Thank you.

We did it! We spread Lyme awareness for another 31 days. 31 days felt like an eternity this year, but we did it. Yes we. I couldn't have done it this year without you. 

Thank you. 

Thank you for reading. 

Thank you for sharing my posts. 

Thank you for the messages I've received telling me that my blog is making a difference. 

Thank you for telling me that you're reading my blog at all. 

Thank you for telling your friends about it.

Thank you for taking the time to look further than just my blog and learning more than I can explain to you on my own. 

Thank you for asking me questions. 

Thank you for sending me pictures of your tick bite and asking me what to do. 

Thank you for making the days that I didn't feel like writing worth it. 

Thank you for reminding me that I'm not only writing for myself. 

Thank you for caring about yourself and the people in your life enough that you are willing to read my random Lyme-related ramblings every day for 31 days to help ensure that you/they never have to experience it. 

Thank you for helping me help you. 

We're making a difference. 

Thank you. 

Understanding.

When I set out on this blogging journey, one of the main things I wanted to come from it was understanding. When it comes to chronic illness, understanding is hard. To be completely honest, I don't even understand my own situation half the time, and I'm living it. So, it's hard to expect anyone who doesn't live with it to understand, either. 

But, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I don't want you to understand. 

(Wait Leigh, what?!)

I don't want you to understand the pain that I constantly feel. Because to truly understand you would have to be feeling it yourself. I don't want you to understand the struggle of getting a doctor or getting the treatment you so desperately need. Because to truly understand you would have to have experienced it yourself. I don't want you to understand the fear. Because to truly understand you would have to also be afraid. 

And I don't want you to truly understand any of that. Nobody should have to understand any of that. 

What I do want is for you to understand that there are steps you can take to make sure you don't ever really understand. You don't have to feel the pain that I feel. You don't have to go through the doctor struggles that I do. And you don't have to be afraid like I am. 

What I do want you to understand is that all of my issues started with a tiny bug. We are gigantic humans compared to those tiny bugs. They are tough, but we are tougher. 

As long as you understand that they exist, they suck (literally and figuratively), and that you can help yourself and the people around you never have to deal with what they can do...it is my hope that you will never have to truly understand. 

Babesia.

I was thinking today about how to start wrapping up this month of posts, and I realized something pretty important--I haven't mentioned what to do when you know you are sick but you are told it isn't Lyme. So I thought today I'd touch on something else you could suggest to your doctor if your Lyme test comes back negative--Co-infections. Other tick borne diseases. The "siblings" of Lyme. 

I have a couple co-infections, but the one that I have has given me the most issues, and also the one I hear about most frequently, is Babesia. I have talked about Babesia in a post before, but just quickly since the post was about co-infections in general. But I thought I'd go a little more into Babesia specifically since it's something that might help you get the diagnosis you need if you're struggling. 

Babesia, or Babesiosis, is the name for a group of protozoa that infect your red blood cells. (If you are a 90s kid and remember the Zenon movies, I am not talking about the from those when I talk about Protozoa. Though he does pop into my head every time I write it.) 

Once the bad guys are in your red blood cells they travel around your body, and they do it pretty quickly. That's something I have discovered is pretty standard with Babesia--nothing stays the same for long, which can both be both a good thing and a bad thing. The good part is that the symptom that is driving you crazy won't stick around too long before it switches to something else. The bad part is that you never know what it's going to attack next. 

Babesia, though quick moving, is pretty specific in how it affects you. In my experience, as well as in some things I've read about it, these are the symptoms I have encountered pretty regularly:

1. Heart irregularities/palpitations--This happens when the Babesia gets into your heart muscle and makes it go crazy. It can't be fixed with normal heart meds; they only cover up the symptoms. The Babesia has to be eradicated from the heart muscle all together in order to get rid of the symptoms. And, unfortunately, once it's out of the heart muscle it doesn't mean it's not coming back. This is a tricky and scary symptom. 

2. Headaches--Headaches caused by Lyme, Babesia, and other co-infections happen because your brain becomes inflamed and your intracranial pressure increases. 

