Don’t Worry About a Thing
A woman I worked with years ago once asked me if I have malaria. Her name was Sylvia. She was from Central America and was also a student in my English as a second language class. I figured she had mixed up the verb tense, so I corrected her. “I had malaria ten years ago,” I said. “I don’t have it now.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “When you get sick with malaria, you are sick forever.”
This was something I had never considered. I stared at her with my mouth open.
“My dad and my brother were bitten by infected mosquitos and have been sick a very long time. My brother cannot work. He has never worked. My dad is like you. He is very skinny. He is always so tired.” She tugged on the sleeve of my sweater. “And he is always cold like you.”
“But it’s freezing in here,” I said.
“No, Beth. Only you are freezing.” She stood back with her arms out to make a point. She wore a sleeveless dress as did two other women who worked in the office. It was July in southeast Arizona where it was 95 degrees outside. I was the only one wearing pants with shoes and socks. My cardigan covered most of the long-sleeved blouse I wore under it.
She smiled. “So, now you understand why I say you have malaria.”
I always suspected my health issues were symptoms of malaria, but because it was all but eradicated from the U.S. by the 1950’s, most doctors are unfamiliar with the disease and certainly not aware of any long-lasting health issues. I have told every doctor I’ve met that I had malaria. And most conversations go something like this:
“Believe me, your symptoms are not caused by malaria.”
“That’s great news. So, you know something about malaria?” I ask.
“I don’t know much about it, but you had it a long time ago. Whatever it is you have right now, I’m quite certain it wasn’t caused by malaria.”
My husband recently shared a news article with me in which cases of locally acquired malaria have popped up in Florida and Texas. Locally acquired malaria is an important distinction. Like me, most folks who have malaria traveled somewhere out of the country and brought the parasite home with them as stowaways in their blood. Locally acquired malaria means that infected mosquitos are being found right here on American soil where environmental changes are creating breeding grounds for both the Plasmodium parasite and the female mosquito it infects, which in turn is transferred to a human when bitten.
As someone who has lived half my life with chronic health issues that began after I contracted malaria, I understand the concern the health care system and monitoring organizations like the Center for Disease Control (CDC) and World Health Organization (WHO) are faced with if we are in danger of an upsurge of malaria cases in the US. If my story is any indication of what we could be faced with, the economic and health implications are far reaching.
But there is hope. The lessons we’ve learned about COVID-19, and the work being done to address long COVID have created a seismic shift in medicine. And for the better. For the first time since getting sick with malaria and the tricky symptoms that followed, I am being heard and seen as an expert on the topics of my mind and body.
Long gone is the imposing authority figure in a white lab coat talking at me, doling out his expert opinions, medications, and diagnoses. COVID-19 taught us that perhaps we never fully recover from viruses, bacteria, and diseases brought on by parasites. That there are plenty of hiding places in our bodies where these tiny invaders may linger for decades before attacking our systems. And like the antibiotic-resistant bacteria frozen in suspended animation for millennia in places like Antarctica that are waking up because of melting polar ice caps, we don’t understand—yet, how we may be affected.
Jemma, 8-months old. Looking for a warm lap to sit on.
I’ve been thinking a lot about adaptability lately as I slowly introduce outside cats into our family, and as I witness the zucchini and melons in my garden seek shade from the punishing heat that has been our summer. As a species, we are adaptable creatures. It is one of the qualities that gives us complete authority on this planet. But bugs and viruses are proving to be equally adaptable. Once inside, the feral cats will not leave the house where they are well fed, cool, and safe from predators. They have also learned that by behaving like house cats, there are plenty of treats to be had. They are adapting to life inside where it is much safer than life on the streets. If my zucchini plants could walk, they would choose another garden to live in, but stuck as they are, they are adapting by seeking refuge in the shade of the 7-foot ivy that grows along our fence line.
I have friends and have heard stories of people, mainly women, who are currently adapting to living with chronic illness; most recently, like me, long COVID. Smart, accomplished women who have left their medical practices, teaching jobs, studios, and small businesses because the physical and mental demands are too great. Women who now need to worry about health insurance and raising children when just getting out of bed proves to be too much. And as Sylvia pointed out years ago, we all have something that is getting in the way of us being our best, productive selves.
Katie, 8-months old. Loves having her ears rubbed.
It takes a cat about three weeks to adapt to our home life. The zucchini and watermelon seem to adjust with the movement of the sun. For humans with chronic illness, it’s a bit more complicated as we find ourselves adapting our plans, schedules, and responsibilities in the wake of our symptoms. Today was tough. I’m too exhausted and sore from inflammation to do much of anything outside my “need to do” list. The cats are waiting for me to play laser light, and I have final papers to grade. But these things will have to wait.
Sneakers, 8-months old. A bit of a flirt.
Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds plays in the background as I preheat the oven for a frozen pizza. Don’t worry about a thing/ ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright.
And I sing along, “Every little thing gonna be alright.”
Side note: All cats are spayed and neutered and are ready for adoption. They are free to loving folks looking for indoor kitties. Please contact me if interested. Zucchini is also available as soon as it comes in…
