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Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Six years later, COVID symptoms linger for many Latino farmworkers in Washington

Farmworkers Jose Leon and Lorena Avalos believe they have long COVID after years of dealing with respiratory issues.   (COLIN MULVANY /THE SPOKESMAN-REVIEW)

The dizziness started while Baldomero Muñoz was working in the blueberry fields of Oregon.

That didn’t stop him. He kept picking.

By the next morning, his head was pounding and his lungs hurt. A few days later, he tested positive for COVID-19 – an illness he says he still hasn’t fully recovered from five years later.

“I still feel like there’s phlegm stuck in my lungs,” Muñoz said in Spanish.

Long COVID among Latino farmworkers has become a recurring story in Washington. According to research from the University of Washington Latino Center for Health, an estimated 41.2% of agricultural workers report long COVID – one of the highest rates compared to other professions. One theory is delayed access to the vaccine because of financial concerns or hesitancy to get the shot.

Christine Jaquish, a physician for Mid-Valley Hospital and Clinic in Omak, describes long COVID as a condition after an individual has had the virus and continues to feel a variety of different and lasting symptoms, despite testing negative.

“The symptoms are still impacting the patient’s daily function, quality of life and ability to return to school or work,” Jaquish said.

‘I felt like my head was about to explode’

Confused, he would watch his mom scoop up dirt, kiss it and give it a blessing. His dad, kneeling on the soil, also would bless every crop they would harvest – corn, pumpkin seeds, pinto beans.

“I was so young when he would do that, so I would just look at him wondering what he was saying,” Muñoz said. “That’s something I’ll never forget.”

Muñoz, now 75, said the connections his family had with nature makes him feel honored to work as a farmworker. He said he writes his own songs about the fields and sings them as he works, even though he can’t write well and doesn’t know how to read.

Muñoz attended school for two years before he was pulled out to work with his dad, he said, earning 18 cents a day.

“I’m inspired by the dirt, the animals,” he said. “Like today, when I was coming from work, I saw the branches and the trees; they almost looked like they were fighting – these things can be poetic to me.”

In 1994, Muñoz migrated from Mexico to Oregon, picking strawberries, and eventually started going back and forth between Oregon and the fields of Pasco for the grape and blueberry seasons. The work is hard, he said, but meaningful.

“Working in the fields is a beautiful thing,” Muñoz said.

That commitment to the fields didn’t change when he got sick in 2021. At first, he didn’t realize how serious his symptoms were.

The day after the dizziness began, he called his supervisor to say he wouldn’t be coming in, assuming he had a cold. Muñoz stayed home for three days before going to the hospital, where he tested positive for COVID-19.

“I didn’t realize it was that serious, but once I knew, I decided to drive to my daughter’s house in Vancouver because I wasn’t feeling well enough to be on my own,” he said.

A few days later, while his daughter was at work, Muñoz said he called her struggling to breathe, feeling like he might die.

“I felt like my head was about to explode and my lungs were failing me,” he said.

Muñoz didn’t work for several months after his diagnosis. Despite home remedies and medication, he continues to feel lingering effects that make daily life, and physically demanding fieldwork, more difficult.

“I used to be a runner, but my legs feel weak now. I can’t run anymore,” Muñoz said. “There are also times, for about 3 seconds, that I forget where I am, and I still feel a lot of phlegm in my lungs.”

Muñoz got the COVID-19 vaccine. But Dr. Leo Morales, professor of medicine at the University of Washington School of Medicine, said symptoms of long COVID have been consistent for Latinos, including those who work in the fields, in part because many were late to access the vaccine – some because of hesitancy, others for lack of insurance and accessibility.

Morales was one of the lead researchers on the University of Washington Latino Center for Health study.

“In Latin America, vaccines are a very well understood strategy. People vaccinate their children, and they vaccinate themselves. However, there is a certain strain of skepticism that flows through the Latino community,” Morales said.

“There’s, you know, ‘The vaccine will give you the disease.’ That’s one concern … but dealing with the complications of lack of vaccines is much more expensive,” he said.

Another study conducted as part of the 2022 California Farmworker Health Study, reports poor living conditions (especially those living in farmworker housing) and high prevalence of illnesses, like diabetes and obesity, can increase the risk of severe COVID-19 and long COVID.

“The health outcomes translates into productivity, parenthood, you know, every form of activity,” Morales said. “The impacts can be significant.”

Years later, breathing problems (and hospital bills) remain

At their home in Sunnyside, farmworkers Lorena Avalos and her husband, Jose Leon, sit at their dining room table one day last month. Avalos fidgets with an inhaler while Leon recalls how the coronavirus landed him in the hospital two years ago. The couple had received the COVID vaccination.

“I’m scared I’ll end up in the hospital again,” Leon said.

Before getting COVID-19, Leon said he was relatively healthy and rarely got sick. Even during the first year of the pandemic, he avoided infection. He said it wasn’t until months after he was vaccinated that he became seriously ill.

“I felt like I couldn’t breathe. When I went (to the hospital), they put a ventilator on me to help me breathe,” Leon said. “And then I ended up in the hospital again a month later.”

After that, he said, doctors diagnosed him with asthma. Then he developed pneumonia.

“I didn’t have any of this before COVID,” he said.

Avalos said she has tested positive for the virus five times and has struggled with breathing problems since her first infection four years ago.

She has also been active in the community through the United Farm Workers, helping organize and advocate for farmworker rights, and has been vocal about the issues farmworkers face.

Avalos said she’s gotten COVID cases just months apart.

“I was getting COVID every few months.”

Both now rely on inhalers to manage lingering symptoms. Because the couple doesn’t have health insurance, they pay out of pocket, despite already finding it difficult to pay monthly expenses. Each inhaler costs about $120, Leon said. Leon also still is paying his hospitalization bills.

“I use (my inhaler) at least three times a week. The minute I run out, I go and get another one,” he said.

According to the Washington State Department of Health, there are approximately 228,588 farmworkers in Washington State today. The Washington State Institute for Public Policy estimates at least 39% of them don’t have insurance.

The COVID vaccine can cost more than $200 without insurance, with an additional administration fee, according to GoodRx.

Last year, a bill was introduced in the Legislature to address health coverage equity, recognizing that immigrants – including many farmworkers – are disproportionately uninsured. The bill would have expanded access for people excluded from federal programs. It was referred to committee in 2025 but did not pass before the session ended.

Legislators this year reintroduced a broader farmworker collective-bargaining bill that would have extended union rights to agricultural workers statewide, but it did not move forward. The bill did not include healthcare provisions.

For now, workers like Avalos and Leon are left managing their symptoms on their own. They say they have changed their diets in hopes of avoiding additional hospital visits and easing their breathing problems.

Muñoz, too, tries to stay active. He walks around town, eats healthy foods and writes lyrics inspired by what he sees in the fields as he migrates across the Pacific Northwest.

He said his granddaughter became a nurse after watching him struggle through COVID-19 and now often advises him on how to protect his health.

“I try to stay active everyday so I can stay healthy and continue working in the fields created by God,” Muñoz said.

This story is part of a reporting fellowship sponsored by the Association of Health Care Journalists and supported by the Commonwealth Fund.