3. Mood instability--Also because your brain becomes inflamed, tick borne diseases cause things such as severe anxiety, depression, confusion, etc. This can make you feel like you're going crazy when, in fact, your brain is being attacked from the inside out. 

4. Internal cystitis--This means that you have the symptoms of a urinary tract infection, but nothing is cured by antibiotics. A big issue with this one is that the antibiotics you are given for a UTI can cause your tick diseases to flare up. And if you're continually being treated for a UTI, you are continually firing everything up. 

5. Air hunger--This is a scary one too. Air hunger is feeling like you can't get get a full breath. It can feel like your lungs are being squeezed and won't expand all the way, or if can feel like your throat is tight. And sometimes it does both. It can cause a chronic cough. And it can cause panic attacks, which creates a vicious cycle. Air hunger can easily be misdiagnosed as asthma, general shortness of breath, or pneumonia. The treatment for these things can include steroids, which are dangerous for people with Lyme.

If you are experiencing any of these symptoms, and you have previously been told you don't have Lyme, but you know you're sick, ask if you can be tested for Babesia. Before I got my actual Lyme diagnosis, I got a co-infection diagnosis (not Babesia, but another co-infection called Ehrlichia), which then lead my doctors to keep looking for my Lyme. 

It's not a sure-fast solution if you're told you don't have Lyme, but it's worth a shot. 

Anything is worth a shot when you are dealing with this stuff. 

Things I, as your friend with Chronic Lyme, want you to know--part 2

1. I am capable of talking about things other than my Lyme. And I don't want it to be the first thing you ask me about. Ask me about my puppy. Ask me about boys. Ask me about Pretty Little Liars. Even ask me about the weather if you're really stuck. And then later we can talk about my Lyme. 

2. No, I'm not feeling better yet. Trust me, I will scream it from the rooftops when I am. You will know. But until then, just take my word for it--I'm still sick. 

3. Yes it hurts. Yes that procedure I just told you about is as bad as it sounds. Yes I still feel the pain. No it doesn't get easier, you just get used to it. 

4. Telling me about how great your life is doesn't make me feel better. Yes I'm proud of you and the things you are doing with your life. Yes I am happy about your relationship or your new job. Yes I'm excited for you and everything that you're doing. But I also want you to understand that sometimes it's hard for me. We can talk about it sometimes, but please don't talk about it every second of every day. I don't shove my life down your throat, please don't do it to me either. 

5. If I tell you I can't do something, it's because I really can't do it. I will push myself 99% of the time. But if I tell you I can't, or I need to sit down, or I can't hang out, I really can't. I'm not being lazy. I'm not trying to get out of doing something. I just can't always keep up. No matter how much I wish I could. 

6. It hurts my feelings when you leave me out, or leave me behind. Just because I can't do everything you can do doesn't mean I don't want to spend time with you. You wouldn't just leave your healthy friend out, so please don't just leave me out because I'm sick. Ask me what I can do with you. Or even just come hang out with me instead. It's not fun to be left in the dust. 

7. I don't need you to always tell me that I'm strong. Because sometimes I'm not. Just because I've been sick for a long time doesn't mean I'm solid all the time. Sometimes I break. And that's okay. I do my best to be strong because it's the only option I'm giving myself, but I want you to know that I'm not always good at it. 

8. Sometimes I just need you to listen. I don't always want advice. Actually most of the time I don't want advice. Chances are I know what I need to do, or why I'm feeling the way I'm feeling, or how I can fix the problem. But sometimes I just need to talk about it. Everybody needs someone to listen sometimes. I'm no different. I have doctors to tell me what to do, I don't need it from everyone. 

9. Yes I just took a nap, yes I'm still tired, and yes I'm still going to be able to sleep tonight. My kind of tired is not like normal tired. I'm tired down to my bones. I have to rest after taking a shower. I'm on that level of tired. Please don't tell me I'm lucky I get to take a nap everyday. I would give anything to not have to. 

