Some viruses, like the common cold, are a flash in the pan. They infect us, our bodies fight back — which is what makes us sick — and then they’re gone, until the next variant rolls along.
Other viruses linger.
Once HIV gains a foothold in a person’s body it never leaves, except for the few individuals who’ve been cured by bone marrow transplant; people with HIV must continually take antiretroviral drugs to stay healthy and not develop AIDS.
HSV1 and 2 — the viruses responsible for genital herpes and cold sores — flare and fade throughout a person’s life. And another herpes virus, varicella-zoster, first presents as chickenpox, then hides for years, even decades, until it reactivates as shingles. Human papilloma virus, or HPV, can trigger cervical, head and neck, anal, vulvar and other cancers. And norovirus recently was identified as a potential driver of
Crohn’s disease.
From Epstein-Barr to Zika, the list of virus-associated chronic ailments goes on.
Millions of Americans infected by the new coronavirus, SARS-CoV-2, are now dealing with its post-acute sequelae, or PASC, mostly known as long COVID, the latest long-term condition to stem from a virus.
We know they’re common; we know they’re annoying, and we know that when it comes to the immunocompromised or the unlucky, they can be deadly. But three years after COVID-19 rocked the world, are we now learning viruses are more of a threat than we imagined? Do they all “go long”?
