An Autistic experience of the impact of Covid-19 infection on sensory processing

[Alexej]

I found this on another website and pass it on, for info
https://www.autismwellbeing.org.uk/...g?postId=dd04be39-89ba-472d-a0e3-62ce853dd39b


I encourage practitioners to consider sensory processing experiences when supporting Autistic people whose behaviour suddenly changes from what is usual for them, and perhaps check whether Covid-19 infection and symptoms related to loss of smell and taste may be the cause.

· By Emma
· Post date 16/12/2021


Background:
I contracted Covid-19 for the first time in April 2020. This required a hospital visit which led to my interest in developing resources to support other Autistic people and their families as part of my professional work as a director of Autism Wellbeing CIC.

I received my two doses of the Covid vaccine during the summer of 2021 and was unfortunate to become infected with Covid-19 for a second time in October 2021. My symptoms of early illness did not present in the expected way.

My most recent Covid-19 infection initially resulted in the common symptom of complete loss of my sense of taste and smell. I have regained about 5% of my olfactory and gustatory processing ability six weeks on from infection.

My professional career has been within social care – developing and delivering services to people who are labelled as having complex needs. My own experience of Covid-19 enabled me to reflect upon some of the potential impacts this could have on other Autistic people, and in particular those who use non-verbal communication or are considered to have “challenging behaviour”.

Interoception – knowing I am ill:
Prior to both infections with Covid-19 I noticed a complete change in my demeanour. I did not feel ill. I did not feel hot or cold – although a thermometer indicated I had a fever. I experienced the sudden onset of severe depression-like symptoms. Fortunately, I am aware of how my interoceptive processing experiences manifest. Interoception is the sense we use to process internal body signals such as pain, hunger, or needing the toilet – and to notice our emotions and the changes they are creating in our bodies (racing heart could mean excitement or anger for instance).

The severity of the depression-like symptoms frequently overshadows my attempts to seek medical help for my physical illness. When I seek medical intervention at these times, my physical illness is typically overlooked, and my mental health is scrutinised – despite me articulately and accurately informing medics that I believe I am coming down with a physical illness. This overshadowing of my physical illness due to putting greater emphasis on the risk management or identification of my depression-like symptoms may prolong my illness as my physical health problems are not treated. It invalidates my experiences and may even create barriers to me seeking support or communicating with medics.

When I consider people I have supported professionally, that are labelled as having “challenging behaviour”, I recognise occasions where perhaps they too may have experienced a sudden change in mood due to a physical illness. Within my work I have observed people exhibiting behaviours such as shouting; biting themselves or others; or running away. These behaviours were considered to be caused by the person trying to communicate that something was wrong and as practitioners we would consider whether this could be something external such as too much noise or the person not wanting an activity to end, for example; or something internal such as toothache or illness.

At times, “challenging behaviour” was interpreted by some practitioners as having an element of intent or wilfulness on the part of the Autistic person. It was sometimes considered that the person didn’t know how to communicate “properly” using speech or sign language or had poor social skills – and therefore chose to demonstrate their pain/distress/urge to leave, by “acting out” and using their behaviour in a planned or possibly even manipulative way to communicate with others.

Where no cause or trigger was obvious to the (usually non-autistic) observer, it was common for the observer to conclude that the person was over-reacting or hyper-responding in some way, and subsequently needed to learn more appropriate coping strategies. My own symptoms of sudden severe depression could look like emotional instability to an observer, and they may well consider me unable to cope with being ill. They may misconstrue that my mood symptoms are a response to my physical illness and not the way that illness manifests for me.

Sensory Processing:
Sensory processing is the process by which the nervous system receives, organises, and understands sensory information. All of us experience the world through our senses and our brains process this information.

Autistic people frequently process sensory information differently to non-autistic people. Our sense receptors (eyes, ears, taste buds and so on) may work perfectly well but there may be differences in the way our brain processes the sensory information. This may include struggling to process too much sensory information or filter out unnecessary information; experiencing heightened, muted, or distorted sensory signals; delays in processing; or perception in one or more senses shutting down, resulting in an incomplete picture of what is happening within the body.

Each of us has a unique sensory profile. But sensory processing does not happen in isolation. Our sensory experiences change and can appear inconsistent to others who do not recognise the dynamic and context specific nature of sensory processing.

Our senses play an essential role in keeping us safe. For example, if food smells rancid, we know not to eat it, and if we feel unstable on a structure, we climb down from it. Sensory information tells us how to act in and adapt to the environment. Sensory processing also plays a role in regulation, activating us to evade a threat or calming us so that we feel safe.

 

[Alexej]

(continued)
Positive and negative aspects of my loss of taste and smell:

• My overall amount of sensory processing was dramatically reduced. This had a calming and regulating effect upon me and reduced distress in some situations. e.g. the lack of diesel fumes and burger van smells made visits to my local town more bearable.
• Food never tasted “off”. This reduced the anxiety I typically experience when food tastes different to usual. I used the best before date to identify whether something was safe to eat.
• Food tasted of nothing – so texture became more intense. I realised that I could never eat broccoli without the “reward” of the taste of it to compensate for the texture!
• I have practiced mindfulness for decades and found that eating mindfully was the best way to cope with my sudden loss of taste. I would put the food on my tongue and notice it without judgment. At first, the only food I could identify in my mouth was mango, due to the distinctive fizz. I am now aware of spices, bitterness, and the saltiness of marmite.
• I recognised how I rely on my sense of smell when cooking. It lets me know when to check if the toast needs turning over under the grill and if food is getting close to being cooked. Without the ability to smell my food cooking, I had to focus on following safe cooking procedures and use a timer or else risk burning food.
• Smell keeps you safe – I no longer felt disgust at cleaning up pet poo, even if I accidentally got some on me! I didn’t automatically recoil from mess or take extra care using bleach or filling the car with petrol as there was no aroma from it and it could have been water as far as I was concerned.
• I can no longer smell the weather and therefore cannot easily identify whether I should wear a jumper or coat. My sense of smell is more effective than my awareness of temperature when processing the environment.
• I use my sense of smell to recognise people. Their sudden lack of aroma made them as difficult to recognise as a radical new haircut or significant weight change would. This created a sense of unease within me.
• I am concerned that I may smell bad, or my home may smell bad.
• I am aware that I would not smell burning so have become extra vigilant about checking things are switched off at night. I recognise that this vigilance could become anxiety, perseveration, and obsession, so I have adopted a sensible routine to manage my safety concerns without escalating them.

Conclusions:
My sensory experiences following Covid-19 infection have reminded me how our senses work together and not individually.

The role of our senses in keeping us safe is significant. Risk taking may not always be due to recklessness, impulsivity, or lack of understanding of risks – it could occur due to sensory differences.

Autistic people may experience the world in a disorganised or chaotic way because our senses work so differently. My typical need for routine and structure reflects this. Since Covid-19 infection, I am aware that I am relying even more than usual on timers, reminders, and routines in order to compensate for my loss of certain senses. To an observer, Covid-19 may appear to have made me “more” Autistic. It hasn’t; but my “normal for me” world has changed, and I am needing to find security, certainty, and predictability in this new world of minimal smell and taste.

If I was supporting an Autistic person who was not able to articulate their experiences, and they had recently tested positive for Covid-19, I would consider how their sensory processing may have been affected. It would not surprise me if some Autistic people needed to increasingly rely on their other senses to make sense of the world if their sense of smell and taste reduced. They may touch things more to identify them using their tactile sense. They may stim more in order to get extra vestibular and proprioceptive input. I’d expect to see more tasting and smelling of items and people; and possibly increased frustration at not being able to recognise them by these methods.

I would also expect to see an increase in repetitive questioning by some Autistic people. I too have a felt a need to check and recheck information in order to seek out familiarity and predictability. I have found satisfaction in the predictable to-and-fro of scripted or familiar conversations and exchanges. Those reliable quotes from films and songs that stay the same each time you hear them! Similarly, I would not be surprised to see people stuck in a loop of thinking, or stimming, or behaving in a particular way – these tendencies are often exacerbated by change and unpredictability and can provide predictability and a self-soothing function.

Moving forwards, I have prepared myself for a potential return of my sense of taste and smell. I am aware that just like the effects of the various lockdowns ending; a sudden increase of sensory information may be too much for my brain to process and result in survival responses of fight, flight or freeze. I plan to stick with my mindful approach to noticing what my senses are picking up, with no judgment and a curiosity that will hopefully enable me to reflect and share my insights.

I encourage practitioners to consider sensory processing experiences when supporting Autistic people whose behaviour suddenly changes from what is usual for them, and perhaps check whether Covid-19 infection and symptoms related to loss of smell and taste may be the cause.

 

[Judge]

Having had what I presume was Omicron last month, I also noted a decrease in my ability to smell and taste. It has come back somewhat, though it doesn't seem as pronounced as it was.

This after two inoculations plus a booster shot last December.

 

[Neonatal RRT]

I experienced my CoVID-19 infection at the end of September of 2020,...pre-vaccine era. I literally thought I might die a few nights there,...sitting on the couch,...couldn't lie down,...couldn't sleep (if I took shallow breaths my oxygen levels would drop and it would wake me up). I had horrible burning muscle pain throughout my body for about 4 days,...no amount of Tylenol or Ibuprofen would touch it,...THEN, I had the respiratory symptoms. I lost about 20lbs, weak, brain fog, short of breath for months.

Even after I was cleared for work, I would wheeze and be short of breath until probably January into February,...and the brain fog lasted until around March. My sensory stuff was pretty bad, but mostly secondary to the cerebral edema that made my head feel like a tight water balloon,...my tinnitus, visual snow syndrome, my hearing,...all on "high alert". I couldn't be in silence because of my loud tinnitus,...but couldn't be around noise because it was like the volume was on "high" all the time. I pretty much walked (shuffled around) with my head down, as little eye contact and verbalization as possible,...and people at work really noticed and would ask if I was OK,...for months.

I've fully recovered, doing well at work and in the gym again,...but that experience totally sucked monkey balls.

 

[Suzette]

I am about 10 days out from recovery from Omicron. My tinnitus is so loud I have to ask my husband to repeat himself. My visual snow is pretty much the same. But sensory wise, I am always sensitive to bright light but it's even worse right now. And my skin, always sensative to too light of touch and detrous like stay hairs, is extra sensative.
But by far the very worst thing is that when I lay down to sleep I am plagued with itches. My scalp will itch. Then I notice my anus is itchy (tmi sorry), then it will be my calves, my eyes, my nose.. Not in that order, most often it is just random. This goes on for hours! I am getting about 4 hours continuous sleep right now. Not quite good enough!