10. I appreciate you. I don't mean to come across as rude, or needy, or snobby. I tell it how it is because sugar coating my situation doesn't help anyone. But I don't think I'm better than you, or more important than you. I know you have struggles too, and I appreciate you caring about mine. I may not always be the best at expressing it when things get tough, but I do appreciate you. 

Lyme doesn't discriminate.

I think I've hit a roadblock on the answers to "how does your Lyme affect you?". So, even though I said I would write about that for the rest of the month, I'm taking that back.

Instead, I thought we could have a little chat about the fact that Lyme, like most other illnesses, doesn't discriminate. You can get it when you're five, you can get it when you're twenty-five, you can get it when you're ninety-five. You can be born with it, or you can get it from a bite. You can get it if you're a boy, and you can get it if you're a girl. You can get it no matter where you live. You can get it no matter what you do for a living, and no matter how you live your life. If you have blood, your blood can get sick. 

You know who also has blood? Famous people. Celebrities. Actors. Authors. Athletes. Politicians. 

Ashley Olsen and Avril Lavigne have recently publicized their Lyme battles. But did you know that there is a long list of other people, in the public eye for one reason or another, who have struggled with Lyme? 

1. Amy Tan--the author of "The Joy Luck Club" 

2. Debbie Gibson--singer/songwriter

3. Daryl Hall--of the band Hall and Oates. 

4. Yolanda Foster--reality TV star 

5. Richard Gere--actor 

6. Ben Stiller--actor 

7. Jamie-Lynn Sigler--actress

8. Jennifer Capriati--tennis hall of fame athlete

9. George W. Bush 

10. Rebecca Wells--author of "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood."

11. Alice Walker--author of "The Color Purple"

12. Christy Turlington--model 

13. David Letterman--talk show host 

And, I'm sure there are even more than that out there who haven't talked about their fight publicly. But I think that list is more than long enough. And more than scary enough. 

While I was researching for this post, I read quite a few quotes from the people on the list regarding their Lyme. But the one that stood out to me the most was from David Letterman. 

He has had shingles, a quadruple bypass, and anaplasmosis/ehrlichiosis (a Lyme co-infection) within a few years. He was quoted on his show as saying that his Lyme/ehrlichiosis was "the worst of the three. I was praying for the swine flu."

...I'm just going to leave you with that. 

Confidence.

I think the hardest answer (and the one I never really talk about) to "how does your Lyme affect you?" is that it has completely zapped my confidence. 

It's hard to feel good about yourself when you feel so bad. It's hard to feel good about yourself when your body is actively fighting against you. It's hard to feel good about yourself when the medicines you have to take turn your body into something that it wasn't before. It's hard to feel good about yourself when getting out of bed is hard enough in itself, let alone doing your hair, or wearing makeup, or anything like that. It's hard to feel good about yourself when the only clothes that don't hurt you are sports bras, loose tshirts, and yoga pants. And it's hard to feel good about yourself while you have to sit and watch your life pass you by instead of doing what you worked so hard for. 

But, you know what does make me feel good about myself? 

Telling you this. 

Because telling you this might help you never have to experience the same thing for the same reason. If you think twice about pulling a tick off and just throwing it away, I will feel a little better. If you make an appointment with your doctor because you feel like something Lyme-like is going on, I will feel a little better. If you even read this and think about Lyme, I will feel a little better. 

Because, after all, the best kind of confidence doesn't come from how you look, or what you wear. The best kind of confidence is the kind you get from doing something good for someone else. And I hope everyday that I can do that for you. I'll hang onto that for now and the rest will find its way back to me in time. 

So, when you ask me how my Lyme affects me, know that it's not only physical. It's not only neurological. But it's also emotional. You can't see it on the outside. But it's there. 

It's definitely there. 

"Some neurological stuff"

When I'm asked "how does your Lyme affect you?" the second answer I will normally give is that I have some neurological stuff going on. Luckily it doesn't normally get to this point in the conversation though, because this one is a little harder to explain that just "I have a lot of pain." 

