In it for the long-haul

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The disproportionate risks of returning to mandatory in-person learning

For the last several months, the Disability Collective of Osgoode has been raising concerns about the proposed mandatory return to in-person classes during the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, particularly amidst the current Omicron wave. There is widespread agreement that people with disabilities are disproportionately affected by COVID-19 in a variety of ways. For instance, people with disabilities may be more likely to contract COVID-19, may experience more severe symptoms and worse outcomes from COVID-19 infection, and may face reduced access to healthcare and treatments due to closures and hospital strain. There are also growing accounts of individuals becoming newly disabled post-infection due to long-haul COVID-19 symptoms—referred to as “long COVID.”

Given the supposedly mild nature of Omicron, post-secondary institutions, including York and Osgoode, are underappreciating the risks of mandating a return to in-person learning, both to students’ own health and the health of their families (e.g. students with children, students living with elderly relatives, et cetera). As two students who live with chronic illnesses that can develop from COVID-19 infection, we wanted to share our experiences to emphasize the risk that COVID-19 still poses—not only of short-term acute illness, but also of long-term, life-altering disabilities. A return to campus must occur only when it is safe for all students, and cannot be rushed at the expense of disabled students or students who risk developing disabilities. In sharing our stories, we hope to highlight some of the reasons why COVID-19 remains too great of a risk, and why student health and wellbeing must be prioritized over a forced return to in-person learning.

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Ali’s story: To make a long story short, eight years ago I had mono and my life has never been the same since. What is usually a relatively mild, brief infection for most turned into a lifelong chronic illness called myalgic encephalomyelitis (“ME”). It has affected nearly every part of my life. I am only able to be engaged in any activity for about three to four hours at a time before needing to rest, and if I overexert myself, I experience an onslaught of symptoms, including fevers, chills, sore throats, extreme fatigue, headaches, and more. If I continually overexert myself, I risk worsening my baseline and diminishing my already very limited capacity for exertion. Because of this, I have relied on a wheelchair for most of the past five years in order to be able to do basic activities like grocery shopping and attending classes without worsening my condition. I am comparatively lucky, though—while I am limited to living my life on a part-time basis, a recent study found that seventy-five per cent of people with ME are unable to work at all, and twenty-five per cent are housebound or bedbound.

As debilitating a condition as ME is, it is made more so by the challenges patients face in navigating the healthcare system. Until relatively recently, ME was considered by many to be a psychiatric condition rather than a biomedical illness, so there is limited medical research and few available treatment options. Most physicians are not aware of the realities of ME, so diagnosis often takes many years, and many people with ME experience disbelief and judgment about the reality and severity of their illness. 

While it is difficult to confirm given the lack of knowledge about ME, many physicians and medical professionals believe long COVID to be a form of ME. One study found that 58.7 per cent of their participants with long-haul COVID-19 symptoms met the criteria for ME, with the majority of participants experiencing post-exertional malaise and “a reduced capacity to work, be physically active, and function both physically and socially.” Given this potential frequency, it is necessary to take the risk of post-viral conditions like ME seriously when assessing the risk associated with COVID-19. 

Angela’s story: My physical disabilities were present from a very early age, though the diagnosis process took several years due to their relatively rare and complex nature. One of the conditions I have dealt with since childhood is postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, or PoTS for short. Many people develop their PoTS following an infection or illness, while for others like me, PoTS is due to genetic causes. PoTS is a dysregulation of the autonomic nervous system—a system which is meant to control many of the body’s unconscious functions such as heart rate, temperature, and breathing. Thus, this condition can severely impact quality of life and complicate the simplest of tasks. Walking up a flight of stairs or even standing up from my desk can leave me completely out of breath, spike my heart rate well above 150 beats per minute, and can frequently result in a near loss of consciousness. The inability to properly regulate my temperature causes significant pain in my extremities in both cold and hot temperatures, and the constant fatigue and “brain fog” from a lack of proper blood circulation can make it incredibly difficult to concentrate or perform basic tasks. There is no cure for PoTS, and the treatments are limited due to a lack of clinical research on this condition.

Recently, PoTS has become a topic of growing concern as long-haul COVID-19 patients have been observed to develop PoTS post-infection, though the reason behind this is not yet known. It is also not yet known whether people who already have PoTS could experience a worsening of their condition in the long run should they contract COVID-19. This possibility is personally terrifying, as I could not imagine how I would function and fully participate in every aspect of my current life should my current condition worsen. I have also recently spoken to several individuals who developed PoTS from long-haul COVID-19, many of whom shared their experiences of confusion, grief, and frustration due to their sudden, drastic decrease in endurance and ability. 

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We do not share our stories to elicit pity or fear. The majority of people will likely not develop long-term disabilities from COVID-19, and many people with chronic illnesses like PoTS and ME find ways to adapt and self-accommodate to maximize quality of life and participate in society like everyone else. Rather, we want to shed light on the realities of living with chronic post-viral conditions to highlight one of the many reasons why the current return-to-campus plan creates unacceptable risks and remains an unsafe option. We also want to help dispel the myth that a healthy, vaccinated adult who contracts COVID-19 will never deal with anything more than cold or flu-like symptoms for a few days. Even “mild” viruses can have lifelong consequences, and due to the COVID-19 pandemic, a growing number of individuals must now adapt to life with a debilitating, poorly-researched condition. Long COVID is a risk for everyone—young, previously healthy, vaccinated people are experiencing long-term COVID-19 symptoms too. For instance, one study estimated that up to ten per cent of children and young people with COVID-19 may experience lasting symptoms. Accordingly, in addition to the risks to student safety, the return to campus plan poses even greater risks for students living in multi-generational households. As our experiences demonstrate, this is not a risk to take lightly. By forcing students to return to in-person classes on 7 February 2022, the York and Osgoode administrations are increasing the risk that students may contract COVID-19, which, in turn, creates unnecessary short- and long-term health risks for students and their families. We urge the administration to reconsider this plan, and to take the risk of long COVID seriously. 

The COVID-19 pandemic is far from over, and it continues to impact Osgoode students in a variety of ways. While many of us are eager to return to in-person learning as soon as possible, remote access must remain an option until it is truly safe for all students to return to campus. The current return to campus plan neglects the safety of currently disabled students, and fails to account for the significant long-term health risks that remain for both disabled and non-disabled students. Osgoode is known for its supportive, collegial culture, and now more than ever, we need the support of our administration through this unprecedented time to ensure the immediate and long-term safety and wellbeing of all students and faculty.

About the author

Ali Imrie

Staff Writer

Angela Dittrich
By Ali Imrie, Angela Dittrich

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