An At-Home Contagiousness Test for COVID-19 Already Exists. Why Can’t We Use It?
Kira Peikoff was the editor-in-chief of Leaps.org from 2017 to 2021. As a journalist, her work has appeared in The New York Times, Newsweek, Nautilus, Popular Mechanics, The New York Academy of Sciences, and other outlets. She is also the author of four suspense novels that explore controversial issues arising from scientific innovation: Living Proof, No Time to Die, Die Again Tomorrow, and Mother Knows Best. Peikoff holds a B.A. in Journalism from New York University and an M.S. in Bioethics from Columbia University. She lives in New Jersey with her husband and two young sons. Follow her on Twitter @KiraPeikoff.
You're lying in bed late at night, the foggy swirl of the pandemic's 8th month just beginning to fall behind you, when you detect a slight tickle at the back of your throat.
"If half of people choose to use these tests every other day, then we can stop transmission faster than a vaccine can."
Suddenly fully awake, a jolt of panicked electricity races through your body. Has COVID-19 come for you? In the U.S., answering this simple question is incredibly difficult.
Now, you might have to wait for hours in line in your car to get a test for $100, only to find out your result 10-14 days later -- much too late to matter in stopping an outbreak. Due to such obstacles, a recent report in JAMA Internal Medicine estimated that 9 out of 10 infections in the U.S. are being missed.
But what if you could use a paper strip in the privacy of your own home, like a pregnancy test, and find out if you are contagious in real time?
e25 Bio, a small company in Cambridge, Mass., has already created such a test and it has been sitting on a lab bench, inaccessible, since April. It is an antigen test, which looks for proteins on the outside of a virus, and can deliver results in about 15 minutes. Also like an over-the-counter pregnancy test, e25 envisions its paper strips as a public health screening tool, rather than a definitive diagnostic test. People who see a positive result would be encouraged to then seek out a physician-administered, gold-standard diagnostic test: the more sensitive PCR.
Typically, hospitals and other health facilities rely on PCR tests to diagnose viruses. This test can detect small traces of genetic material that a virus leaves behind in the human body, which tells a clinician that the patient is either actively infected with or recently cleared that virus. PCR is quite sensitive, meaning that it is able to detect the presence of a virus' genetic material very accurately.
But although PCR is the gold-standard for diagnostics, it's also the most labor-intensive way to test for a virus and takes a relatively long time to produce results. That's not a good match for stopping super-spreader events during an unchecked pandemic. PCR is also not great at identifying the infected people when they are most at risk of potentially transmitting the virus to others.
That's because the viral threshold at which PCR can detect a positive result is so low, that it's actually too sensitive for the purposes of telling whether someone is contagious.
"The majority of time someone is PCR positive, those [genetic] remnants do not indicate transmissible virus," epidemiologist Michael Mina recently Tweeted. "They indicate remnants of a recently cleared infection."
To stop the chain of transmission for COVID-19, he says, "We need a more accurate test than PCR, that turns positive when someone is able to transmit."
In other words, we need a test that is better at detecting whether a person is contagious, as opposed to whether a small amount of virus can be detected in their nose or saliva. This kind of test is especially critical given the research showing that asymptomatic and pre-symptomatic people have high viral loads and are spreading the virus undetected.
The critical question for contagiousness testing, then, is how big a dose of SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID, does it take to infect most people? Researchers are still actively trying to answer this. As Angela Rasmussen, a coronavirus expert at Columbia University, told STAT: "We don't know the amount that is required to cause an infection, but it seems that it's probably not a really, really small amount, like measles."
Amesh Adalja, an infectious disease physician and a senior scholar at the Johns Hopkins University Center for Health Security, told LeapsMag: "It's still unclear what viral load is associated with contagiousness but it is biologically plausible that higher viral loads, in general, are associated with more efficient transmission especially in symptomatic individuals. In those without symptoms, however, the same relationship may not hold and this may be one of the reasons young children, despite their high viral loads, are not driving outbreaks."
"Antigen tests work best when there's high viral loads. They're catching people who are super spreaders."
