Spring Fever

I had an appointment with my Lyme specialist this morning. I’ve been unbearably nauseous after I take one of my antibiotics fairly consistently now for about a week. As I was throwing up my bagel this morning, I wondered if perhaps I no longer need the meds. The doctor was inclined to agree, to some extent. We’re focusing now on the Lyme, having beaten back the coinfections. At least for now. I’m ever conscious that this is a long process and I’ll likely have to relaunch direct assaults on the little buggers at some point in the future. One more life stressor may knock my knees out from under me, leaving me more exhausted and overrun with invaders than I am now.

But I’m making some headway with cognition and stamina. I’m still greatly fatigued, but when I’m up I can stay up for a little longer. I can concentrate long enough to finish a sentence, if I’m typing. Writing longhand is a gamble, and if anyone interrupts while I’m speaking, the thought evaporates like steam in the inferno of my Lyme-rage and frustration.

The insurance giant who was happy to take my premiums for twelve years have denied my appeal to their denial of my long term disability claim. I am in pain every minute of every day. I can’t stay awake for more than five consecutive hours, and for only a couple of those hours will I be coherent. My short-term memory is a joke. Showering still exhausts me. I can’t walk to the end of the block. I can’t get more than thirty pages into a book without losing track of both plot and character, having to start over again and again. (At least now I can just skim the parts I’ve already read and spark some vestige of memory.) Besides all of that, keeping up with my meds is a full-time occupation.

Who knows what it’ll take to launch legal action against the giant. And while I’m angry, it only flares for a minute then leaves me spent. Most of all, I’m tired. Beyond tired. I have no words for the depth of my fatigue, how overwhelmed I feel. But it is officially spring, and better days are ahead.