Post-Covid and the new everyday heroes
Three years into the pandemic, my heart and vascular health are no longer the only limits. A coronary angiogram showed my arterioles letting through less blood than normal, and peripheral resistance in the heart’s vascular tree was high. I’ve had to reinvent my life around what my body can manage now, while still trying to stay active.
On Tuesdays I join a group of former power runners turned walking football players: pensioners, friends, and me. Lisbeth, 87, has swapped long-distance running for the company of players who keep the game social and safe, and we share jokes as we chase the ball. Bengt, 78, and I both carry angina and try to be defenders rather than bystanders. Bo, 68, has trained in heart-lung resuscitation through civil defense so he could help us if a crisis hits. These two—and the rest of the crew—are my new sport mates. After the match we sit, sip coffee, and exchange stories in a way that football broadcasters have never chosen to film. It’s a simple ritual that matters, even if it rarely makes headlines.
What the body is telling me
Beyond the field, I find myself thinking about aging and mortality. Not with panic, but with clear, dry assessment. I don’t describe myself as depressed; it’s more that the body protests more than it used to. A swollen MCP joint here, a persistent dry cough there, chronic nasal sores, teeth that crack, and a general slowness that makes it hard to keep a thought in line. The last four years have seen a rise in Hb, as if I’m living at altitude. In spring 2025 I underwent overseas tests for microprothrombi—tiny clots that some post-COVID patients show. These clots are visible in plasma and seem to correspond to the reduced peripheral circulation I feel in heart and lungs. There are others far sicker, who cannot walk or even enjoy coffee, and without any revealing tests yet.
Science, AI and the search for answers
On the drive home from the gym, I wonder why many Swedes still think the pandemic is over and that post-COVID is fuzzy at best. There are thousands of articles and millions of words, yet it’s hard to keep up. I ask an AI model, “What causes post-Covid?” The response outlines ideas that are increasingly supported by evidence: lingering immune activation and inflammation, residual virus particles that keep triggering responses, autonomic dysfunction (like POTS), autoimmunity, and organ damage from the original infection. The reply aligns with many studies and statements from international health authorities, which is a reminder that the science is evolving but not arbitrary.
“Can we prevent post-COVID?” the AI continues. Vaccination and early antiviral treatment—Paxlovid among them—can reduce the risk of long-lasting symptoms when given early. It’s reassuring to hear, even if the reality on the ground remains uneven. Prevention is a powerful tool, but it has not reached everyone, and many regions lean on lifestyle advice and ongoing research to treat chronic symptoms.
Living with the system
In some regions, post-COVID care centers emphasize lifestyle changes as a primary tool. It’s affordable and sensible, yet healthcare budgets are strained, and curiosity can be crowded out by busy clinics. In others, doctors recruit patients into studies of cognitive-behavioral therapy, suggesting it may help some people feel better. Some online voices label post-COVID as functional or psychosomatic, echoing older trends to explain the unknown with psychology—an approach that can feel dismissive to patients who are genuinely ill. The AI’s synthesis, echoed by WHO, CDC, and NIH, asserts that post-COVID has a biological basis, not a purely functional syndrome. Still, translating that into care is a different challenge, and one that requires patience, resources, and empathy.
A future that includes all of us
My life—an active one—depends on recognizing a real, lasting disease that affects a portion of the population. PEM, or post-exertional malaise, shows when even a modest effort triggers days of fatigue. Yet movement remains essential; the body often needs careful pacing and understanding rather than denial. The solidarity I feel with Lisbeth and the others should translate into better, more credible care and research. If we ignore the long tail of the pandemic, we miss the chance to learn for the future. We deserve a health system and a society that respects the experiences of those living with long COVID and aging bodies, not a chorus that pretends the issue has vanished.
To sum up
Post-Covid is not an abstract menace; it is a lived reality for many, shaping daily routines, social circles, and medical care. By sharing our stories, we hope to push for recognition, respectful treatment, and real solutions that help people like me stay active, connected, and hopeful.