If I were to go into what "some neurological stuff" means, however, it would go a little something like this: 

Think about a time when you've been the most tired you've ever been. You know how it's hard to think? It's hard to come up with words. It seems like your brain is working in slow motion. You drop things and stumble over things because it feels like your brain isn't connected to your body. You feel like your head is in a marshmallow. You can't remember simple things that you've known your whole life. You forget where you're going. You get lost in places that should be totally familiar. You stare at things that you know you should know, but the name just won't come to you. You feel stupid even though you know you aren't. 

That. That's what it means. 

And that's something I wouldn't wish on anyone. Don't let it happen to you. 

Pain.

For the last week of this month I'm going to break down the answer to the number one question I get all the time--"how does your Lyme affect you?" 

I never know how to answer that question. 

The first thing I always think to tell people is that I have pain. Not because it's the number one symptom that I experience, but because it's the thing that people understand. It doesn't involve a lot more explanation for people to move on. It's the easiest, quickest answer. 

But what I don't go into when I'm asked about it is the fact that I have pain all day. Every day. No matter what. Laying down. Sitting up. Standing up. Walking. It all hurts. 

My skin hurts. My bones hurt. My muscles hurt. My joints hurt. It hurts where my clothes touch my skin. It hurts where my glasses rest on my ears. It hurts if I sit in one position for too long. It hurts if I move too much. It hurts if my eyes are open. It hurts if my eyes are closed.  

There's no way to escape it. 

Ever. 

I so look forward to the day when I wake up and don't have pain. I look forward to the day when I don't have to plan my day around how badly my body is hurting. I look forward to the day that I lay in my bed at night and don't want to cry because of the pain searing through my body. I look forward to the day when I can say "I made it through the pain." 

But for now I'm going to use that pain. 

I'm going to continue to make sure that everyone in my life is aware of my pain. 

Not because I want sympathy. Not because I want empathy. Not because I want anything from you. But because I want it to be known that my pain comes from something scary, something serious, but something that you can do something about. You can do your best to prevent it for yourself and for the people in your life. You can't guarantee that you won't get Lyme, but you can do your best to keep ticks away. You can't guarantee that they won't bite you, but you can take care of it the right way if they do. You can't guarantee that a doctor will give you the right treatment if you do need it, but if you have read my blog and taken the step to educate yourself, you will know what you need to fight for. You can help yourself. 

I can't get rid of my pain. (I'm starting to think it really likes me--it just won't leave.) 

But I can, and will, use it to do my part in making sure you never have to know what it feels like. 

A Confession and Some Thank-Yous.

Confession: this month of blogging has been kind of tough for me. 

I haven't really known what to write that wouldn't be repeating last month's posts. I haven't felt well at all, so a lot of it has been more complain-y than I would have liked it to be. I haven't felt motivated. And I really feel like I haven't given you much in terms of awareness.

But, for some reason you're still reading it. (Or at least you're still clicking on the link and pretending you're reading it.) On the days when I feel like I'm letting my blog down, the view counts somehow keep going up. And I can't thank you enough for that. 

My dad asked me the other day when my blog was going to start making us money. Of course he was kidding, but I have had a couple other people ask me before if I get money from this blog, too. And the answer is no. I definitely don't. But I do get a whole lot out of it that is way better than money. (I mean, if my blog could pay me in Michaels gift cards, that would be ideal. But that's, unfortunately, not an option.) 

Everyday when I click on a blank notes document and I subsequently start feeling like I have nothing of any importance to contribute to my blog or the Lyme world, I think about you. Yes you. The you that is reading this right now. 

What if you have Lyme and don't know it yet? What if you read my blog and something sounds familiar, and you go to the doctor and find out you have it? 

What if you have someone in your life who is suffering and you feel like they're over exaggerating, until you read my blog and see that their suffering is just like mine? What if you can now tell them that you believe them and know their battle is real?

What if you have never even heard of Lyme, but you read my blog and tell your friend about it, and now two more people know that Lyme exists?