Mina and colleagues estimate that widespread use of weekly cheap, rapid tests that are 100 times less sensitive than PCR tests would prevent outbreaks -- as long as the people who are positive self-isolate.
So why can't we buy e25Bio's test at a drugstore right now? Ironically, it's barred for the very reason that it's useful in the first place: Because it is not sensitive enough to satisfy the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, according to the company.
"We're ready to go," says Carlos-Henri Ferré, senior associate of operations and communications at e25. "We've applied to FDA, and now it's in their hands."
The problem, he said, is that the FDA is evaluating applications for antigen tests based on criteria for assessing diagnostics, like PCR, even when the tests serve a different purpose -- as a screening tool.
"Antigen tests work best when there's high viral loads," Ferré says. "They're catching people who are super spreaders, that are capable of continuing the spread of disease … FDA criteria is for diagnostics and not this."
FDA released guidance on July 29th -- 140 days into the pandemic -- recommending that at-home tests should perform with at least 80 percent sensitivity if ordered by prescription, and at least 90 percent sensitivity if purchased over the counter. "The danger of a false negative result is that it can contribute to the spread of COVID-19," according to an FDA spokesperson. "However, oversight of a health care professional who reviews the results, in combination with the patient's symptoms and uses their clinical judgment to recommend additional testing, if needed, among other things, can help mitigate some risks."
Crucially, the 90 percent sensitivity recommendation is judged upon comparison to PCR tests, meaning that if a PCR test is able to detect virus in 100 samples, the at-home antigen test would need to detect virus in at least 90 of those samples. Since antigen tests only detect high viral loads, frustrated critics like Mina say that such guidance is "unreasonable."
"The FDA at this moment is not understanding the true potential for wide-scale frequent testing. In some ways this is not their fault," Mina told LeapsMag. "The FDA does not have any remit to evaluate tests that fall outside of medical diagnostic testing. The proposal I have put forth is not about diagnostic testing (leave that for symptomatic cases reporting to their physician and getting PCR tests)....Daily rapid tests are not about diagnosing people and they are not about public health surveillance and they are not about passports to go to school, out to dinner or into the office. They are about reducing population-level transmission given a similar approach as vaccines."
A reasonable standard, he added, would be to follow the World Health Organization's Target Product Profiles, which are documents to help developers build desirable and minimally acceptable testing products. "A decent limit," Mina says, "is a 70% or 80% sensitivity (if they truly require sensitivity as a metric) to detect virus at Ct values less than 25. This coincides with detection of the most transmissible people, which is important."
(A Ct value is a type of measurement that corresponds inversely to the amount of viral load in a given sample. Researchers have found that Ct values of 13-17 indicate high viral load, whereas Ct values greater than 34 indicate a lack of infectious virus.)
"We believe this should be an at-home test, but [if FDA approval comes through] the first rollout is to do this in laboratories, hospitals, and clinics."
"We believe that population screening devices have an immediate place and use in helping beat the virus," says Ferré. "You can have a significant impact even with a test at 60% sensitivity if you are testing frequently."
When presented with criticism of its recommendations, the FDA indicated that it will not automatically deny any at-home test that fails to meet the 90 percent sensitivity guidance.
"FDA is always open to alternative proposals from developers, including strategies for serial testing with less sensitive tests," a spokesperson wrote in a statement. "For example, it is possible that overall sensitivity of the strategy could be considered cumulatively rather than based on one-time testing….In the case of a manufacturer with an at-home test that can only detect people with COVID-19 when they have a high viral load, we encourage them to talk with us so we can better understand their test, how they propose to use it, and the validation data they have collected to support that use."
However, the FDA's actions so far conflict with its stated openness. e25 ended up adding a step to the protocol in order to better meet FDA standards for sensitivity, but that extra step—sending samples to a laboratory for results—will undercut the test's ability to work as an at-home screening tool.
"We believe this should be an at-home test, but [if FDA approval comes through] the first rollout is to do this in laboratories, hospitals, and clinics," Ferré says.
