Sunday, February 19, 2012

Day in the Life

The funny thing about this disease to me is how some days I manage to live a relatively normal life and start thinking to myself, "hey, this isn't so bad" and then just days (or hours) later I find myself shocked that I manage to do anything at all. I've been watching random YouTube videos this week made by other Lyme sufferers around the world describing their lives and symptoms. It's always interesting to see how others describe this experience. It's like having the flu, or a hangover, for years on end. It's like living in a dream, where nothing seems real. You live as a shut-in, rarely (if ever) leaving the house. You are completely dependent on others, except no one understands why.

It is easily the most bizarre illness I think I've ever heard of, because all of these are true. One minute it just feels like a hangover, and then suddenly your vision blurs, you have to lie down immediately, and you wake up on the floor 10 minutes later trying to remember how you got there. Just weird. The other day I was home alone and was trying desperately to think of something to make for lunch. My brain had room for only one thought--bacon--which was of course the one thing I had forgotten to pick up at the store during my last grocery trip. I wasn't feeling stellar, but other than being really tired and a tiny bit dizzy I was okay, so I decided to run to the store. I made it through shopping just fine and was feeling a little proud of myself for being so industrious that day, until in the car on the way home my vision started blurring. Fortunately I was only about 3 blocks from home when it happened and there wasn't much traffic; if the circumstances had been any different I would have pulled over right away until my brain cleared up. I could see my surroundings just fine, but it was like my brain couldn't quite process the images properly. I think habit and instinct took over and I made it the last few blocks home just fine, but as I had to squint to distinguish between the green traffic lights and the red car lights in front of me, it was painfully clear that I should not be allowed to drive when I am like this. Yet, I know of no doctor or government agency that would prohibit it--I'm sure I could pass a driving test just fine most days. But realistically, there are probably at least 2 days out of every week where I know perfectly well I am not well enough to be trusted with a vehicle, or a heated stove, or a lighted candle, or an unchaperoned bath or shower.

This last week, I have been really struggling over what to do with this. My husband is an enormous help of course, but when he works 2 jobs and a 50-60hr work week there is a large majority of time when I am on my own, and even when he is home there is only so much he can do without running himself into the ground. Many days lately I have wished for a full-time caretaker--someone who will cook for me when I can't stand long enough to prepare food (or don't have the mental acuity to be safe around heated objects) and do the dishes so they don't just pile up on the table until I have a day when I'm energetic enough load the dishwasher. But of course just when I start thinking I can't possibly be expected to take care of myself right now, I will have a good day again. I will muster the energy to wash dishes and clean house and even go to work for a couple hours. We will have our small group over and I will spend the evening trying to remember what "normal" people's lives look like and I will realize that my sickness is no worse than what many others deal with, it's just a bit more unique perhaps. This feeling will last a day or two, until another day comes when I almost break another toe because I can't see the chair in front of me, or I knock over the knife block in the kitchen and realize that a few inches difference could have caused really serious injuries, and then I'm back to wondering how I can be allowed to live by myself.

There's really no such thing as a "day in the life" of a Chronic Lyme sufferer; every day is different and brings brand new complications and epiphanies.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

What a Mess

Okay, I know this is way overdue. I wish I had a better excuse than "I haven't felt good"... or actually just any other excuse for variety's sake, but alas, such is my life.

I've had the weirdest and most unexpected issues over the last few weeks. It all really started in the last few days of January. After 6 weeks on most of my new meds and 4 weeks into the antibiotics, during which time I felt mostly the same as usual or maybe a bit better, all of a sudden I found myself in an epic crash. The last time I remember feeling so helpless was in April of last year--during the last two weeks of tax season when I had to spontaneously quit my job--which certainly did not seem like a good sign. I was exhausted, physically and mentally, couldn't get out of bed without extreme effort and pain, and was running a low fever off and on. This lasted about 4 days. Though these symptoms are hardly unusual, it is VERY rare that they are so severe for so long, so after the 3rd day I contacted my doctor about it, just to make sure I didn't need to be seriously concerned. Truth be told, I expected that times like this might happen as part of the treatment, so I wasn't especially worried at the time. Let's face it, no one said Lyme disease would be easy to treat!

