Geek dilettante habitant une belle et grande propriété sur la Côte d’améthyste

  • My wife had long Covid and killed herself. We must help others who are suffering | Nick Güthe

    My wife, Heidi, took her own life after a 13-month battle with long Covid that started as a mostly asymptomatic coronavirus infection. Long Covid took her from one of the healthiest, most vibrant people I’ve ever known to a person so debilitated that she could not bear another day on this planet.

    I came home one day last May to find that she’d decided to end her pain. As our 13-year-old son waited outside for the paramedics, I tried desperately to revive her. I did a good enough job that by the time we got her to the hospital they could restart her heart, but she was brain dead on arrival. The emergency room doctor assumed that she died from depression. When I told him, “She wasn’t depressed, it was long Covid,” he looked at me with bewilderment and asked, “What’s long Covid?”

    Late last night I got a desperate Twitter message from a man whose wife could be the next Heidi. She has long Covid and was threatening to end her life. She had already told their eight-year-old daughter her plan. I called him immediately. Heidi and his wife both suffered from unexplained neurological tremors and internal chest cavity vibrations so bad they lost the ability to sleep.

    (Transmis par @diala.)

    Et donc apparemment, il a été décrété que depuis qu’Omicron est une bonne nouvelle, que c’est une bonne chose de l’attraper, et que les écoles, collèges et lycées sont devenus des lieux où il est statistiquement impossible d’y échapper, vous n’entendrez jamais poser la question de savoir quelle forme pourrait avoir un Covid long après qu’on ait choppé Omicron. Parce qu’on n’est jamais à l’abri d’une bonne surprise.