Assumptions Can Mislead Us About Long Covid

We make assumptions about many aspects of our lives, including about the motivations of others when they do something that has an adverse effect on us – but more often than not our assumptions are wrong.  In this era of Long Covid, it is easy to assume that we suffer from this condition, particularly if we are experiencing multiple symptoms that persist months after a Covid infection.  The Mayo Clinic, for instance, identifies a wide range of symptoms that could be attributed to Long Covid.   They suggest that seeing a medical practitioner in the first instance is important to ensure that we eliminate other possible explanations of our symptoms. They also provide suggestions about what information to record about our symptoms before we visit the medical practitioner.

I have been experiencing peripheral neuropathy (pain in my ankles and numbness in my feet) for some time after an earlier Covid infection. When I listened to Gez Medinger, co-author of the Long Covid Handbook, during the Long Haul & CFS Summit, I began to attribute all my symptoms to Long Covid.  Gez had outlined a range of Long Covid symptoms that aligned with what I was experiencing.  However, having done more research about peripheral neuropathy, especially listening to the video podcast of Dr. Shanna Patterson, a leading neurologist, I was keen to explore my symptoms further.  Shanna explained that there were potentially multiple causes for neuropathy, including structural issues.

Investigating peripheral neuropathy – an on-going symptom

I undertook an X-Ray through a referral by my medical practitioner and discovered that I did have a structural problem in my lumbar spine – degeneration of several discs and potential spinal stenosis.  The structural problems in my spine more likely began at age 12 when I was involved in a serious car accident (before seat belts were available) – our family car rolled multiple times after being hit in the side by another car and then went over a 3 metre embankment, landing on its hood.

From what I have read, tennis (especially the service action) can aggravate spinal injuries.  This was made patently obvious to me in 1997 when a disc in my lower back collapsed, leaving me with severe sciatica for 18 months (finally rectified through multiple natural health modalities such as osteopathy, physiotherapy and hydrotherapy).  I was able to resume playing tennis after these lengthy treatments once I adopted some modifications to my tennis game (especially my serve).

However, now the wear and tear on my spine is so severe that I am unlikely to be able to play tennis again without causing further irreparable damage.  Despite this loss of my favourite sport, I am grateful that I took my doctor’s advice and that of experts like Shanna, and investigated my peripheral neuropathy, rather than just assuming these particular symptoms were caused by nerve damage as a result of Long Covid (even though this could be a contributor).

Reflection

I have not fully comprehended what it means for me to give up playing tennis which has been so much a part of my life for over 60 years.  Tennis has been my escape from the pressures of daily life and a means of developing mindfulness and the associated competencies of paying attention, being in the present moment and visualisation.  Tennis has been a catalyst for savouring my competence and accomplishments. It has also facilitated reflection on my blind spots and managing mistakes.

To manage this current challenge to “letting go” of my self-image as a fit and competent tennis player, I will have to turn to my mindfulness practice.  As Frank Ostaseski reminds us in his book, The Five Invitations, that in the face of loss and grief, we have to let go of the identities that we have become attached to.  He emphasises the preciousness of life and the impermanence of everything.

As I grow in mindfulness through my daily practices, I hope to readily accept the loss of my capacity to play tennis, let go of my related identity, redefine who I am, accept the impermanence of everything and learn to savour the preciousness of life.

Alexia Chellun in her song Surrender also encourages us to “let go” and surrender our fear while opening up to harmony and our higher being.

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Image by Aritha from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site, the associated Meetup group, and the resources to support the blog.

The Impermanence of Everything and the Preciousness of Life

In Part 1 of his book, The Five Invitations, Frank Ostaseski discusses his first invitation and principle for living, “Don’t Wait”.  Frank, as founder of a hospice and end-of-life carer, has cared for more than a thousand patients during their dying process and death.  In this first part of his book, he highlights the impermanence of everything and the preciousness of each moment of living.   

Frank has been a companion to the deepest grief of friends and relatives of the dying and experienced a depth of vicarious grief that is difficult to conceive – it’s as if the collective grief of others had beset him and brought him to his knees, both physically and metaphorically.  Fortuitously, he was a colleague and friend of Elizabeth Kübler-Ross at the time who supported him in his grief and his work as an end-of-life carer.  Elizabeth developed the classic concept of the five stages of dealing with death and loss in her book On Death and Dying and was also the author of Grief and Grieving: Finding the Meaning of Grief Through the Five Stages of Loss.