According to the FDA, no test developers have approached them with a request for an emergency use authorization that proposes an alternate testing paradigm, such as serial testing, to mitigate test sensitivity below 80 percent.
From a scientific perspective, antigen tests like e25Bio's are not the only horse in the race for a simple rapid test with potential for at-home use. CRISPR technology has long been touted as fertile ground for diagnostics, and in an eerily prescient interview with LeapsMag in November, CRISPR pioneer Feng Zhang spoke of its potential application as an at-home diagnostic for an infectious disease specifically.
"I think in the long run it will be great to see this for, say, at-home disease testing, for influenza and other sorts of important public health [concerns]," he said in the fall. "To be able to get a readout at home, people can potentially quarantine themselves rather than traveling to a hospital and then carrying the risk of spreading that disease to other people as they get to the clinic."
Zhang's company Sherlock Biosciences is now working on scaled-up manufacturing of a test to detect SARS CoV-2. Mammoth Biosciences, which secured funding from the National Institutes of Health's Rapid Acceleration of Diagnostics program, is also working on a CRISPR diagnostic for SARS CoV-2. Both would check the box for rapid testing, but so far not for at-home testing, as they would also require laboratory infrastructure to provide results.
If any at-home tests can clear the regulatory hurdles, they would also need to be manufactured on a large scale and be cheap enough to entice people to actually use them. In the world of at-home diagnostics, pregnancy tests have become the sole mainstream victor because they're simple to use, small to carry, easy to interpret, and costs about seven or eight dollars at any ubiquitous store, like Target or Walmart. By comparison, the at-home COVID collection tests that don't even offer diagnostics—you send away your sample to an external lab—all cost over $100 to take just one time.
For the time being, the only available diagnostics for COVID require a lab or an expensive dedicated machine to process. This disconnect could prolong the world's worst health crisis in a century.
"Daily rapid tests have enormous potential to sever transmission chains and create herd effects similar to herd immunity," Mina says. "We all recognize that vaccines and infections can result in herd immunity when something around half of people are no longer susceptible.
"The same thing exists with these tests. These are the intervention to stop the virus. If half of people choose to use these tests every other day, then we can stop transmission faster than a vaccine can. The technology exists, the theory and mathematics back it up, the epidemiology is sound. There is no reason we are not approaching this as strongly as we would be approaching vaccines."
--Additional reporting by Julia Sklar
Kira Peikoff was the editor-in-chief of Leaps.org from 2017 to 2021. As a journalist, her work has appeared in The New York Times, Newsweek, Nautilus, Popular Mechanics, The New York Academy of Sciences, and other outlets. She is also the author of four suspense novels that explore controversial issues arising from scientific innovation: Living Proof, No Time to Die, Die Again Tomorrow, and Mother Knows Best. Peikoff holds a B.A. in Journalism from New York University and an M.S. in Bioethics from Columbia University. She lives in New Jersey with her husband and two young sons. Follow her on Twitter @KiraPeikoff.
Sustainable Urban Farming Has a Rising Hot Star: Bugs
In Sydney, Australia, in the basement of an inner-city high-rise, lives a mass of unexpected inhabitants: millions of maggots. The insects are far from unwelcome. They are there to feast on the food waste generated by the building's human residents.
Goterra, the start-up that installed the maggots in the building in December, belongs to the rapidly expanding insect agriculture industry, which is experiencing a surge of investment worldwide.
The maggots – the larvae of the black soldier fly – are voracious, unfussy eaters. As adult flies, they don't eat, so the young fatten up swiftly on whatever they can get. Goterra's basement colony can munch through 5 metric tons of waste in a day.
"Maggots are nature's cleaners," says Bob Gordon, Head of Growth at Goterra. "They're a great tool to manage waste streams."
Their capacity to consume presents a neat response to the problem of food waste, which contributes up to 8% of global greenhouse gas emissions each year as it rots in landfill.
"The maggots eat the food fairly fresh," Gordon says. "So, there's minimal degradation and you don't get those methane emissions."
