A Little Bit of Rain

       I know, I know, it's been several months since I last posted anything on this simple little blog. It seems life and graduate school eat up most of my days. Between classes and interning, paperwork and everything in between, my life is pretty busy. On top of all that, nearly full time work on the days I am not interning keeps me even busier! Who knew a toddler could have so much energy?!
 
       As if life isn't crazy enough, I haven't been feeling well for several months. Last year, in the spring, I found myself battling a case of pneumonia which left me feeling not quite myself ever since. As anyone with a chronic illness could have the tendency to do, I wrote off my symptoms as nothing to worry about. That extra sleep I seemed to need? Maybe it was just the heat as we didn't have air conditioning over the summer. Those pesky headaches? Maybe I wasn't drinking enough or maybe it was the stress of so many life changes at once. Random joint pain and swelling? Surely that was just from the heat. So many little things that were bearable at the time were easily ignored with some effort. It's so hard to know if I'm being paranoid or really sick sometimes.

       Summer soon gave way to fall, and another move took place (the second in a year) and I began grad school. My symptoms soon began to take their toll. They were still manageable, but I knew that their presence was something of a red flag. By Christmas my hair began to fall out more rapidly than it usually did and I noticed swollen glands and a whole host of new symptoms. Getting out of bed in the morning seemed nearly impossible and I just didn't feel right. A trip to a new family doctor to get some blood work completed, barely into the new year,  proved pointless as all the tests came back 'normal.' By spring I became highly suspicious of this wretched Lyme Disease's return. Somehow I lingered in denial, partly because I didn't know what doctor to see and partly because I didn't want to be sick again. If you are unfamiliar with my story and my journey through Lyme disease, feel free to check out my earlier post, Untamed Blessings, for a very brief glimpse into my teenage years when I suffered from this disease. Perhaps sometime I will go back and give more explicit details, but that's a post for another day. At any rate, I didn't want to be sick and perhaps I believed for a moment that if I ignored the symptoms altogether, and trusted the blood tests of the family doctor, then I wouldn't have to be sick. Faulty, I know, but bear with my insufficient logic.

       Spring came and I knew I was sick. All the sleep in the world could not energize me and along with various other symptoms, the pain in my body had reached a new high. I couldn't return to my old Lyme doctor because she doesn't take health insurance - something that is not possible for me to financially handle. After some searching, I was finally informed of a doctor in my area who treated Lyme disease. All I wanted was a blood test to confirm some sort of diagnosis. I had been down this road before, but I was nervous. Finally, in June, nerves and all, I took myself to the doctor. Thankfully he was located ten minutes from my home. The initial consult convinced the doctor of a lyme disease relapse and I think I finally crawled out of denial. That was a hard day. The next two weeks crept by slower than molasses as I waited for the blood work to confirm or deny my suspicions. I already knew what the results would indicate, but I couldn't seem to believe it until I had hard evidence. I knew that if the tests were negative (which can happen with Lyme if the blood work is not sent to the proper lab) my insurance would not pay for treatment. If positive, I could possibly get some help. Let's just say I experienced a bit of anxiety in that time. I knew I was sick again, but the hard evidence would force me to face my fears.

       On July 11, I got the news I knew I would. Blood work indicated that I, once again, was sick with Lyme disease. Hearing the doctor say I was 'positive' was both a comfort and difficult. I was sick again. Hearing him say I needed a PICC line (for IV antibiotics) was even more devastating. I knew I was sick; very sick. I knew that this was the likely course of action, but in that moment when the hard facts met the thoughts that had been rustling around my mind, I suddenly felt weak. I was sick again. After six years of being symptom free, I was about to start my journey through Lyme disease all over again and I didn't want to. I didn't want to deal with everything all over again, but I didn't have a choice. I didn't want to tell people I was sick. I didn't want to admit that I couldn't continue with the load of responsibilities and involvement I currently had. I didn't want to face the reality that I was going to have to rest. I didn't want to be reminded that in the last several weeks my husband became somewhat of a caretaker and assumed nearly all household responsibilities after work when I simply could not function without several hours of sleep to recuperate. I didn't want others to see me as weak and I didn't want to be weak. In the midst of all these fears and unwanted things, I had no choice. The truth was, I was sick and would be for a while. I am sick.

       So here I am...having already begun treatment. Only one week in and it's been such an experience already. I am learning so much about who I am, where my value lies, and where God is in the midst of my suffering once more. This will surely be another journey to recovery, but I feel like I should share it with you all. I've decided, in the next several weeks, while I go through treatment, I will share the raw journey with whoever reads. It won't always be pretty and it won't always be great, but I will share the details of my journey nonetheless. It will be a real telling of suffering, but a even more telling of blessings as they show their faces. I know we will find some blessings along the way, even in the midst of a little bit of rain. 'Til we meet again...