If it’s possible to simultaneously feel multiple opposing emotions about sickness, then that is how I would describe myself throughout most of my battle with Lyme Disease. I feel both terribly weak and incredibly strong at the exact same time. I experience a great sense of loss of my former self, but somehow have gratefulness deeply rooted in my heart. I feel depleted in energy, yet have never felt more satisfied in my life. I wrestle with the notion that I am failing in my quest to overcome this illness. At a moments notice however, the tiniest step forward can leave me feeling victorious. I have also known a heart-breaking kind of loneliness, the kind that can only be understood if you are separated from those things and people that you love most in life. Without such great loneliness though, I never would have encountered such a profound sense of love.
In spite of being ill, failing, lonely, struggling, empty and weak, I am still buy soma canada pharmacy lovable. My mind tries to comprehend and my heart attempts to absorb the magnitude of knowing that just simply because I came to be on this earth, I am unconditionally loved. With my merits gone and my vulnerabilities on display, this revelation came to me. Somewhere between fighting for my life and realizing I have a second chance at it, I changed. My core, my spirit, the very deepest places of me, have changed. I now walk this journey equipped with the knowledge that my lowest lows and biggest mistakes are wrapped so tightly in a powerful love of which I will never escape.
Would I have come to understand this truth without my illness? I do not know, but I am thankful for the lessons learned during my most painstaking days. I no longer feel the persistent urge to work harder, try harder or push myself more to heal. Contentment has finally settled into my heart.
After my husband left the house to run some errands, I found myself sitting on the dining room bench. I don’t recall where I had just come from, or where I intended to go. I only know I was drained, so very exhausted. My brained seared badly as if salt were being pored into an open wound. I do know however, that I was sitting on the bench to rest. I often wondered how one could suffer such exhaustion and still have legs that held them up. Alone, resting on the bench, I pondered if a day might come that my legs no longer had the strength to carry me. Would I crumble to the ground? Would I cease to exist? I let my mind wander. Before I knew it, I was enwrapped in my thoughts and staring at the hardwood floor. This was indeed a very bad day.
“Hello. Hellooo.” a familiar voice called up the stairwell. Absorbed in my thoughts and unable to break away from them, I only faintly heard the voice. Suddenly the door opened and in walked my mother.
“Mom! What are you doing here?” I called to her.
I had not seen my mother for almost a year as she lives in Minnesota. Although she had been willing to come much sooner, I had been bedridden for the past four months suffering severe neurological symptoms. I could not tolerate excess noise or stimulation well and repeatedly declined her invitation. I kept hoping that I would spontaneously awake to a better day, week and eventually, a better month. Then, I would have visitors, discuss my short-lived relapse and celebrate being back on the healing path with a nice dinner out on the town. However after several month of declining health, it became apparent that those days were not coming anytime soon.
Knowing I most likely would continue to tell my mom not to come, my husband had surprised me by arranging the arrival of my mother by train for me. My mom briskly walked toward me as I sat on the bench. She hugged my skinny body. With wet, sunken in eyes, I looked at her and said, “I can’t believe you are here!”
Embarrassment flooded over me as the strong , independent daughter she once knew was no longer present. I anticipated it would be difficult for her to see me in this condition and that she would feel powerless to help in this circumstance. I worried I would not have the strength to keep her encouraged. I had always buy legit soma online maintained a positive outlook about recovering from the mystery illness that was believed to be Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, but I had deteriorated so rapidly this time, I was uncertain what the future held for me. Many tears were shed that weekend. Tears from a mother realizing how ill her daughter truly was and unable to relieve my suffering. Tears from me knowing how difficult this must be for her to see me this ill.
I have some recollection of my mom rubbing my back to console me as pain radiated along my spine while I lay in bed. Much of the rest of her visit is a blur. In addition to high doses of sleep medication, endless bouts of insomnia and profound fatigue contributed to a brain filled to the brim with fog. Two days later, my mother returned home.
December, 2013
More than a year had passed since my mom’s visit in 2012. Over that time, there had been many low points from my illness and my mother was able to support me from a distance through phone calls and daily Facebook chats.
It had been suspected that I had Lyme Disease based on clinical symptoms for a year, but tests as recent as this past October were finally able to to confirm it with much greater certainty and I was able to begin a more targeted treatment program as of November. Although progress is slow, I have been able to reach a point of more stability in my symptoms and I was recently able to invite my mother for a 4-day visit to the city.
I am no longer completely bed bound and am able to make short trips out for a few hours at a time once or twice a week. I still have a giant mountain to climb before I reach the top, but even mild progress in a year is worth celebrating. Knowing this, my husband planned a surprise trip for my mother and I to Tiffany’s on Michigan Avenue. We chose to pick out a matching pair of Mother-Daughter Band Rings. My mother is more than just “mom” to me. She is my friend and I am so happy to have had her here with my husband and I over the holidays to celebrate yet another small victory in my Lyme journey.
My dogs have sniffed every area of my house thousands of times over, maybe more. No matter how many times they revisit the same corner or the same front yard, they do so with such a sense of excitement and optimism. Each new day brings buy soma medication online about the potential to discover something amazing. My New Years resolution is to be more like my dogs.
Call me “pragmatic” “a realist” or “unimaginative,” but I prefer a thing to be an actual “thing” or I am just not that interested. I have a pretty black or white stance on this matter. At least I did, until a vibrant pop of red entered into my life last year and changed everything.