Alongside their ability to devour waste, the soldier fly larvae hold further agricultural promise: they yield an incredibly efficient protein. After the maggots have binged for about 12 days, Goterra harvests and processes them into a protein-rich livestock feed. Their excrement, known as frass, is also collected and turned into soil conditioner.
"We are producing protein in a basement," says Gordon. "It's urban farming – really sustainable, urban farming."
Goterra's module in the basement at Barangaroo, Sydney.
Supplied by Goterra
Goterra's founder Olympia Yarger started producing the insects in "buckets in her backyard" in 2016. Today, Goterra has a large-scale processing plant and has developed proprietary modules – in shipping containers – that use robotics to manage the larvae.
The modules have been installed on site at municipal buildings, hospitals, supermarkets, several McDonald's restaurants, and a range of smaller enterprises in Australia. Users pay a subscription fee and simply pour in the waste; Goterra visits once a fortnight to harvest the bugs.
Insect agriculture is well established outside of the West, and the practice is gaining traction around the world. China has mega-facilities that can process hundreds of tons of waste in a day. In Kenya, a program recently trained 2000 farmers in soldier fly farming to boost their economic security. French biotech company InnovaFeed, in partnership with US agricultural heavyweight ADM, plans to build "the world's largest insect protein facility" in Illinois this year.
"The [maggots] are science fiction on earth. Watching them work is awe-inspiring."
But the concept is still not to everyone's taste.
"This is still a topic that I say is a bit like black liquorice – people tend to either really like it or really don't," says Wendy Lu McGill, Communications Director at the North American Coalition of Insect Agriculture (NACIA).
Formed in 2016, NACIA now has over 100 members – including researchers and commercial producers of black soldier flies, meal worms and crickets.
McGill says there have been a few iterations of insect agriculture in the US – beginning with worms produced for bait after World War II then shifting to food for exotic pets. The current focus – "insects as food and feed" – took root about a decade ago, with the establishment of the first commercial farms for this purpose.
"We're starting to see more expansion in the U.S. and a lot of the larger investments have been for black soldier fly producers," McGill says. "They tend to have larger facilities and the animal feed market they're looking at is potentially quite large."
InnovaFeed's Illinois facility is set to produce 60,000 metric tons of animal feed protein per year.
"They'll be trying to employ many different circular principles," McGill says of the project. "For example, the heat from the feed factory – the excess heat that would normally just be vented – will be used to heat the other side that's raising the black soldier fly."
Although commercial applications have started to flourish recently, scientific knowledge of the black soldier fly's potential has existed for decades.
Dr. Jeffery Tomberlin, an entomologist at Texas A&M University, has been studying the insect for over 20 years, contributing to key technologies used in the industry. He also founded Evo, a black soldier fly company in Texas, which feeds its larvae the waste from a local bakery and distillery.
"They are science fiction on earth," he says of the maggots. "Watching them work is awe-inspiring."
Tomberlin says fly farms can work effectively at different scales, and present possibilities for non-Western countries to shift towards "commodity independence."
"You don't have to have millions of dollars invested to be successful in producing this insect," he says. "[A farm] can be as simple as an open barn along the equator to a 30,000 square-foot indoor facility in the Netherlands."
As the world's population balloons, food insecurity is an increasing concern. By 2050, the UN predicts that to feed our projected population we will need to ramp up food production by at least 60%. Insect agriculture, which uses very little land and water compared to traditional livestock farming, could play a key role.
Insects may become more common human food, but the current commercial focus is animal feed. Aquaculture is a key market, with insects presenting an alternative to fish meal derived from over-exploited stocks. Insect meal is also increasingly popular in pet food, particularly in Europe.
While recent investment has been strong – NACIA says 2020 was the best year yet – reaching a scale that can match existing agricultural industries and providing a competitive price point are still hurdles for insect agriculture.
But COVID-19 has strengthened the argument for new agricultural approaches, such as the decentralized, indoor systems and circular principles employed by insect farms.
"This has given the world a preview – which no one wanted – of [future] supply chain disruptions," says McGill.