What if you have Lyme and are feeling hopeless--not wanting to fight this battle anymore--until you read my blog and know you're not alone? 

That is worth way more than money. (And yes, even more than Michaels gift cards.) 

So thank you. Thank you for continuing to read, even when I can't always give you something profound or pretty sounding. Thank you for giving me a reason to keep writing, in hopes that maybe one of those "what ifs" might actually happen. Thank you for sharing my posts and spreading the word. Thank you for making a tough month of blogging feel worth it. 

Thank you for paying me with your support. 

Under our Skin.

I don't want to talk about myself today. I don't really even want to talk about Lyme today. But, if you have a couple hours, it would mean the world to me--and everyone else who has Lyme, or has someone in their life who has Lyme--if you watched this movie. 

It's called Under Our Skin.

It's a documentary about Lyme--all aspects of Lyme. It talks about the struggle to get a diagnosis, the pressure put on doctors to treat a certain way, the symptoms, the long lasting effects, the hardship put on family members. All of it. 

Here's a link to watch it online: http://youtu.be/2JgR_Jfbhv8

Do yourself the favor. Educate yourself. 

Not for me. For you. 

Facts.

Since the month is getting close to the end, and I haven't done much in terms of Lyme facts this month, I thought I would give you a list of some facts/statistics today. Sometimes seeing things in numbers, and seeing that those numbers are huge, can make you open your eyes a little more to the severity of something. I sincerely hope that is the case for you with these numbers. 

1. Lyme disease is the fastest vector-borne infectious disease in the United States.

2. There are 5 subspecies of borrelia burgdorferi--the bacteria that causes Lyme. 

3. There are 100 strains of borrelia burgdorferi in the United States and 300 strains worldwide. The large number of different strains contributes to its ability to evade the immune system and cause chronic problems. 

4. It is estimated that 300,000 people are infected by Lyme each year. And this number most likely isn't even as big as it should be, due to the unreliability of lab testing. 

5. Since 1992, when significant data was first collected on Lyme, the prevalence has increased 25-fold. 

6. There are 25,000 new cases of Lyme every month, 5,570 each week, 822 each day, and 34 each hour. And, even if those are not completely accurate numbers--even if there are actually more than that--I think they're big enough to be an issue, don't you? 

7. There are 0 accurate tests to determine whether the bacteria has been eradicated from the human body. Zero. 

8. Fewer than 50% of people who are diagnosed with Lyme remember a tick bite. 

9. The average Lyme patient sees over 5 doctors over the course of 2 years before being diagnosed. And because of that, 40% of patients have long term health effects. 

10. In patients who have been treated with only short term antibiotics, 40% relapse. 

I don't know about you, but those numbers don't sit right with me. There are so many smart people in this world. There is so much science and technology available to us. And yet these numbers are still this big. How is that the case? How are so many people in the world still sick? With Lyme, or otherwise. 

It's not okay. 

If these numbers don't seem right to you either, do something about it. Share this post. Read about Lyme prevention. Tell the people in your life about it. 

It's here. It's where you are. It's growing. It happened to me. And it could happen to you. 

Warrior Beads.

Today I received a really cool package in the mail. 

It was my Warrior Beads!

If you've never heard of Warrior Beads, don't worry! I'll give you a little overview before I show you mine. 

The idea is very similar to Beads of Courage and Bravery Beads. They are a way to physically tell your health story and document your journey through a series of beads. There are different color beads for different things, and different shaped beads for some things, too. You receive a big shipment of beads at first, after you tell them how many of each procedure/test/surgery/etc you have been through. Then you request more beads as you need them. Your collection grows as your story continues. 

However, the difference between Warrior Beads and the other bead programs is that you don't age-out of Warrior Beads. The premise behind them is that anyone, at any age, fighting any illness should be able to receive them. And I couldn't agree more. Just because I'm 24 doesn't mean my fight is any more or less relevant or worthy than someone who is 10 or someone who is 75. And just because I have Lyme and other similar things going on doesn't mean my struggles are more or less than those of someone fighting something else.

