Four years after the first lockdowns and daily case counts faded from headlines, COVID 19 continues to shape lives in quieter but deeply disruptive ways. For millions of people around the world, the virus did not simply end with a negative test. Instead, it left behind a complex and often invisible condition known as long COVID. This lingering illness challenges how medicine understands recovery, chronic disease, and the long reach of viral infections. In a comprehensive review, Dr. Huda Makhluf of the National University in San Diego, and her colleagues, synthesize what scientists currently know about long COVID and what remains frustratingly uncertain.

Tuberculosis remains one of the world’s oldest and most stubborn infectious diseases, yet the way health systems respond to it is often dogged by modern challenges. Clinics are overcrowded, families must travel long distances, and children with vague or non-specific symptoms are frequently overlooked. For decades, tuberculosis care has been organised around hospitals and specialised facilities, even though the disease itself spreads and takes root in homes and communities. A growing body of research now argues that this mismatch is costing lives, particularly among children. Decentralised models of care, which bring services closer to families and empower community-based health workers, offer a compelling alternative. Recent evidence from multiple settings shows that when tuberculosis care is shifted out of distant clinics and into neighbourhoods and households, access expands with potential to close the current gaps in TB detection, treatment outcomes and prevention that benefit communities and families, including their children.

Science diplomacy, meaning the use of scientific collaboration to strengthen international relations and address shared global challenges, has long been hailed as a force for good. Yet, as Dr. Rasha Bayoumi of the University of Birmingham Dubai and her colleagues argue in their Editorial for a special issue in the journal Frontiers in Public Health, this optimism often masks uncomfortable realities. The practice of science diplomacy has too often reproduced the very inequalities it aims to dismantle, operating within frameworks that privilege powerful nations and institutions while marginalizing voices from the Global South.

For more than half a century, lithium has been one of the most reliable treatments for bipolar disorder. It has given countless people the ability to stabilize their moods and reclaim lives otherwise disrupted by cycles of mania and depression. But lithium comes with inherent risk: its therapeutic range is narrow, which means that the difference between a helpful dose and a harmful one is surprisingly small. Too much lithium in the body can lead to a cascade of health problems, including neurological confusion, tremors, kidney dysfunction, and, though much less well known, potentially dangerous effects on the heart. In a recent publication, Dr. Jeffrey Curran Henson of the University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences, and colleagues, shed light on one of lithium’s most alarming but underappreciated risks: its ability to disrupt the heart’s natural pacemaker, the sinus node. Their case study and systematic review tell the story of a patient whose life was threatened not by the mental illness she had long managed, but by the very medication that had allowed her to manage it. And in that story, the researchers also describe a novel way out: a treatment that avoided the need for invasive procedures and could reshape how we think about emergency care for lithium-related heart complications.

When we think about science, we often imagine a universal language of knowledge in the form of a shared code of numbers, graphs, and precise words that transcend borders. But what happens when the language of science is not the language of the scientist? This is the challenge explored in a recent study by a group of publication professionals from the pharmaceutical and medical communications industries across the Asia Pacific region. The study looked at how researchers in this region navigate the world of English-language scientific publishing. Their findings remind us that words matter, and the language we use can either invite voices into global conversations and knowledge exchange, or keep them out.