I've had many interesting meals at my banquet of life. Before the age of 29 I've changed my religion, got married, had kids, divorced, been a single mom, received my college degree, dealt with in-laws, remarried, dealt with exs in all shapes and affiliations and was diagnosed with Lyme Disease and dealt with the disease during half of what I mentioned.
Yet, Lyme was one of those things I thought I could cross off my list once in my life like "licking a metal pole in winter" kind of deals. You did it, not the greatest experience, but it makes for interesting conversation at a dinner party. But this past Thursday, I was told I was re-infected with Lyme. This time, not from something as dangerous as walking around in my neighborhood or mowing the grass in my backyard (which are the two activities that had me infected the first time). This time, I was re-infected from, get this walking from my friend's front door to my van in the dark.
All kidding aside, I was bummed when I found out. I was diagnosed the first time in 2007. It was a rough journey. Has been and continues to be a rough journey. But I thought, this shouldn't happen to me again. I don't go outside unless I'm protected, I wear all the proper clothing. But this last infection was from me simply walking outside in gravel. I had shoes on. But I guess what I'm saying is, you don't have to be hiking or spending large amounts of time outdoors to get bit by a tick. And have the tick wreck havoc on your system in less than a week.
So I'm on the antibiotic doxycycline, that wretched little blue pill. It's given me the whole nausea and me losing precious things like a finished breakfast when I don't give it enough food to absorb. It's as vicious a taskmaster as the disease itself. I'm wrapping my head around that I'm in for this battle a second time. There must be a reason this is happening again. At least that's what I tell myself as I battle muscle twitches in my hand as I type or getting Charlie Horses in the soles of my feet.
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