I’ve been meaning to write this for over a month now, but I’ve never gotten very far on it. Oh, I’ve opened my writing program, dashed out a few lines now and then, but it never felt right. Nothing ever clicked. Nothing ever seemed right. It still doesn’t.

But I’ve decided {albeit belatedly} that this is what needs to be told. This difficulty to write is a symptom. Writing has never come hard to me. This, this isn’t normal. No. It’s a symptom, and I want to have this chronicled, if not for myself then for all those others out there who know what I’m talking about.

I feel as if there is literally a blockage in my brain. The frontal lobe has separated, and I can’t connect the pieces. I feel as if most days all I get accomplished is simply running around after myself picking up the small bits I keep dropping, only that I won’t notice until tomorrow that I really didn’t pick up any more than I missed.

Two steps forward, one back. Two thoughts forgotten, one remembered.

I feel disconnected. My body is telling me things and I’ve lost the decoder key. That’s never good.

I see my LLMD this week. I’m still not sure what I’m going to tell her. Maybe writing this will help me pick out the bullet points, I don’t know. A month ago I didn’t know what to tell her either – other than exactly what she had been waiting for me to say. I told her that I was placing myself in her hands, and she could do with me what she willed.

Of course, I’ve been doing that for over a year. But this is different. I told my doctor that the time has come for me to hand myself over to her. I have no school, no job, limited plans, and an entire year to concentrate on healing myself. I told her that she could throw at me whatever treatment she felt would be best for me and not worry about how the treatment would affect my life. This is what this year is for, I told her.

You should have seen her face.

She knew this was coming, and was she ever prepared. I’m now on a trio of antibiotics which are supposed to be working in unison, as well as an herbal tincture. I won’t get into the specifics of medication names – maybe I will at a later date – but I’m absolutely sure that I’ve gotten myself into exactly what I knew I would.

I’ve opened a door, and walked through it. I’ve committed. This is Lyme Disease treatment, baby; and I’m grateful for it!

At first I was shocked. I didn’t feel a horrible herx. Every day I took my dose in the morning, afternoon, and at night and just waited. I waited to feel something. And I did. Soon, I felt –gasp– better!

Each day flew by. I was making jewelry, rolling paper beads and listing items on Etsy. I was talking to friends. I was doing things!

One morning I felt different, and not in a good way. I spent that day on the couch. I gave myself time. And the next day I was up, feeling great again! I couldn’t understand it – but I wasn’t questioning it. About another week went by before I spent another day completely on the couch. Then, slowly, I began to notice more symptoms each day. Little things piled up.

Cold sweats, heart palpitations, constant, nagging headaches, and brain fog crept up on me until before I knew it they felt normal again.

I’m so, so grateful for those blissful few weeks! They gave me time to feel my feet grow steady under me. I enjoyed them! I was tired, of course, but I was never actually sure whether I was tired from being sick or tired from doing too much because I felt so good. Those are the days I would choose to live over again. When I look back on this month, they are the ones that I remember. I don’t recall what caused me to spend a day on the couch 3 weeks ago. But I do remember getting to listen to live Irish music downtown with one of my oldest friends. I do remember all the jewelry I made, and the family who lovingly supported me whilst doing it. I remember the days that I could cook, rather than the times I was too sick to eat, even though I know both of those things happened. They must have. 

Some of these things I’ll blame on the whole horrible-memory-due-to-neurological-Lyme-disease thing, but I want most of the credit for this to go to the fact that there were just so many more good days than there were bad, and that’s something that I haven’t gotten to say in a really, really long time!

I might be hitting a herx now, but I had some great days before it hit. I think we’re on the right track. And I think now I have a better idea of what I’ll be sharing with my doctor this week.

As far as my blogging goes – look for me. I’m intent on sharing my healing journey with you all, and that involves the ups, and the downs. And I’m telling myself that my writing won’t improve at all by ignoring it. I need to polish the tarnish away, sweep away the cobwebs, and join the land of the bloggers again.

 

In peace & healing,

molly

 

“Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory.”  – Albert Schweitzer

Advertisements