After a week of family holiday in California with my immediate family, I am about to fly out to Tucson for a six week research stay at the University of Arizona. It seems like a good moment for a new entry in my covid diaries. 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; here; and here.) I am writing these entries roughly a month apart for some time now. I seem to have turned an important corner since August. While I qualify this below (and will also mention some frustrating features about new symptoms), it’s fair to state that I am clearly much better than I have been at any time since I first got sick.
Before I get to that, my mom caught covid back in Amsterdam after managing to avoid it for so long. She is fully vaccinated, but at her age it’s still a bit terrifying. She was suffering greatly during the first few days; and while I was a bit relieved after talking to her yesterday it still sounds very challenging. So spare a few thoughts, prayers, and well wishes for her. Stateside Paxlovid seems to be almost a routine part of covid care (I can’t count the number of people who told me they had been prescribed it even with very modest symptoms), but typically (and somewhat frustratingly to me) not so in Holland.
After a few very quiet and deeply intellectually satisfying weeks at Duke with very structured and a low-key schedule (special shout out to Sunday Dim Sum at Geoff Sayre-McCord and Happy), I allowed myself to step outside of my comfort zone on a number of occasions. To summarize the take-away: the good news is that with judicious use of anti-inflammatories I can survive, even thrive, in social environments including pretty challenging ones. It’s not that I don’t encounter my limits (especially in larger, socially demanding environments), but the fall-out tends to be fairly limited with less cognitive and physical fatigue and almost no headaches, and with recovery periods that tend to be much smoother (better sleep). More on this below.
When I studied in Boston and Chicago, I would frequently meet my dad in New York city (where he had studied). Once, about twenty five years ago, when he was around sixty, as we were walking near his (and his father-in-law’s) old stomping grounds in the garment district, he complained that New York was so loud. It was the first time I felt he was aging. I often think of that moment because I increasingly believe, as I have noted before during these diaries, that a lot of symptoms we commonly associate with aging are really the aftermath of a viral infection. (I would love to study this hypothesis with a historical epidemiologist.)
This past week with our son, I wondered if he saw me as old now. Again, while most of my symptoms have vastly improved (I am really happy), it turns out that physical exercise has become much more difficult. I have a very strange fatigue when I try to exercise or run—it’s as if the brain signals don’t really reach the muscles, and that I have slept very badly. (Oddly I don’t notice the problem in my lungs.) This was not the case previously (after my initial five months of bedridden-ness had ended last year).
Early in the week we went to a NBA game (the Clippers vs Suns) at the Staples Center. And I was amazed that the experience felt like living in a boom-box. The beat and sound (organized by the Clippers/stadium) was unrelenting. (It was nothing like how I remembered the old Boston Garden or Chicago’s United Center.) Because he Clippers were completely outplayed and outclassed by the Suns, the crowd was rather lackluster during the game, and so it could have been worse for me. But much to my surprise, I survived the ordeal and even enjoyed it (especially watching his reactions).
Interestingly enough, I found the NBA game less challenging than a visit to Boston a week earlier, where I attended a retirement reception of my teachers Dan Dennett and George Smith. Ahead of it they had both written me expressing the idea that the other would really appreciate it if I attended. The reception was low key, but the back-ground murmur and the multiple demands on my attention clearly exhausted me—I had to cancel my dinner plans and rest. (It didn’t help that the hotel I had been staying in was next to a construction site and the generators were clearly audible in my room—I ended up measuring >65 decibels!) In light of this, and my experiences at the Chapel Hill philosophy colloquium (I had to call it quits after two talks), I have decided to pull out of larger conferences (the Eastern APA) and to skipp my cousin’s wedding.
One other new symptom is that at various times, and completely unaccountably (so without rhyme or reason), I will wake up with a splitting headache in the middle of the night a few times in a row during the night and a few nights in a row. Because I take melatonin – which is a godsend -- and have a good meditation routine I usually manage to fall back asleep fairly quickly, but sometimes I have to take anti-inflammatories to ease it along.
As an aside: it’s well-known that naproxen is not very good for one’s stomach. But it’s been surprisingly difficult to find papers or data with exact figures for the risks and thresh-holds given my age and other underlying issues. No physician nor pharmacological experts have been able to point me to any informative evidence. So, it’s made me curious what the underlying evidence is that has made it to the textbooks in all countries, especially because I do need to take the anti-inflammatories a few times a week.
Anyway, be that as it may, let me wrap up. Because my social life is so much better I am also much more upbeat. Also,I really enjoyed being with my wife and son. I was much less noise sensitive and generally able to partake in daily banter and activities without it being cognitively painful. As I have noted in these diaries, the way my long covid symptoms manifested made it especially difficult for me to be social with others and for others to be around me. So, saying a temporary goodbye to them knowing that I am now much better at family life again felt very difficult. Okay, so on that wistful note I’ll end this post. I am in a better place and grateful for it.
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