I was an executive chef and director of operations at one of Tampa’s premier catering companies when I contracted the Delta variant of COVID-19 in August 2021. After two weeks of battling illness at home, my condition worsened to the point where I could no longer breathe, prompting my partner to call an ambulance.
Upon arrival at the hospital, I was intubated and placed on a ventilator within 24 hours. Shortly after, I was put into a medically induced coma to allow my body to heal. The doctors were uncertain I would wake up and advised my family to prepare for the worst.
When I finally awoke, I was paralyzed from the neck down, likely due to COVID-induced Guillain-Barré syndrome. I faced the daunting challenge of relearning basic functions through physical and occupational therapy—talking, walking, feeding myself, and even putting on socks.
Four months later, I was released from the hospital in a wheelchair, unsure of my recovery journey. Just four weeks after my discharge, I was diagnosed with Long COVID. While some symptoms improved, others intensified.
Today, I live with Long COVID, Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS), Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA), and suspected Fibromyalgia. I was disabled by COVID.
I can only stand for about 3 to 5 minutes at a time and walk approximately 50 feet before experiencing severe fatigue. Daily, I endure chronic pain that feels like waking up with the flu, the worst hangover, and having been in a terrible car accident—every single day. My brain fog is a frustrating reality; it’s a dismissive term for the significant word-finding difficulties and memory issues I face. I am about 75% housebound.
When I first learned about Long COVID, I felt profoundly alone. Many people didn’t believe me, having experienced only mild COVID symptoms themselves. They simply couldn’t fathom how someone could suffer so severely from “just” COVID.
My five-year live-in relationship ended, I couldn’t return to the job I loved, and I felt lost. I moved back in with my supportive family, who continue to be my caretakers.
From this experience, Bloom-19, a Long COVID advocacy initiative, was born out of my desire to help others feel less isolated and to share my journey of healing through food.
As The Long COVID Chef, I aim to dismantle ableist narratives by creating recipes friendly to those with chronic illnesses. I focus on gluten-free, dairy-free, and refined sugar-free options while using shortcut ingredients to keep them easy to prepare. I don’t offer nutritional advice—instead, I ask you what you enjoy eating, your dietary restrictions, and your functional capacity so I can tailor recipes to your needs. My goal is to spark joy in food for those living with disabilities.
I also share food safety tips about potential food allergens and foodborne illness. The WHO estimates that 600 million people worldwide fall ill with foodborne illness each year. These types of illnesses can be much harder to endure if you are a person living with disabilities.
I’ve had to confront my own internalized ableism, and I’m still learning every day. I’m proud to support a community that has given me so much.
Comments