The first question friends and colleagues typically ask me when I tell them I have long COVID is “what can I do to help?” As long COVID is primarily a waiting game, it is hard to know how to answer that question. In addition, I am well aware that I bring a severe handicap to offers of help.
I grew up in an environment where independence was rewarded and needing help was discouraged. From my perspective, my older brother’s behavior was typically held up as the example of the right behavior. Two notable exceptions that entered our family’s lore were times when I exhibited strongly independent behavior.
The first was one afternoon when I was three years old. As we were getting ready to go out as a family, my brother insisted that he needed help putting on his shoes. In the meantime, I had changed my outfit from head to toe all by myself at least three times that day.
A year or two later, my grandparents invited my brother and I for a visit without our parents. I immediately accepted, while my brother declined. For years, this choice was held up as an example of my valued independence.
As an adult, I know that it is okay to ask for help, but my first instinct is to figure out how to handle whatever the situation is on my own.
When I got my first stress fracture (in my foot), I asked the first orthopedic doctor if I would need to change my routines. I explained that once a week I walked half a mile to the grocery store, purchased two full bags of groceries, and walked back. Her response was that as long as I wore the boot, I could continue to do that. As she gave me the go ahead to continue almost as normal, I did not ask for help. However, based on the feedback from the second orthopedic when my foot refractured, continuing as normal was probably the primary contributing factor for the reinjury. (Oddly, as I write this I realize that I have no memory of how I got my groceries when I resumed wearing the boot. I must have gotten help as I took the admonitions of the second orthopedic very much to heart.)
Now, several years later, I like to think that I am more open to asking for and accepting help. However, other changes have made it even easier for me to not ask for help. Delivery is available from most grocery stores, restaurant delivery is very robust, and meal delivery services provide another option for easy meals. And, fortunately, I returned to apartment living about a year before developing long COVID at a location where there is maintenance staff who manage lawn mowing and snow removal.
Despite this, I have asked for and accepted help with getting food from places that don’t deliver, rides for medical appointments that require a driver, and company with low-key social activities. Though sometimes it still feels uncomfortable to accept help, it is a relief to not have to do everything myself.
Feature image credit: help by Adrien Coquet from Noun Project (CC BY 3.0)
Carolyn Ristau 
2 thoughts on “Accepting Help”