something like autoimmune disease or long COVID falls into the third category of illness; it combines biology and biography in ways that are difficult for most of us (whether scientists or laypeople) to conceptualize.

If neurasthenic sensitivity was the hallmark of nineteenth-century invalidism, a kind of hyperpersonalized concern with wellness is the hallmark of twenty-first-century invalidism—a quality that lets the rest of us dismiss the invalid as fussy or oversensitive while we get back to our frenetic, endlessly connected, productive lives.

Concerned about “the thousand intricate problems . . . which perplex those who struggle to-day in our teeming city hives,” the neurologist Silas Weir Mitchell wondered, “Have we lived too fast?” He published Wear and Tear; or, Hints for the Overworked not in 2021, but in 1871. Mitchell is one of the men responsible for diagnosing an epidemic of hys

When I felt off, it was my fault, a sign of some internal weakness, a lack of moral fiber, a crack running through the integrity of my being. “It is hardly possible to take up one’s residence in the kingdom of the ill unprejudiced by the lurid metaphors with which it has been landscaped,” Sontag writes. Indeed: despite all my efforts to think objec

This is the real tragedy of our cultural psychologization of diseases we don’t understand: the ways such dismissals leave patients to suffer alone, their condition turned into a character flaw.

Autoimmune diseases have biological markers, but they come and go, and patients’ flares can be exacerbated by stress. Such diseases require us to think about illness in a more complex way than we usually do, a more complex way than twentieth-century medicine did, since it was, at heart, based on the idea that all bodies respond roughly the same way

What does it mean to have a disease doctors can’t diagnose? Why had it taken me so long to get answers in our hyperdiagnostic age, in which you can get a diagnosis for everything from shyness to sphenopalatine ganglioneuralgia (also known as “ice-cream headache”)?

our bodies may feel autonomous, but we all live in the nexus of radical interconnection. Our bodies are always in communication with other bodies: our immune system is responsive not only to collective health policies but also to the emotions and affects of others. The immune-dysregulated body, therefore, is an embodiment of our porousness to one a

If neurasthenic sensitivity was the hallmark of nineteenth-century invalidism, a kind of hyperpersonalized concern with wellness is the hallmark of twenty-first-century invalidism—a quality that lets the rest of us dismiss the invalid as fussy or oversensitive while we get back to our frenetic, endlessly connected, productive lives.