As the industry works to meet demand, Tomberlin predicts diversification and product innovation: "I think food science is going to play a big part in that. They can take an insect and create ice cream." (Dried soldier fly larvae "taste kind of like popcorn," if you were wondering.)
Tomberlin says the insects could even become an interplanetary protein source: "I do believe in that. I mean, if we're going to colonize other planets, we need to be sustainable."
But he issues a word of caution about the industry growing too big, too fast: "I think we as an industry need to be very careful of how we harness and apply [our knowledge]. The black soldier fly is considered the crown jewel today, but if it's mismanaged, it can be relegated back to a past."
Goterra's Gordon also warns against rushing into mass production: "If you're just replacing big intensive animal agriculture with big intensive animal agriculture with more efficient animals, then what's the change you're really effecting?"
But he expects the industry will continue its rise though the next decade, and Goterra – fuelled by recent $8 million Series A funding – plans to expand internationally this year.
"Within 10 years' time, I would like to see the vast majority of our unavoidable food waste being used to produce maggots to go into a protein application," Gordon says.
"There's no lack of demand. And there's no lack of food waste."
One of the biggest challenges of the COVID-19 pandemic is the way in which it has forced us to question our hopes. In normal times, hope is a tonic we take in small doses to keep us moving forward through the slog of daily life. The pandemic, however, has made it a much scarcer commodity, spurring us not only to seek it more desperately but to scrutinize it more closely.
Every bit of reassurance seems to come with caveats: Masks can shield us from the coronavirus, but they may need to be doubled in some situations to provide adequate protection. Vaccines work, but they may not be as effective against some viral variants—and they can cause extremely rare but serious side effects. Every few weeks, another potential miracle cure makes headlines (Hydroxychloroquine! Convalescent plasma!), only to prove disappointing on closer inspection. It's hard to know which alleged breakthroughs are worth pinning our hopes on, and which are the products of wishful thinking or hucksterism.
In January 2021, a study published in the journal Gut offered evidence that bacteria in the intestines might influence a whole spectrum of symptoms in long-haul patients.
Lately, two possible sources of hope have emerged concerning so-called "long COVID"—the debilitating syndrome, estimated to affect up to one-third of patients, in which physical, neurological, and cognitive symptoms persist for months. The first encouraging item has gotten plenty of media attention: reports that some long-haulers feel better after being vaccinated. The second item, while less widely covered, has caused a stir among scientists: a study suggesting that rebalancing the gut microbiome—the community of microorganisms in our intestines—could decrease both the severity and duration of the illness.
How optimistic should we allow ourselves to be about either of these developments? Experts warn that it's too soon to tell. Yet research into how vaccines and gut bacteria affect long-haulers—and how both factors might work together—could eventually help solve key pieces of the pandemic puzzle.
Investigating the Role of the Gut Microbiome
The idea that there may be a link between COVID-19 and gut health comes as no surprise to Jessica Lovett. Her case began in June 2020 with gastrointestinal distress—a symptom that was just beginning to be recognized as commonplace in what had initially been considered a respiratory illness. "I had diarrhea three to five times a day for two months," Lovett recalls. "I lost a lot of weight." By July, she was also suffering shortness of breath, chest pain, racing heartbeat, severe fatigue, brain fog, migraines, memory lapses, and more. As with many other COVID long-haulers, these troubles waxed and waned in an endless parade.
Lovett was the marketing manager for a music school in Austin, Texas, and the mother of a two-year-old boy. Just before she got sick, she ran a 5K race for her 40th birthday. Afterward, she had to give up her job, stop driving, and delegate childcare to her husband (who fell ill shortly before she did but recovered in 12 days). Tests showed no visible damage to her lungs, heart, or other organs. But she felt intuitively that taming her GI troubles would be key to getting well. On the advice of fellow patients in a long-COVID Facebook group—and, later, with the guidance of a doctor—she tried avoiding foods thought to trigger histamine reactions or inflammation. That seemed to help some, as did nutritional supplements, antihistamines, and angina medications. Still, she relapsed frequently, and was often bedridden.