A battle is a battle. A warrior is a warrior.

So, without further ado (because, let's be real, you clicked on this post because you saw it had a picture.), here are my beads! When I received them we realized we had totally miscalculated a few things, so I'm going to have to request quite a few more of a couple colors. But for now this is what I have! 

When I first started stringing them, I got the weirdest feeling in my stomach. It was so strange to see the things I have gone through over the past few years documented all in one place in front of me. My mom and I sat there and thought through the order of everything so I could string them as close to chronological order as possible, and I kept saying "can you believe I've done all this?!" 

It's bittersweet. 

Part of me looks at them and wants to cry. I'm 24 years old, I shouldn't have been through this much stuff. But then part of me looks at them and wants to throw myself a party. I'm 24 years old, I shouldn't have been through this much stuff...but I made it!

I can't wait to look back at my beads when I'm older and be proud of the journey I went on. But for now, while I'm still very much on it, I will continue to tell my story through my beads and hope that each one I string is my last. And, more so, I will be thankful for each one, because it is one more thing I'm stronger than--one more thing that I've survived. 

 

It doesn't make sense.

I can't write eloquently about Lyme tonight. I can't make it seem like it's okay. I can't write pretty words to make it seem less ugly. 

Tonight my body hurts. My brain hurts. My heart hurts. My insides feel like they're shaking. I was in a room with fluorescent lights earlier today and I'll feel the effects throughout my body until I go to sleep tonight, at least, possibly longer. I can't stop sweating, even sitting in the air conditioning. Words are difficult. And I'm sad for no real reason. I'm sitting in a room with one of my best friends, my mom, and my puppy. I'm watching a show that I love. And I'm in my own home. But I can feel the anxiety creeping up in my chest. The lump is forming in my throat. 

It doesn't make sense. 

But that's the thing about Lyme. It doesn't make sense. 

I'd like to think I'm pretty smart. I always did really well in school. (Besides the four times it took for me to get the history credits I needed in college. But shh, not important.) I've guessed who the bad guy was on Pretty Little Liars successfully a few times. And I'm really good at the wheel of fortune board game.

But, for the life of me, I can't wrap my head around why my body is betraying me. I can't understand why my body is blatantly screaming that it's not okay, yet I'm sitting here with no doctor who can help me. I don't know what it's going to take for the world to see that what I, and so many other people, deal with every day is real. And serious. And just as important as other illnesses out there. 

It makes me mad. And while my anger gives me the push I need to keep going to try and figure it out, that doesn't make it easier. 

It makes me sad. So sad. And there's no way around that. 

Lyme sucks. And sometimes there's no other way to say it. 

If you have your health, please, please don't take it for granted. 

Titles.

A few months ago I got in contact with a doctor who I was told might be able to help me. His nurse told me to send my records and the doctor would look over them and let me know if they could treat me. 

A couple of weeks ago I got a letter back from the doctor. In the letter he explained to me that I have "been mislead" if I've been told that I have Lyme. And that my problems are symptoms of "another chronic inflammatory disease" and that my body "has been very ill for a long time" but not from what my doctor had told me. 

At first I was upset about what I read in that letter. I know the truth. I know that I have Lyme. I have blood work to prove it. I have symptoms to prove it. And I had a doctor who was doing everything he could to help me prove it to everyone who didn't believe it. 

And after you've fought for your truth for so long and then your truth is doubted, it hurts. 

But, then I started thinking more about it and I realized, at this point, I don't care what it's called anymore. I don't care what someone calls it, if they can help me. If you want to call it Lyme, and you can treat Lyme, great! If you want to call it a chronic inflammatory disorder, and you can treat a chronic inflammatory disorder, cool! It doesn't matter what it's called. It only matters to me that I get help.

I'm not going to give up on proving that Lyme is real. I'm not going to give up on helping other people advocate for themselves when they also know their truth but feel alone in it. And I'm not giving up on spreading awareness about what I know matters.

