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The Blackest Side of Long Covid!

This new writing platform is under the imprint of the Black Long Covid Experience.

It centralizes Black people living with Long Covid through storytelling and health advocacy.

Ooooo, What was Said?!

Here are a few quotes from The Blackest Side of Long Covid to show you why you should subscribe and support.

“Keeping my hands dirty is my thoughtful choice to stay connected to people—even white women—who trust that Blackness is not a threat to this country’s evolution. It’s turning the soil in a garden of misunderstanding, hatred, and discrimination until my hands are sore to the touch. Until my hands bump up against those of people who may not look like me although we share the same agenda. Until we plant so deeply on common ground that no President, Congress, or Supreme Court can stop the successful vegetation of something harmonious to the soul, impactful in our healthcare and education, and refined by seeds of humanity to survive.”

I’ll Leave My Hands Dirty.

“I argue that Black people with Long Covid are heroes. America is so entrenched in erasing every facet of Blackness that prioritizing Black health advocacy is often dangerous. I posit we are the stuff of legends. Our names may never be printed in history books nor will certificates often bear our achievements. We won’t be the first people you recall when you think of Black History Month. But our bravery, frustration, and vulnerability has led many others to seek treatment for the condition that has affected millions of Black Americans. And February belongs to us, too.

Black Long Covid Communities are Black History.

“In the beginning of my Long Covid eye care journey, I was simply basking in the comfort of finally being seen and acknowledged by an ophthalmologist so much that I mistook additional observations—with sound effects—as approval. During the height of the pandemic, being rejected by emergency room physicians and other medical staff was so routine to me that I was often shocked when any of them showed signs of compassion. So I learned how to be a good patient, pretending to ignore the sights and sounds of these masked professionals who I believed knew more about my eyes—and entire body—than they ever admitted.

I didn’t want to be the Black woman who rocked the boat. I couldn’t risk some of the most prestigious doctors in the country sending me home—again—with no diagnosis, or blind, as I feared Covid’s effect on my life.”

The Eyes (Don’t) have It.