In January 2021, a study published in the journal Gut offered evidence that bacteria in the intestines might influence a whole spectrum of symptoms in patients like Lovett. Researchers at the Chinese University of Hong Kong examined blood and stool samples and medical records from 100 hospital patients with lab-confirmed COVID-19 infections, and from 78 people without the disease who were taking part in a microbiome study before the pandemic.
The team, led by professor Siew Chien Ng, found that the makeup of the gut microbiome differed sharply between the two groups. Patients with COVID had higher levels of three bacterial species than those without the infection, but lower levels of several species known to enhance immune system response. Reductions in two of those species—Faecalibacterium prausnitzii and Bifidobacterium bifidum—were associated with more severe symptoms. And the numbers of such helpful bacteria remained low in stool samples collected up to 30 days after infected patients had seemingly cleared the coronavirus from their bodies.
Analysis of blood samples, moreover, showed that these bacterial imbalances correlated with higher levels of inflammatory cytokines (immune system chemicals that are elevated in many patients with severe COVID-19) and markers of tissue damage, such as C-reactive protein.
These findings led the researchers to suggest that rebalancing the microbiome might lessen not only the intensity of COVID symptoms, but also their persistence. "Bolstering of beneficial gut species depleted in COVID-19," they wrote, "could serve as a novel avenue to mitigate severe disease, underscoring the importance of managing patients' gut biota during and after COVID-19."
Soon afterward, Ng revealed that she was working on a solution. Her team, she told Medscape, had developed "a microbiome immunity product that is targeted to what is missing in COVID-19 patients." Early research showed that hospitalized patients who received the treatment developed more antibodies, had fewer symptoms, and were discharged sooner. "So it is quite a bright and promising future," she enthused, "in alleviating some of these detrimental effects of the virus."
The Chicken-and-Egg Problem
Ng's study isn't the only one to suggest a connection between the gut and long COVID. Researchers led by gastroenterologist Saurabh Mehandru at New York's Mount Sinai Hospital recently determined that SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, can linger in the intestines for months after a patient tests negative. Some studies have also found that gastrointestinal symptoms in the acute phase of the illness correlate with poorer outcomes—though that's far from settled. (In another study, Mehandru's team found lower mortality among patients presenting with GI symptoms.) But the Hong Kong group's paper was the first to posit that resident microbes may play a decisive role in the disease.
That view reflects growing evidence that these bugs can influence a range of ailments, from diabetes to schizophrenia. Over the past decade, the gut microbiome has emerged as a central regulator of the immune system. Some intestinal bacteria emit chemicals that signal immune cells to reduce production of inflammatory proteins, or help those cells effectively target invading pathogens. They also help maintain the integrity of the intestinal lining—preventing the syndrome known as "leaky gut," in which harmful microbes or toxins penetrate to the underlying tissue, potentially wreaking havoc throughout the body and brain.
Nonetheless, many experts have responded to Ng's findings with distinct caution. One problem, they point out, is the chicken-and-egg question: Do reduced levels of beneficial gut bacteria trigger the inflammation seen in COVID-19, or does inflammation triggered by COVID-19 kill off beneficial gut bacteria? "It's an issue of causality versus just association," explains Somsouk Ma, a professor of gastroenterology at the University of California, San Francisco. "I tend to think that the shift in microbes is more likely a consequence of the infection. But, of course, that's just speculation."
A related issue is whether a pill that replenishes "good" bacteria can really combat the effects of COVID-19—whether acute or chronic. Although scientists are studying fecal transplants and other probiotic therapies for many disorders, none has yet been approved by the U.S Food and Drug Administration. "The only situation where bacterial transplantation is known to work is in a form of colitis called Clostridium difficile," notes Mehandru. "I think it's a bit premature to lay too much emphasis on this in the context of COVID."
