When a Cold Isn’t Just a Cold Anymore
Living with long Covid as flu season brings old fears back
It started innocently enough.
A scratchy throat over the weekend. A bit of congestion. A lot of sneezing. That familiar something’s not quite right feeling that most people shrug off with a hot lemon drink and a mild sense of inconvenience.
Except I didn’t shrug it off.
I froze.
Because when you live with long Covid, a cold isn’t just a cold. It spawns a lot more questions than answers. How will this affect my energy levels? What will it do to my already fatigued body? It is the difference between a quick cold or a longer period of exhaustion, brain fog, breathlessness, and that heavy, leaden feeling that settles into your bones.
By Sunday morning, my mind was already racing ahead of my body. What if this isn’t a cold? What if it’s the flu? What if this resets everything I’ve slowly rebuilt?
That’s the thing people often don’t see. The illness itself is only half the story. The other half is the fear that arrives with it.
When “Mild” Isn’t Mild Anymore
Before Long Covid, I would have described myself as fairly resilient. I got ill, I recovered, and life moved on. Colds were background noise. The flu was unpleasant but temporary. You endured it, complained a bit, and then got back on with things.
Now, even a mild virus can wipe me out.
This cold has done exactly that. Days later, I’m still paying for it. My energy vanished almost overnight. Concentration has become difficult. My body feels like it is running on a low battery that refuses to charge, despite the sleep I get. It’s frustrating, disheartening, and familiar in a way I wish it wasn’t.
What scares me isn’t just how ill I feel now, but how unpredictable the aftermath is. Will this flare settle in a few days? Will it linger throughout Christmas? Will it undo months of careful pacing, cautious optimism, and possible progress in managing my energy levels?
There are no clear answers, and that uncertainty is exhausting in its own right.
Flu Season Hits Differently Now
We’re hearing a lot about rising flu rates in the United Kingdom at the moment. News reports, public health warnings, and conversations that feel oddly casual given how serious flu can be, even for people without underlying conditions.
I find myself listening with a knot in my stomach.
Flu isn’t just “a bad cold”. It’s a systemic illness that can floor healthy adults for weeks. For someone with Long Covid, it feels like stepping into a fog without knowing how thick it will be or how long it will last.
I don’t panic, but I do worry in the background, and sometimes the worry sneaks up on me when I least expect it.
Standing in a shop.
Sitting on a bus.
This is the quiet mental load that comes with chronic illness. You’re always calculating risk, even when you don’t want to be.
To Mask or Not to Mask (Again)
I’ve started thinking about masks again.
Not in a dramatic, I am going all out wearing masks kind of way. Just quietly, practically, in the background. The problem is that hardly anyone else is doing it.
Masking now feels awkward here. Its presence can almost be confrontational, even though it shouldn’t be. I catch myself worrying about what people will think, about standing out, about being the odd one in the room again.
Then I remind myself of something important: I’m the one who has to live in this body.
If masking reduces the risk of another infection that could set me back, even slightly, then the social discomfort is worth it. But that doesn’t make the decision easy. There’s fatigue in always having to be the cautious one, the careful one, the person who can’t just blend back into post-pandemic normality.
The Vaccine Question (and the Stock Shortage Spiral)
Then there’s the vaccine question.
In theory, getting a flu and Covid booster together seems a bit full-on but sensible. In practice, it’s anything but straightforward. Supplies in the UK seem patchy. Pharmacies run out. Appointments are at unsociable times. Eligibility rules feel opaque. Are people with Long Covid eligible for a free vaccine? Layered on top of that is the internal debate: Will it help? Could it make things worse? Is it worth the risk?
When your nervous system already feels fragile, even well-intentioned interventions come with big hesitation.
I’ve spoken to people who swear vaccines helped them. Others felt temporarily worse. I have been emailed by people who tell me the vaccine actually caused Long Covid. Some people avoided them entirely out of fear. There’s no universal experience, and that makes decision-making harder, not easier.
I don’t want to live in fear of illness. But I also don’t want to pretend my body reacts the way it used to.
So I sit with the uncertainty. I gather information. I weigh risks. And I try not to judge myself for finding it difficult.
Living With the Fear Without Letting It Win
This is the balance I’m constantly trying to strike.
I don’t want Long Covid to shrink my world any further. But I also can’t ignore the reality of my limits. Fear can be protective, but it can also quietly take over if you’re not careful.
What I’m learning is that courage doesn’t always look like pushing through. Sometimes it looks like slowing down. Wearing the mask. Cancelling the plan. Resting earlier than feels reasonable. Saying, This matters, even if no one else sees it.
I wish we talked more honestly about this side of chronic illness. Not just symptoms, but the emotional labour of navigating a world that’s largely moved on.
Because for many of us, the pandemic didn’t end. It just changed shape.
Where I’m Landing (For Now)
Right now, I’m resting. I’m letting this cold/flu run its course. I’m being gentle with myself, even when impatience creeps in. I’m considering masking again in crowded spaces. I’m still trying to secure vaccines, even if I might not actually go and get them.
Mostly, I’m reminding myself that fear doesn’t mean failure. It means awareness. And awareness, handled kindly, can be a form of wisdom.
If you’re feeling similarly anxious as flu rates rise, you’re not alone. You’re paying attention, and in a body that’s been through a lot, that makes sense.
We’re not overreacting. We’re adapting.
And sometimes, adaptation is the bravest thing we do.
Life with Long Covid is more than a few articles; it is also:
A community which you can find at www.lifewithlongcovid.co.uk
A podcast which you can access through the website or through Apple and Spotify, just search for ‘Life with Long Covid’.
I have also produced a short book that details some of my podcasts in short, easily digestible chapters. You can read it when you have the energy. It’s available on Amazon here.
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I know what you mean about standing out when you wear a mask but I think it's worth it. The more you do it the more relaxed you feel with a mask on.