Well, if I’m going to take you along for the ride, I suppose you’ll need a bit of background.
My battle with Lyme began in the mountains of Virginia, where I lived with my wife and young daughter. In the summer of 2008 I was teaching an intensive and noticed that my knees were getting sore and my back was hurting. Within another day or two I was as sick as I had ever been. A high fever racked my body. The only way to stop the chills was by sitting in a shower of scalding water. By the time I made it to the doctor’s office, my fever was 104. Thankfully, the doctor at the little walk-in clinic knew his stuff. He took one look at my blood work and said, in effect, “Well, this says you’re as healthy as a horse, but you’re obviously as sick as a dog, so this must be tick-bourne.”
It also helped that while I was sitting in his office, the Bell’s Palsy kicked in. We found the bulls-eye rash later. I spent the next few weeks looking like a zombie from one angle and normal from another. Thankfully, I retained enough control over my eyelid that I could close it. The most annoying thing was trying to go to sleep. The minute I relaxed, POP! that stupid eye would open and I’d have to start all over again. I eventually figured out a way to wedge my eye into the pillow long enough to drift off. For some reason, once I was asleep, the eye stayed closed.
That and biting my freaking lip when I would eat were probably the two most annoying things.
I remember when the fever finally broke. I was sitting in a chair on our cabin with a cool rag on my forehead. Suddenly, I could relax again. No shivering! I finally got some real sleep.
Well, a round of anti-biotics and anti-virals later, I was feeling much better and we thought we were done with it. Close call, that! Move on with life!
(Fellow Lyme Sufferers can allow themselves a snigger at this point! They know what’s coming!)