Lyme Life Monday ~Bridges

Bridges were a regular part of my recurring dreams. There were so many different ones. Crossing them was the trouble. There was usually a sense of progress.

Bridges

One would be a bamboo structure that arched over a stream with its curved, hollow rail and rickety feel, I was certain that it wouldn’t hold me. There was no option in the dream, though. That’s how dreams are.

Another was a huge concrete structure that had been broken somehow, by some catastrophe, a tsunami or an earthquake. I had to get across. In this one, there were other people. Some in the water, some screaming, some helpless, it was chaos.

One more appeared to be a train bridge that extended into a cityscape. It was complicated. I had to climb stairs, more like ladders. It was dark and gray and had gears and sounds of ratchets clanking and squeaking. The feel of the cold steel and smell of oil is real to me even now.

I won’t bore with other examples. There were so many. Suffice to say that the point of the dreams was always in the crossing under various conditions. It’s a metaphor. Our brains are so amazing. The recurring dreams started in my preteen years and became frequent in my twenties. They are rare now, but I still have them.

Bridge=Transition

When I think of all the transitions in life, some tenuous, some chaotic, some painful, some smooth and quiet, I am amazed at how I can immediately think of a dream with a bridge that compliments the experience.

Lyme Disease has been a difficult transition. I was told I had Yuppy flu or chronic fatigue syndrome for years. The Lyme diagnosis was in winter 2015. During the past twenty months, I gave up my job of seventeen years. I was replaced in the volunteer position I’d held. That was a huge blow. Unable to drive, I declined speaking engagements. With no income and ridiculous medical costs, my world got very small. I lost my identity in other ways too. Just staying home and not interacting with people was such a change.

The symptoms management was intense. There were weeks that I moved from bed to chair. A shower took too much energy. I would soak in Epsom salt and baking soda and get exhausted. The pain made any movement overwhelming. I couldn’t read or write at times. The meds! Some helped and some caused more difficulty. The PICC line was an experience. It clogged and had to be replaced, weekly dressing changes, changing meds and pulsing, sending the meds ahead of me when traveling, and the cost. Insurance only pays for four weeks. Mine was five and a half months. Another bridge crossed.

Crossing Bridges

Some bridges will never be crossed. Some have been destroyed. But that’s life, one bridge after another.

Wherever you are on your road with Lyme Disease, try to envision it as a bridge. It may be rickety or on fire or sinking into the water with no clear depth or it may be sturdy and high above any sense of uncertainty.

Whether the bridge is medicines, relationships, financial, symptoms, logistics, all you have to do is cross. It’s not an option. So, relax, take your time. All you have to do is get well. Keep telling yourself that.

I’m praying from here to there.