Pilgrimage

Pilgrimage: noun; any long journey, especially one undertaken as a quest for a votive purpose. 

So this being sick all the time thing is definitely a pilgrimage.  It's long.  It's a journey.  It's undertaken as a challenge, albeit involuntarily.  The purpose is to survive and get better.  

And boy, am I feeling the challenge right now.  I had one month of near-well health - energy, hardly any headaches or pain.  It was such a sweet reminder of the goal I'm working towards.  So I started to set my life up again - working, resuming classes, even planning my husband's 30th birthday party.  Then, WHAMMO!  I got sick again.  I am resuming treatment, this time with super hardcore, high dose antibiotics (I was able to get away with relatively low dose before) and I'm doing all the things I'm supposed to be doing to get better.  Only now, I have work, school, and this party-planning to do.  Things were so much easier when I could just stay in bed and be sick.  I have no idea how people do 'being sick' AND work, classes, or any other obligation.  I commend you, true Lyme Warriors, I know you're out there, working hard and being sick and trying to hold it all together.  And in way more dire circumstances than I am right now.

I think at this point, I would rather have less functioning and more pain rather than where I am right now.  I have some pain and some functioning, but not enough to meet all the expectations I've committed to.  Even after already cutting those expectations in half.

I feel totally lost.  Totally inadequate.   I have no idea how I'm supposed to organize the mold remediation that has to be done (oh yeah - did I mention we discovered we have the most poisonous mold and the 2nd most poisonous mold in our house?  This is making me even sicker.)  I can barely get through a 5 hour day at work.  I can barely drive.  I've outlawed myself from driving on the highway because I had some close calls. Apparently I can't even keep my brain on long enough to pay attention to driving.  My dear sweet husband has had a bad year and it's his 30th birthday and I wish I could just keep the details straight and simply plan a freaking party for him.  But I find myself not remembering where we are going, what we are doing, or all these other details, let alone how they all are supposed to fit together.  This is something I normally would be all over and it would be awesome.  He really, really deserves just one fun night.  And I totally wish I could give it to him. 

I suppose it's just time to be honest with myself and everybody around me.  I just can't do this stuff right now.  Not that I won't be able to once I get better (whenever that's going to stick), and not because I am some sort of invalid person.  It's really simple.  I'm just too sick right now.  

On the bright side, once we figure out this mold situation and we get it all resolved, I'll probably feel a ton better, right?  

In the meantime, I'll just keep chugging along and doing what I can.  Counting the blessings that I do have, and trying not to think too much about the rest.  

There.  That felt good to get out.  Now, for the icing on the cake, I'm going to go emotionally eat.  Probably some popcorn. 

Tease

What a tease.  Some of you out there may know that I was able to begin work a few weeks ago - antibiotic-free, relatively symptom-free (well - less symptoms, enough where I could get through an 18 hour a week job anyway).  By and large, it was going quite well.  Until.

Until I spent all last weekend (it's Thursday as I write this - I think) in bed.  It was all too familiar.  Tired.  Headaches.  Stiff neck so stiff it was just roaring, unabating pain.  I spent this whole year that way, if I had the presence of mind, I would have been more upset about it at the time.  

Not long ago, my dear sweet husband moved the couch and discovered mold on the floor.  Black mold.  (Ughhhh)  He then valiantly proceeded to eradicate it and I had the bright idea that we ought to refinish the floors (it had been a long time since that had been done.  We were getting slivers!). WE.  Hahahaha.  (For the record - I really did mean 'we,' and it did start as 'we' before it went to just 'he.'  That super awesome man did the whole thing - sanding, staining, polyurethaning).  

So we weren't sure if I was having an acute mold toxicity issue or maybe it was stress from work, but something put me DOWN and out.

I went to the doctor today and got a glutathione injection as well as a vitamin D injection.   We deduced that it is both - I've got a mold toxicity problem AND the Lyme is coming back.  Great.

I feel so done.  My trained brain (that is - the brain I've trained to be hopeful despite hopelessness, to see the bright side in spite of all the darkness, to seek things to be thankful for  rather than to seek things to complain about) is telling me that 1 year is a phenominally fast recovery.  And of course, naturally a set back is to be expected and even looky-here, we caught things nice and early before I had too much of a regression, so I'm still sittin' pretty and doing well.  True.

But my lazy, strictly reactive brain and feelings are so done.  I am so sad and mad and frustrated that more time, more resources, more energy have to be spent.  And here I was thinking I could host this grand 30th birthday for my husband at the end of the month (who so much deserves it).  Now I get to talk to my boss about taking breaks and working less.  And I get to drop a class again.  And I get to spend a bunch of money again.  

I really do feel like throwing a little hissy fit and just crying and stomping around.  I did some of that today and it did seem to help.  Plus, I guess I would rather be optimistic and happy than grumpy and upset.  We'll see.  Maybe I'll go back and forth for a few more hours today.  

What a tease.  4 weeks of relative freedom from sickness.  But, it ok.  I would rather have had them than not.  

Months of penicillin, here I come.