End of Summer, Long Covid Diaries Style

It’s been about seven weeks since my last covid update. (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; here; here; here; here; here; here; here; and here.) Last time I wrote I had clearly regressed since early April.

In early July I started taking beta blockers. These had been recommended to me a few years ago when my long covid induced migraine was first diagnosed. But I had been keener to try out Botox injections instead. By the end of Spring I had come to the conclusion that these were making no material impact (anymore). Beta Blockers had come back into the picture due to some relatively minor, albeit weird neurological symptoms: tremors and a unusual dystonia in my index fingers and thumbs on both sides. (They don’t seem to be early evidence of Parkinson’s.) The neurologist convinced me that beta blockers were worth trying and had relatively minor side effects.

So, we went on holiday, and I started taking the beta blockers after we were settled in. The first few weeks were miserable. The beta blockers clearly made me very fatigued with even modest exercise. And they didn’t seem very effective against the migraines because the holiday environment made these much worse. We were staying in a very nice, low key hotel with easy access to the beach so our son could kite-surf in a low key town. But all the buffet-style meals exhausted me, and I could not handle even modest social environments. In fact, the beta blockers induced fatigue remained nearly constant for close to a month, and the regress since early April had not been turned around. I pulled out of a number of academic events.

At this point you may wonder why I kept taking them. First, the anti-migraine effects of beta blockers usually take a few months to kick in. Second, the neurological symptoms disappeared with a day or two! (It was quite noticeable even.) In addition, during the last few years I had a weird cramp in my feet when lying down (say to go to bed). I don’t think I have mentioned it before. It’s one of those odd things that have happened to my body since covid. The neurologist thought that was probably muscular and unrelated to my other symptoms. But those cramps also disappeared nearly at once! So, relaxing and falling asleep when I go to bed has become much easier (because I am not twisting and turning to find a way to avoid cramp).

During most of July, I was tempted to reduce the dosage of the beta blockers so as to reduce the fatigue. However, before I could do so at the end of June I started to notice less fatigue. I took our very tall and athletic son to Olympic basketball in Lille and a day of sight seeing. I assumed I would survive the two days by loading up on my anti-inflammatories (naproxen/a NSAID). But I never took any. Despite the noise, crowd, and travel I came back feeling much better than I had felt for most of July. At my scheduled subsequent meeting with my GP, we decided not to reduce the dosage.

I am glad I did because since then I have been clearly improving. During the last month, my better half and myself went to a number of concerts (including my first proms) and just fun dates in town. During this period, I have had only one episode of migraine. This was much milder than I am used to and phenomologically very different: I would describe it as a migraine on sedatives. I couldn’t shake it off with any of my usual techniques (meditation, sleep, rest), but for about 30hrs I was functional, yet clearly with a migraine. I eventually took a naproxen, which was the only one this past month. (To compare: when I decided to try out the betta blockers I as averaging at least two episodes of migraine a week.)

During the last few days, I attended a lovely event, “New Narratives and Methods in the History of 20^th century Philosophy,” in Tilburg University (here’s the conference program). I fully participated in all the sessions, and even for most of the socializing. The conference organizers (Sander Verhaegh, Fons de Wulf, and Ties van Gemert) did a nice job keeping it simple and mellow. I had fun meeting old friends and also putting faces to some of the footnotes. It was especially enjoyable because there was a contingent of former students from my Ghent period, who are now thriving in the profession. They also regaled others with anecdotes about my classroom antics and public debates. I had no episodes of cognitive fatigue or migraine. I did notice both nights that I found getting my mind to unwind after the day and fall asleep quite difficult (which since covid I have been struggling with for three years now after any socializing).

So, where are we? I feel very confident again that I can function normally in academic environments (where people take turns speaking). I don’t think that until I had long covid I began to realize how structured academic conversation at conferences and in the classroom is. Even academic socializing involves mostly people taking turns trying out ideas or responding to them. (I should check Latour whether an ethnographer of science has noticed this.) And for the first time in a few months, I am optimistic again that I can be in quite ordinary social contexts without setting off possible migraines. I still keep an eye out on my daily schedule (ensuring sufficient breaks between social activities) and broader social environment. But it’s not stress inducing at the moment.

Right now, I am quite busy due to a major grant deadline. Next week I go to DC to present a paper “Democracy as a Competitive Discovery Process” that I have co-authored with Nick Cowen and Aris Tranditis in the Workshop in Philosophy, Politics, and Economics thanks to a kind invite from Pete Boettke. And after that the start of a new academic year, again, with a class on Utopian/Dystopian thought. This year I’ll kick it off with More’s Utopia—as the Americans would say, how blessed I am.