Grinding Gears
April 3, 2022
Nearly a year ago, after almost three months of being sick, I wrote, “It has taken weeks to come to terms that I am a long-hauler.” At the time, I was humbled by the fact I couldn’t make myself be well, in disbelief that there wasn’t (and still isn’t) a clear path to recovery, and having a hard time admitting how sick I was. In hindsight, I don’t think coming to terms with being a long hauler is achievable. Acceptance is not a destination, it’s a process. Each day I work on accepting my gains and deficits, as they are inexplicably tied together. Celebrating each gain is tempered by the spotlight it shines on a newly found “Are you kidding me? I can’t do _____” moment. See videos below of retrying the movements from the neurological exam and retrying sun salutation looking at my hands from yoga class.
Long covid turned my body and brain from an automatic transmission to a manual and I’ve spent fifteen months grinding through every gear. Living with long covid, like learning to drive a stick shift, means I need extra time to figure out how to get going and sometimes, no matter how hard I try, I kill the engine. I talk myself through: Don’t panic, the person behind you can wait, try it again. Okay, start over from the beginning. Nice and easy. Whew! I did it, I got it moving. And just when I think I’ve accomplished my goal, wait, there’s more, now shift into second.
That’s how I feel at least once a day, rethinking how to do something I’ve done a million times. I’m dumbfounded when it happens yet grateful I’m up and trying because a year ago I wasn’t, I was barely moving. I’m grateful my therapists don’t give up on me when I can’t get out of first gear and for their belief that eventually, no matter how long it takes, I will shift into second or even third. I’m grateful for what’s become automatic and for each one of you who has stood by and patiently watched my slowwwww progress to get there. I know it’s hard on you, feeling helpless. I’ve seen your tears. I know I’m loved.
I wish the word “long” was finite, defined, measurable. Instead, it’s ambiguous, up for interpretation. Long covid effects everyone differently. Each time I feel I got the mack daddy version, I hear a worse story. I am thankful I am well enough to plod away at therapy and try new approaches. The mystery solutions haven’t been found yet but I’m staying hopeful for ones that will work.
Thank you for the continued love, light, prayers, and cards you send to pick me up on the tough days. I never imagined in a million years I would need them like I do, for this long, or that something like this could happen to me. But isn’t that what everyone says who has their life turned upside down? And like all who’ve come before me, I too say take all the trips, drink all the drinks, and dance to all the songs. Until I can join you out there again, cheers!