The impermanence of everything

If nothing else, the Coronavirus reinforces the impermanence of everything through its pervasive impact on every facet of our daily lives – our home, work location, transportation, schooling and education, shopping, spending, entertainment, health, finances, sport and our very daily interactions and movements.  The on-off nature and varying intensity of imposed restrictions serve to reinforce this message of the changeability of everything.  In these challenging times, we are called to adapt to the unpredictability of our work, our changing home arrangements, the extreme challenge to our health and welfare, and the uncertainty of our income and overall finances.

Without the pandemic, we can still become aware of impermanence – the birth and death cycle for humans, animals and nature.   Relationships end, animals are killed and eaten by other animals in the endless pursuit of food and survival and leaves fall off trees to become life-giving compost for new plant growth.  

The impermanence of everything was brought home to me by two recent incidents.  The first was the disturbing story of a nurse killed suddenly in our city while cycling to work.  Her husband indicated that their day started as normal with a coffee and breakfast together but ended tragically when the nurse was only metres away from her work at the hospital.

The second experience of impermanence occurred when I was walking along the foreshore of Moreton Bay near our home.  I was watching the small fish full of life darting back and forth in the marina when a fast-moving bird dived into the water and retrieved one of the fish for its food – only to be followed by other birds dive-bombing the school of little fish. 

The preciousness of life

Frank describes the process of dying as a “stripping away” of everything including our sense of “self” – our sense of who we think we are and should be, all our roles such as husband/wife, partner, parent, neighbour.  We lose our professional identity, our personal orientation, e.g. as a “people person” and our comparative self-assessment such as well-off or impoverished and successful or an abject failure.  Frank reinforces his view of the inadequacy of the medical model to explain the breadth and depth of the “stripping away” at death.  He maintains that in dying everything is released/dissolved – “the gross physical elements of the body, thoughts, perceptions, feelings, conditioning all dissolving”.  Frank asserts that what is left to discover is “something more elemental and connective” that constitutes the real essence of human nature.

Our awareness of impermanence, accentuated by illness, can lead to anxiety or a readiness to appreciate and savour the preciousness of life, of our relationships and of nature.   Through appreciating the pervasiveness of impermanence, we can more readily accept change and more willingly give up our attachments – the things that we hold onto to define our self and our worth.   This is where meditation can help us both in fully living and preparing for dying and death.

The “Don’t Wait” principle reminds us of the certainty of death and the uncertainty of the timing of our death – that it will happen, but we don’t know when or how.  This principle encourages us to value every moment we are alive and to savour what we have in life and the experiences of living.  Frank’s heart attack reinforced this message for him – his sense of self and perception of himself as the “strong one” helping everyone else in need was completely undone.  He encourages us to be curious about ourselves and our preferences/attitudes/ biases and to work at letting go of the identities that we have become attached to.

 Frank maintains that “softening around these identities, we will feel less constraint, more immediacy and presence”.  I am learning the profound truth of this statement through softening my identification with being a “good” tennis player who never or rarely makes mistakes.  Instead of wallowing in negative self-evaluation, I am beginning to enjoy the freedom of progressively loosening this unsustainable identification as I grow older and less physically able.

Reflection

Frank’s book would have to be the easiest and most-engrossing personal development book I have had the privilege to read, and, at the same time, the most profound.  As someone who has had a deep interest in, and knowledge of, his subject, he can communicate his ideas in simple language and practical illustrations.  Each paragraph contains exquisite morsels of wisdom and the book is replete with moving but brief stories that impress indelibly – so, even if you don’t remember the exact wording of his principles, you certainly remember the stories that illustrate them.  Frank’s writing reflects the calmness, humility and depth of insight and wisdom that is evident in his many conversations and podcast interviews about the process of dying and “The Five Invitations”.

“Don’t Wait” is a challenging principle but Coronavirus has forced us to stop, reassess and protect ourselves and others.  It has been the catalyst for incredible acts of courage and kindness – by our health professionals and people from all walks of life.  The Pandemic Kindness group on Facebook©, with over half a million members, is but one of many efforts to encourage and support random acts of kindness in these challenging times.

The “Don’t Wait” principle incorporates many invitations to create change in our lives.  As we grow in mindfulness through meditation and reflection, we can become increasingly aware of our attachments (including to harmful self-narratives) and progressively develop the discipline and self-regulation to create real change in our lives to live with more appreciation, thoughtfulness, kindness and compassion.  We can learn to savour every moment of our life and everything that it entails.

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Image by christels from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site, the associated Meetup group and the resources to support the blog.