But, regardless of the name of what is sucking the life out of me, it's happening. It's real. And it's ugly. And I need help to fight back against it. 

That's all there is to it.

Back to the basics.

A lot of my posts this month have been specifically about me. And, while it is my blog and most of it is about me, it's not only about me. It's about awareness. So I thought I would kind of go over the basics of Lyme for you again, in case you're new here, or in case you want to send this post to someone who you think might benefit from the information. 

Like I've said many times before, Lyme is different for every single person that experiences it. But there is a general list of symptoms than can be useful in helping to get a diagnosis. Most doctors will not treat based on symptoms alone, but it does help get a picture of what you have going on. 

Here is a basic symptom list:

It is generally said that if you are experiencing 20 or more of the symptoms on the list, you should get checked out. But honestly, in my opinion, if you're experiencing any number of these symptoms with no other explanation, it's worth getting checked out. You never can be too careful when it comes to this stuff. I'd rather you go in to the doctor for five symptoms than go in once you have every symptom on the list because you were waiting to hit a certain number, and then end up being sick for the rest of your life. 

You may be looking at that list and thinking that a lot of those symptoms can be caused by other things. And yes, you're right. I'm not trying to tell you that if you have anything on that list that you absolutely have Lyme. But, I have 61 of the symptoms on that list. And they are all things that have no other explanation. So, if that's the case for you or someone you know (I feel like one of those commercials about receiving compensation for bad drug side effects) it's worth at least thinking about. Lyme is known as the "great imitator" because it does seem like it could be so many other things. But that's why it gets so bad for so many people--they're told so many times that it's something else before they finally get the help they need for the problem that they actually have. 

If that list, and everything I've been telling you about Lyme, seems overwhelming, that's because it is. It's messy. It's confusing. And it's serious. 

But it's also something that can be managed if you are lucky enough to catch it early. And that's why I'm cramming this information down your throat. (Cue medicine side effect commercial again...) If you, or someone you know, can look at that list and see something that sounds familiar, please see your doctor. I know I've sat here and told you over and over how difficult it is to get a doctor to believe you and treat you when you have Lyme, but you can't get anywhere until you try. And the longer you ignore it the worse it gets. 

I would say I'm not trying to scare you...but that would be a lie. I am trying to scare you. I'm trying to scare you into checking for ticks when you come inside, even if you don't think you have been somewhere where you can get one. I'm trying to scare you into going to the doctor and having them remove a tick instead of doing it yourself and risking the tick releasing its toxins into your body. I'm trying to scare you into doing your research if you have symptoms that don't make sense to you. And I'm trying to scare you into standing up and getting the help you need. 

Thinking you might have Lyme is scary. Living with it every single day is a whole different level of scary. Don't let the fear of getting it checked out stop you. It's far better than having the disease itself stop you because you didn't catch it in time. 

If you have questions, ask. If you have symptoms you're confused about, ask. Ask your doctor, ask someone you know who has Lyme, or ask me. 

It matters. Your life matters. 

Gap years.

The other day I was watching a movie that mentioned taking a "gap year." I had never heard that term before, but apparently it's the time between either high school and college or college and real life that you take off to do other things. Most people use it to travel, or work to earn some money, or go on adventures. It's time to figure things out and get things done.

I guess you could say I'm taking a few gap years. 

They weren't part of my original plan. But they kind of forced themselves upon me. I tend to fight the thought of this time that I'm not able to do what I planned on doing with my life. But really, when I think about it in terms of being sort of like a gap year, it doesn't seem quite as bad. 

I'm taking this time to get things done. 

Sure, they aren't fun things. They aren't adventures in the sense that I would want them to be. And the only traveling I'm doing on a regular basis is to and from doctors offices. But I'm getting things done, regardless. I'm working on getting my life back so I can move on. 

So that's how I'm going to look at it from this point forward. It's not going to take the disappointment and frustration away completely. And I can't promise that I'm always going to be able to be positive about it. But a little bit of positive perspective goes a long way in making this life a little easier. 

And I'll do whatever it takes.