Jaime
My name is Jaime, I’m 29 years old from Atlantic Canada. May 18th, 2022 is the day I got COVID, and the day my life changed. Before this, I worked as a flight attendant since 2017 and was three years into bodybuilding. I was active, independent, and enjoying a life I loved.
Not long after COVID, I began experiencing dizziness and gastrointestinal issues, which became much worse at work. Alongside overwhelming fatigue, it became increasingly difficult to keep up with both my career and lifestyle. I held on as long as I could, continuing to fly for over a year before operating my last flight in December 2023. I also tried to continue bodybuilding, but eventually I had to accept that my body could no longer sustain it.
I attempted other roles in 2024, but by 2025 I couldn’t even sustain a desk job and have been unable to work since.
As my career and passions slipped away, I was also trying to understand what was happening to my body. For the first two years, my symptoms were often dismissed as anxiety or disordered eating. It wasn’t until 2024, when I met my current family doctor, that I felt heard. We did ultrasounds, scopes, and trialed different medications for over a year.
By 2025, my condition had significantly worsened. I was spending most of my time lying down, with very little tolerance for sitting or standing, and extreme difficulty with hydration and eating. I also experienced a severe anaphylactic reaction while home alone during an ice storm, something I had never gone through before. At this point, I felt very concerned and like I was loosing my independence.
Eventually, I was referred to an internal medicine specialist after mentioning an article I had come across about PoTS. I related to it and began tracking my symptoms over time, feeling it might explain what I was experiencing. In November 2025, I had my first appointment. After reviewing my history, performing the NASA lean test, and trialing medications, I was diagnosed with long COVID, PoTS, and suspected MCAS. Finally, putting a name to what I had been experiencing for years.
Today, I have seen some improvement with medications like Pepcid and Allegra as well as simple supports like broth and electrolytes. However, beyond the physical challenges, there has been a significant mental and emotional impact. Losing the ability to do what I once could has not become easier with time.
There is a constant internal conflict: choosing between doing something I want to do and knowing it will worsen my symptoms, or missing out entirely. Even small, everyday decisions now come with consequences. I often heard the advice to “focus on what you can do, not what you can’t,” but for me, that didn’t help. There were many days where all I could do is lie in a dark room, aware of life continuing around me. In those moments, it felt hard to be appreciate what I was currently able to do and not think about the life I once had.
Instead, I’ve accepted that in those moments, there isn’t always advice that works for me. What does help is how I choose to think, and these two thoughts are what carry me through my harder moments:
- I remind myself how grateful I am that my loved ones are able to live their lives fully and how fortunate I am to have had their constant support through every part of this journey.
- I also hold onto the belief that this experience may allow me to help someone else one day. Whether that’s someone with the same conditions, someone facing different health challenges, or simply someone feeling isolated or alone. Even if all I can offer is understanding and a listening ear, that feels meaningful to me.
Something I’ve come to understand is how important it is to be surrounded by people who try to understand and support you. I’ve also learned that not every piece of advice will fit, and that’s okay. What’s important is to keep going, in whatever way that looks like for you.