It's time for another entry in my Covid Diaries. (For my official "covid diaries," see here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; here, here; here; here, here; here; here; here; here; and here.) If you don't want to read the whole post, here is my executive summary: the glass is much fuller than two months ago, while some tricky issues remain.
About a month ago, I wrote that "I can report some modest, good news. Without any evident explanation, I suddenly improved greatly from the start of August onward." Since then I traveled to Durham for a six week visiting stint at Duke University. (I am exactly at the half-way point now.) Packing, travel, and getting oriented in a new place is pretty stressful. Luckily the trip was uneventful, and Kirun Sankaran (a very talented local postdoc) helpfully picked me up at the airport, and organized a stop at a supermarket before dropping me off at my new abode.
Despite the lovely and very organized welcome at the Center for the History of Political Economy, the first week in Durham was pretty challenging due to my jetlag and the really oppressive humidity and heat (as well as some maintenance issues in my rental). I adore warm weather, but dislike having to hide in airconditioned spaces. By the end of the first week I was, in fact, under the weather, and worried that I had overestimated my recovery. I canceled my social schedule, and spend a few days in bed and on the sofa of my rental. By Tuesday I was feeling much better, and able to comment on a fascinating workshop paper by Jennifer Jhun in the Duke philosophy department. Shortly thereafter the humidity disappeared and until Hurricane Ian we've had just lovely, even inspiring. weather.
As the hurricane arrived on campus -- classes got canceled -- I workshopped a chapter of my Foucault/liberal art of government book in progress in the HOPE Center, and then enjoyed a festive reception and a joyous dinner (in the otherwise deserted campus center). Ian was a serious storm, but not frightening in my location. While I was in bed relatively early, no amount of meditation helped my excited brain relax. I went over the day countless times, and had to pinch myself I had been in a professional academic environment focused on my work. I had a restless sleep, and the next day I just chilled--with the storm raging there were no other options anyway. The dreaded headache did not materialize, but I felt very fatigued.
So, looking back at my first three weeks here: I have had some intense and very good conversations, socialized a few times (a Dim Sum, a BBQ dinner, some lunches and coffee, etc.), and even engaged in non trivial academic work. All of that is very encouraging. The anti-inflammatory meds I use are excellent in preventing and treating headaches and other long covid related symptoms. And I have become more willing to experiment with social interactions without taking meds altogether. And while I still struggle in environments with other social stimuli, it's much improved from where I was.
Having said that, I have woken up with random (but sadly familiar) headaches in the middle of the night a few times, and I do bump into my limitations at odd moments. I am currently struggling greatly in my morning work outs, and I need to take more regular breaks while writing/researching.
I have my own cubicle in the library (sadly without windows), and access to the open stacks. It's bewildering that I have more shelve-space for books in the cubicle at a place I am visiting than at my shared office at my home university. I was completely blown away when, during my first day at the HOPE center, the economics department's tech support came by to set me up with local printing (etc.). (I was happy I had brought extra Harrods ginger biscuits from London so I could express my gratitude spontaneously.)
As an aside, in fact, while I have spent a good chunk of the first few years of my academic life employed at rather wealthy, private US universities (and have visited countless times since), the contrast between life at Duke with my current work conditions at a massive Dutch state university hit me hard. While I may publish in similar outlets as the locals, what one may call the 'phenomenological-geography of our daily academic lives' (e.g., class size, office space, technical support, length of academic year, etc.) is incomprehensibly different. For example, in order to visit here I had to take unpaid leave (and cash in overtime hours) because it will be a while before I am eligible for the very new sabbatical arrangement my department finally instituted. Odds are I will never be eligible for it. (Don't ask, but it's basically a money/funding issue.)
Anyway, I spent mornings writing, and if I socialize at all this starts after lunch. I mostly read secondary literature in the afternoon. I miss my family intensely, but I very much appreciate the lack of responsibilities to others and the general quiet of my life. This week, I have set aside to get on top of some professional obligations to others (letters of recommendation, reviews, revise and resubmits with other authors). All and all, I feel pretty blessed. (And I welcome suggestions for more opportunities to be on paid leave!)
Okay, I should wrap up. Technically speaking I am not on disability anymore since the first of September. But I am obviously relieved I don't have to teach full time this Fall, especially because of the many small cognitive (weird memory issues and odd moments of head fatigue) and physical issues I still encounter. And while I teach a huge lecture course in the spring, It's under seven weeks. So, the real test of my cognitive stamina will occur only a year from now (at the start of next academic year). I am tentatively scheduling academic commitments (talks, workshops) along the way. Because I love undergraduate teaching, I am more optimistic than I have been in close to two years that it's not unreasonable to expect I will be able to return to things I adore about my profession on a regular basis. I am even hopeful I will be able to socialize with friends and family more normally again. So, there, the glass is filling up with the nectar of life; I said it.
glad you're finding some relief and recovery, interesting piece by Slobodian
https://drive.google.com/file/d/16urxtFjpqsxWsQPPehCsbEzJKfbKkCwa/view
Posted by: dmf | 10/04/2022 at 04:25 PM