Placebo-controlled clinical trials will be needed to determine the efficacy of Ng's approach. (Consumer warning: The bacteria she's employing are not found in commercially available probiotics.) Whatever the results, such research—along with studies that track patients' gut microbiomes before, during, and after COVID-19 infection—could help scientists understand why some people have such trouble kicking the disease.
An Unexpected Benefit of Vaccines
The question of what causes long COVID is also central to understanding the effects of vaccines on the condition. In March, as inoculation campaigns took off across the nation, many long-haulers were delighted to see their symptoms disappear within days of getting the shot. "I woke up and it was like, 'Oh what a beautiful morning,'" one patient told The New York Times.
Yet the effects have been far from uniform. Although scientific surveys have not yet been conducted, an April poll by a Facebook group called Survivor Corps found numbers close to experts' estimates: 39 percent said they experienced partial to full recovery post-vaccination; 46 percent saw no difference; and 14 percent felt worse.
How could vaccines—which are designed to prevent COVID-19, not cure it—help some chronic patients get well? In a blog post, Yale immunologist Akiko Iwasaki suggested that the answer depends on what is driving a particular patient's symptoms. Iwasaki identified three possible mechanisms behind long COVID: 1) a persistent viral reservoir; 2) a "viral ghost," composed of fragments of the virus (RNA or proteins) that linger after the infection has been cleared but can still stimulate inflammation; and 3) an autoimmune response triggered by the infection, inducing a patient's immune cells to attack her own tissues.
These mechanisms "are not mutually exclusive," Iwasaki wrote, "and all three might benefit from the vaccines." If a patient has a viral reservoir, vaccine-induced immune cells and antibodies might be able to eliminate it. If the patient has a viral ghost, those vaccine-primed immune responses might knock it out as well. And if the patient is suffering from a COVID-triggered autoimmune syndrome, the vaccine might act as a decoy, shifting the immune system's attention to antigens contained in the shot (and perhaps reprogramming autoimmune cells in the process). The varying role of these underlying factors, and possibly others—such as the gut microbiome—might also help explain why vaccines don't benefit all long-haulers equally. Iwasaki and her team recently launched a clinical study to investigate this theory.
Pato Hebert, a professor of art and public policy at NYU, contracted COVID-19 in March 2020 while on sabbatical in Los Angeles. Hebert, then 50, started out with mild flu-like symptoms, but he was slammed with fatigue, headaches, and confusion a week after testing positive. In April, he landed in urgent care with severe shortness of breath. His brain fog worsened that summer, and a gentle swim brought on a dizzy spell so overwhelming that he feared it was a stroke. (Thankfully, tests showed it wasn't.) In September, he developed severe GI issues, which came and went over the following months. He found some relief through medications, dietary adjustments, acupuncture, herbal remedies, and careful conservation of his physical and mental energy—but a year after his diagnosis, he was still sick.
Hebert received his first dose of the Moderna vaccine on March 1, 2021; it made no difference in his symptoms. After his second dose, on the 29th, he suffered terrible headaches—"like early COVID days," he told me. A week later, his condition had improved slightly compared to pre-vaccination. "With a few exceptions, my fatigue and brain fog have been less challenging," he reported. "I'm cautiously optimistic." But in late April, he suffered another flareup of respiratory and GI issues.
For Jessica Lovett, the vaccine's effects were more dramatic. After her first dose of the Pfizer-BioNTech formula, on February 26, her cognitive symptoms improved enough that she was able to drive again; within a week, she was pushing her son uphill in a stroller, lifting light weights, and running for short distances. After the second dose, she says, "I had incredible energy. It was insane, like I drank three cups of coffee."
Lovett (who now runs a Facebook support group for Austin locals, ATX Covid Long Haulers) stresses that the vaccine hasn't cured her. She winds up back in bed whenever she pushes herself too hard. She still needs to take antihistamines and shun certain foodstuffs; any slip-up brings another relapse. Yet she's able to live more fully than at any time since she fell ill—and she has begun to feel a renewed sense of hope.
Recently, in fact, she and her husband decided to expand their family. "I guess that tells you something," she says with a laugh. "The doctors have given us the okay, and we're going to try."