Lyme Life ~Pits

I cannot adequately describe frightening prospect of not being able to read. The idea that I would not be able to comprehend the basic premise of a bill before the legislature or grasp the message in a book was like being dropped into a deep dark hole, with no crags in the sides with which to climb out. To only hear voices, but not be able to bring my own voice to another’s ideas as I read, was intolerable. Truly, the Lyme life pits!

Lyme Pits

But that was my fate. Last year at this time, I could not read and comprehend what I was reading. Social media wasn’t a problem with its 140 characters and visual cues. I managed to write my blog posts, but with intense labor and at ridiculous expenditures of time. I didn’t trust my own writing and would reread it numerous times over days to make sure it said what I wanted.

A book was formidable. The text on the page jumped around. Unlike on my computer screen, where I could pinch to zoom, I had no ability to control the size or back light or the color. I couldn’t cut and paste phrases or passages to be sure I understood them.

I found my world was so much smaller with failing eye sight. My eyes are still not 100%, but the jumbling and wiggling is much less disruptive. No one can give me a definitive diagnosis, but the Lyme and co-infections can cause optic nerve problems. The lesion in the front cerebral cortex could cause the disruption of the signals that allow for processing the information too.

Some days, it feels like I barely manage simple tasks and yet, with the hand full of meds I take I am so much improved when compared to last year at this time.

Crags to grab

I have read four books this year so far. I have plenty of Lyme symptoms, but the immense battle of irregular thinking and inability to combine thought has mostly resolved. There were times when I stood at the kitchen sink and could not figure out how to wash the dishes.

I remember the sleep depravation of having lots of small children and nearly falling asleep doing dishes. My body would automatically do what was needed, but not last spring and summer. There is no way to describe the feelings of utter helplessness that overtook me when I couldn’t recall how to do basic tasks, things I’d done for years.

Most of the antibiotic, antifungal, antimalarial, and antiviral meds that helped took weeks, if not months to make any difference. Even the anti-inflammatory supplements were very slow to help.

I am so grateful for my doctor who worked collaboratively with me. He believed me. I had been told for most of my adult life that it was all in my head and I needed to see a counselor. While that may have been true in part, it was true in full by July of 2015, when an MRI found that there is brain damage from the Lyme.

Whatever you’re struggling with may seem like that deep hole with no exit. I beg you to keep trying. Find someone who will believe you and work with you to help you.

I heard a story when I was a new mom about a donkey that had fallen into a ditch. The farmer didn’t know how to get him out, so he decided to put him out of his misery and bury him. He got friends to help, but with each shovel full, the donkey shook it off and stomped on their efforts. Soon he packed down the dirt and was out of the hole.

May you shake it off and stomp on the efforts to keep you down. I hope you escape all Lyme life pits.