The Waiting Game

People that I see or interact with on a regular basis stopped reacting with versions of “you still don’t feel well!” about four or five months ago. People that I interact with less frequently are currently experiencing that reaction. I was fortunate enough to know someone who had Long COVID before I developed it. As a result, I came into the experience with my eyes wide open that this was going to be a waiting game.

The waiting started with the diagnosis. Some sources say people qualify for the diagnosis of Long COVID if they are still ill after 4 weeks. The medical professionals I am working with believe that there is a third version of COVID that lasts between 4 weeks and 3 months. Therefore, I was not put into the category of Long COVID until I had been ill for at least 3 months.

By then, I was resigned to waiting it out.

It is frustrating waiting for your body to catch up to what you envision for yourself. I am both angry and grateful that this is a familiar space for me. After three foot injuries, a severe case of appendicitis, regular migraines, and unknown numbers of severe colds and flus, I am very familiar with needing to wait for my body to heal so that I can resume dancing, walking, socializing, working, researching, etc.

There are also all those months of waiting out the quarantine, the years I spent waiting for the inevitable move when Dad got his job, and the years I spent waiting to be old enough for my life to start.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

I am sick of waiting. And I am very adept at it.

How long will I be waiting this time?

For my first stress fracture, I was told I would be in the boot for about 6 weeks. Six weeks is a manageable time to wait. But at each follow-up, the doctor told me to keep the boot on for a while longer. After 3 months, I was released from the boot, but after completing physical therapy, it re-fractured and I ended up in the boot for another 2-3 months.

When my appendix burst, I was told I would go home the day of the surgery and be back to work in a day or two. After 9 days in the hospital and three more weeks at home, I got so bored that I went back to work probably a week or two before my body was truly ready.

In January 2024, at the Long COVID clinic, my symptoms were mild enough that based on similar cases it was anticipated that I’d be back to normal within 6 to 12 months. After I had a severe setback in April and May, 6 months was clearly out the window and even 12 months was called into question.

I’ve had several amazingly good days recently, but I had some really good days at the end of March and beginning of April where I started planning my next trip and envisioned a return to urban traipsing. The trend line remains upward bound, but I’ve learned my lesson that it doesn’t necessarily mean that my normal will return soon.

Until that time, I wait – unsure what to do with the hope that blooms every good day. The hope that maybe, just maybe, by month 12 my life will be back to normal.

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Feature image courtesy: Waiting by Ghozy Muhtarom from Noun Project (CC BY 3.0)