigue, and that many of my vaccinated sisters in pain were experiencing epic flares, I postulated that the vaccine (which had already re-erupted chemo side-effects) was probably the secret sauce for my exquisite agony. 

Without a doubt, this is the worst CRPS flare I’ve had in 35 years – and that one from the Reagan 80’s left me using a wheelchair to this day. Imagine my fear of what I might lose this go around. I’ll tell you, it’s soul-shaking.

In the past when I’ve experienced bad flares, my doctors have encouraged me to temporarily go up on gabapentin (Neurontin), a nerve medication I’ve taken for many years with good results. Because I despise taking drugs and never trust the “temporary” part, I’ve always resisted increasing the dose. That is, until now. Truth be told, a month into this flare, it took only a nudge from my doctor to increase my daily gabapentin in-take by 300mgs.

What a mistake. Fair to say, while the increase lowered my pain level by about three points, a HUGE improvement, the side effects were scorched-earth. I was wiped out to the point of being barely functional. This “never-a-napper” was falling asleep mid-day and I would wake with dementia-level disorientation. John had to remind me what day it was, where I lived, and what was happening in our lives.

I also suffered with suicidal ideation, compulsive thoughts, depression, joint pain, constipation, blurry vision and spatial difficulties. I’d traded one hell for another.

On the fourth night, I turned in bed and woke to the room (or was it my head?) spinning. The vertigo alerted me to the fact that if I continued this drug increase, I’d likely fall – and that could be catastrophic.

The next morning, with my doctor’s consent, I went off the extra gabapentin and, in its place, started Alpha Lipoic Acid. I took this supplement during chemo to ward off neuropathy, and it did the trick without side effects. Okay, to be fair, I wasn’t aware that it made my urine smell like burning tires as the chemo drugs masked that little nugget. Sorry, John.

That night, I experienced my worst pain ever, but, again, why? Even more confusing, I woke with honest-to-goodness relief, the last thing I expected. In fact, for the first time in weeks, I didn’t describe my morning swim as torture. As of this writing, the relief is holding, though threatening to return to the “I’m ready to die” level. But now, I have a taste of hope.

Still, I’m exhausted, scared and confused.

This is the essence of CRPS. It can come and go with little apparent cause. It can hide and seek, and its rules of engagement are ever shifting, ever evolving. It’s a devil that pokes its white-hot pitchfork of torture whenever, wherever it feels the urge. It’s crazy-making.

For all this madness, for all the uncertainty about my hell flare, these things I know for sure.

I did the right thing by getting the vaccine. COVID, or one of its variants, would (still might) kill me. I’m also doing my part to end this pandemic.

Chemo saved my life. While I’m betting it’s playing a hand in my current suffering, and will most likely present unknown damage down the line, I would not be alive without it.  

I was right to see my beautiful mother. I don’t know how much time either of us has, as I’m still a few years from “free-and-clear.” For my remaining days, I’ll always recall her reaction upon recognizing me, crying out my name and holding me so very tight. As my wonderful friend, Irene, reminds me, Mom and I have an epic love.  

Mom taught me to love myself, too. And I do. Completely. That love extends unconditionally to my CRPS, as it’s a part of me as much as anything is.

39 years into my dance with this mercurial disease, I doubt I’ll ever get ahead of it as its mystery and misery run too deep. Still, I can love it completely without complete understanding.

Cynthia Toussaint is the founder and spokesperson at For Grace, a non-profit dedicated to bettering the lives of women in pain. She has lived with Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) and 20 co-morbidities for nearly four decades, and became a cancer survivor in 2020. Cynthia is the author of “Battle for Grace: A Memoir of Pain, Redemption and Impossible Love.”