Nearly three years after SARS-COV2 emerged, we are coming to realize that acute Covid-19 disease is, for many, only the first phase of an ongoing health challenge. For a large percentage of people who have had Covid, fatigue and other symptoms last for months or even years after the initial infection. Officially known as “Post-Acute Sequelae of Covid-19 (PASC)” or “Post-Covid Conditions (PCC),” this constellation of lingering symptoms is commonly known as “Long Covid.”
All Creatures Great and Small: Covid Cats--Quarantine? Let's Do It Again!
Undeniably, Covid 19 left a tidal wave-sized dent on the world. The pandemic greatly affected our daily lives, but some effects we are still discovering. This begs the question: Twenty years from now, what will you remember about your quarantine experience? Among my memories of more family time, higher frustration levels, Zoom visits, masks, off-brand groceries, and less toilet paper will be the sheer exuberance of our cats. Yes, I wrote exuberance. The cats were ecstatic: their human servants were home all day.
Weathering an Avalanche: Reflections On This Pandemic Year
I am writing this on the one-year anniversary of the first case of Covid-19 being diagnosed in Michigan. It is also the one-year anniversary of my mother’s memorial service. It was held here in Ann Arbor, at the church where I serve as a pastor. Her service was live cast on Facebook, a first for our little congregation. Family and friends tuned in from Hawaii, California, South Dakota, Arizona, Texas, Ohio, Maryland, and Florida. It was the first time in my 18 years as a pastor that I fully understood the value of live casting worship, an experience I and many of my colleagues have often considered too personal and intimate…too sacred maybe…for livestreaming on social media. It seemed so…televangelistic.
Covid, Death, and Living in Flow
I just got off the phone with my mom and sisters discussing funeral arrangements for my father. He has COVID and he is dying. For the last days, we have been having zoom calls for several hours with him by the grace and compassion of the Canadian field hospital staff who make an iPad available for us each day. We sing, we read poems, meditations, and prayers, and share everything from our heart that we want him to hear. He is not responding and he is breathing the way dying people do: with big gaps of not breathing followed by a few shallow breaths in a row. We know however, that dying people hear everything being said to them so we don’t shy away from giving him our song and deep communication.