Friday, May 27, 2016

It finds a way.

Lyme has this weird way about it. It finds its way into everything. Everything. You can't go anywhere. You can't do anything. You can't talk to anyone. It always comes up.

Sometimes your body is the culprit. You can be going along, minding your own business, and it reminds you in the most vicious way--a stabbing pain, a suddenly numb arm or leg, words you all of a sudden can't remember, blacking out in public, whatever it may be.

Sometimes other people are the ones who bring it up. Sometimes it's because they know you have it; sometimes it's because they have it; sometimes it's because they've heard of it or read about it lately. Whatever it is, there's always the punch-in-the-stomach feeling that comes along with hearing it come up in conversation.

You can't escape. No matter what you're doing. It finds a way in.

Lyme always finds a way.

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