The virus that came to stay

With current funding for our Covid response drawing to a close, there’s growing recognition that many people are suffering debilitating long-term effects. What’s the next move?

- NICKY PELLEGRINO

Nadene Ghouri has had COVID-19 four times and doesn't want to catch it again. Her first encounter with the virus was in the early days of the pandemic while living in the UK, and it left her struggling with the post-viral effects of long Covid.

"Basically, I lost a year of my life," she recalls. "I couldn't walk down the street without being out of breath. My son, Gilbert, was still a baby and I'd have to call my husband at work and get him to come home because I couldn't even pick him up - that's how weak I was."

She was still based in the UK when she succumbed a second time and had the classic symptoms of fever, fatigue, shakes and aches. By her third bout, the family had moved to New Zealand and she managed to get a doctor to prescribe antiviral medication, which helped. Unfortunately, working in a busy open-plan office, the Auckland-based journalist couldn't avoid catching Covid-19 a fourth time. She is now convinced that she is prone to reinfection, so when her husband tested positive just before Christmas, she isolated him in a bedroom.

"If he had to come out to use the bathroom or kitchen, he wore a mask and sanitised after himself," says Ghouri. "Thankfully, I managed not to catch it."

Although she no longer has those more debilitating long Covid symptoms, the virus has had a lasting impact in other ways.

"It's changed my life and I think those changes will be permanent," says Ghouri. "Just the thought of getting Covid again is really scary. Because I feel like I've got this target on my back, I try to avoid crowded and enclosed spaces. And I find it hard not to get angry when I have conversations with people who don't take Covid seriously. Even now, if I over-exert myself or get very tired, I'll feel my heart fluttering and get dizzy, then have to lie down."