Fatigue, insomnia, muscle pain and weakness began to take over my body. My brain and spinal cord burned unceasingly for months, as if I was being torched from within. I spent more hours in the day crying in agony, than not. I was told I had an “unfortunate” case of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromyalgia and Multiple Chemical Sensitivity Syndrome. “It won’t kill ya,” the doctor said, and advised me to begin homeopathy. Sadly, I had grown much too weak to leave the house, now. In fact, I had become bedridden. Sounds, from the low hum of a television, to banging pots and pans and even the softest of voices became amplified 10-fold in my head, beating against my ear drums, as if someone where screaming at me. I frequently retreated to my quiet, dark bedroom to be alone. Days became weeks, weeks became months and suddenly I was a shell of my former self trapped in the only room I could find some refuge. Actually, doctor, I WAS dying slowly and agonizingly.
On a rare day, I emerged from my dark room weary and blurry-eyed. Despite having no appetite I told myself, “You must eat. You can do it slowly, but you must get some food into your system.” I managed to muster the strength to crack two eggs into a frying pan, stand the three minutes required to cook them and walk to our office, whereby I promptly collapsed into a chair. Tears streamed down my cheeks, as I was already well-versed in the misery that each day brought. Today would be no different.
Suddenly, a staccato tweet.
A soft chirp, unlike any I had ever heard, became faintly audible through the window. Curious, I opened the blinds. As my eyes adjusted to the unusual encounter with the sun, I saw the most beautiful shade of red I had ever seen in nature. Not more than 5 feet from me sat a male cardinal perched in all his brilliant glory on the tree tops below my window. Twenty feet to my right, stood his mate on a wood post fence. Although smaller in size and different in color buy soma online 500mg than her male counter part, she was no less spectacular. With her light green feathers, red mohawk and neon orange beak, her uniqueness glowed in the morning sun.
I watched their interactions with wonder and excitement. She would speak to him. He would speak back. In an awestruck moment, a beautiful duet was forming before my very eyes.
Then, they were gone.
I sat back in my chair with my plate of now cold eggs and deeply inhaled. Something felt different inside me, at least for the moment. The tears had stopped, my breathing had slowed and HOPE, hope had appeared in my heart. Two gorgeous cardinals, birds the size of the palm of my hand, reminded me that there was still a world outside my walls to experience and that there was still life inside my very weak body.
Through the window, I began to have daily encounters with these two precious cardinals for nearly a year. They would spend hours in the trees surrounding my house and I could recognize their calls to one another. On a day when my brain and spinal cord were burning less, I could walk down the front steps with the aid of my husband and we would watch this interaction in person. No matter how many times I saw it, I continued to remain captivated by them and experience a sense of hopefulness deep in my soul. As the days began to grow shorter and colder, I worried that I might not see them again. During one of our back office sitings, my husband had his camera ready and was able to capture the male for me in the hopes of keeping my spirits lifted through the long Midwestern winter.
Nearly a year has gone by since I have last seen my cardinals. It seems as though they may have taken up residence in a nearby neighbor’s tree. I was told they lost their babies in one of spring’s torrential storms. From time to time however, I can still hear them making beautiful music together in the trees that surround my house. Although I haven’t been able to catch a glimpse of them, just knowing they are there brings a constant reminder to me that there is always hope, beauty and life even in the midst of the darkest times. A dear Lyme friend reminded me of that as well when I unexpectedly received this sweet gift of encouragement from her.
The last few days, I have been taking a much needed mental vacation from my illness, from obsessing over it, researching it, chatting about it and just non-stop thinking about it. My recently developed philosophy has been to celebrate small victories and re-learn to enjoy my life again. The following images of my birthday and short film following an afternoon with a friend, are some of the most fun days I have had in a very order soma online us pharmacy long time. I may still be ill, and as recent test indicate, quite ill, but I am determined to challenge the notion within myself that I simply can not do or can not enjoy anything anymore.
Below are some photos my husband took during my birthday celebration with just the two of us two days ago.
Below is a Thank You short film for my friend Vanessa.
I have been ill the entire time my husband and I have been married. In fact, my first symptoms began one week after Tom proposed to me. Rather than running away, he chose to embrace me and whatever challenges would lie ahead. Over the years, my illness has been called Interstitial Cystitis, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Fibromyalgia and Multiple Chemical Sensitivity Syndrome. No one really knew why, as time went on, I continued to experience a myriad of bizarre and disabling symptoms. After many years, many doctors and a whole lot of testing, we now know that my symptoms have likely been due to Lyme Disease all along and we are just waiting for the results of some where to buy carisoprodol online specialized blood tests to have our proof.
My husband and I recently celebrated our 7th anniversary. I had been saving up my “spoons” (AKA “energy” by us CFS sufferers) to do something special. There are those, whether it be spouses, friends or family, that will continue to love us even through the darkest of times. I have been extremely ill the last year and a half and it was important for me to celebrate this marriage milestone by reflecting positively on the journey my husband and I have been on together. This short film represents our struggles, but more importantly, that it is possible for love to grow deeper even in the midst of chronic illness.
I have labored for many months on thoughts- thoughts about Lyme Disease, thoughts if I should write a blog and thoughts about what my first post should be about, if and when, I finally decided to write one. No amount of thinking seemed to generate the right words to convey how debilitating this disease has been for me and the many others I have encountered along the path.
It has been said that Lyme Disease is a journey, a marathon. With a stroke of insomnia last night, my inspiration for the first post finally came from a well-known poem:
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning buy carisoprodol soma equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
-Robert Frost, 1916
The character in Robert Frost’s poem stood at a fork in the road and decided for himself which road he would travel. In contrast, I was not so fortunate as to choose my own road…but rather, it was chosen for me. Lyme has become the path I find myself on. Now, I trepidatiously walk the less travelled road of chronic illness. I hope and pray, that although this particular road was thrust upon me, I may still experience the same outcome as Mr. Frost. By taking the road less traveled, whether by choice or by chance, it will have made all the difference in my life.