However, my doctor responded with more concern than I anticipated and thus began the quest for an explanation. He was worried at first about Steven's-Johnson Syndrome, which is a very rare and potentially life-threatening condition that sometimes presents in Lyme patients or other infections and manifests as a rash (like my detox rashes) and fever. Long story short, we ruled this out eventually, thank goodness! However, the rashes in conjuct with the other symptoms may indicate a liver problem or other issues with the toxin elimination process. (Quick refresher for those who may not remember--while treating an infection with antibiotics, the infection tends to fight back by releasing toxins, fungi, etc into my body, which can cause untold other horrors if not properly treated. A HUGE part of my treatment regime is detox related to address this issue.) They sent me to get some blood tests done to test liver function and recommended that I stop the antibiotics immediately until we could determine what was causing the problem. That's when the real fun started.

As soon as I stopped the antibiotics, I noticed my energy level improve almost immediately. I was able to get up and move around again. I could do the dishes for short periods of time. I still wasn't 100% but I could semi-function again. Unfortunately, while my energy improved, my mental/neurological issues multiplied tenfold. Now, it is normal for me to feel a little "fuzzy" or disoriented, have trouble remembering things or concentrating for long periods, etc. Still, usually I can tell when I'm feeling out of it and I have learned to just not do certain things (like cooking, doing taxes, or trying to communicate) when this happens. When the neurological problems started, it was simple things--I left food in the oven and forgot I was cooking something until hours later, I kept misplacing things I had been using only minutes before, I would forget to eat or take my meds on schedule. But I could tell over time it was getting worse and worse. After burning 3 meals in a row because I kept forgetting I was cooking and almost catching the microwave on fire because I forgot to take the metal fork of my plate, I realized this was getting way worse than ususal. By now, it was the weekend and my doctor was out of the office, so I determined to survive until Monday. One night, it started getting really scary. After feeling jumbled and confused all day, late that evening it was almost as though I could feel my mental fibers snap. I only have vague memories of that night still, but I remember it started shortly after Paul had gone to bed. I was lying in bed with him, hoping maybe I could sleep, and I remember suddenly feeling an inexplicable compulsion to get up. I wandered into the living room aimlessly, feeling completely unable to control my body. There has been one other time in my life that I don't know how else to describe other than to say it felt like some other spirit was possessing my body, and not in a good way. That's what this felt like. I was semi-aware of my actions, but as if I was watching them from some remote corner of my head. I literally spun in circles for several minute (don't ask me why) just because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I started halucinating--dark shadows in the room looked like snakes and eyes watching me from the corners. I completely lost the power of speech. I ended up back in bed (I don't really remember how I got there) and was rocking back and forth, tearing at my clothes. Paul woke up and tried to figure out what was wrong. I couldn't form words. I eventually managed a bizarre sort of baby talk, mostly garbled sounds but every once in a while I could get a single word out. I'm sure most of it sounded like nonsense to him. Something about snakes and circles... I felt like I was being pushed out of my own brain and I was desperately trying to communicate but even I could barely figure out what was happening, and I'm sure I wouldn't know how to explain it even if I could. This is the kind of experience that I have to say unless you've experienced something like it, you will probably have no idea how to interpret what I'm describing. Suffice it to say it was one of the most bizarre and terrifying experiences of my life.

I emailed my doctor on Sunday afternoon (for those keeping a timeline, this was Feb 6th) explaining, as best I could, the whole story, knowing he would get it first thing Monday morning. I was slightly more cogent on Sunday, but still very disoriented, and by Monday all the really scary stuff was gone. I was still a little dizzy and had a lot of trouble concentrating, but I was able for the most part to go about my normal day. We had scheduled an appointment for me to go into the office in Ft. Collins on Tuesday to run more tests. Paul unfortunately got called into a meeting in Colorado Springs that day, but given my shaky mental state I did not remotely feel comfortable driving the distance myself, but a dear friend offered to give me a ride. (Thanks again! ;-)) We ran several tests using the muscle testing method to try to determine what systems and medications were working or not. It was a very informative appointment but it still didn't provide any really clear answers. There are several possibilities that could theoretically explain my bizarre symptoms, including a toxin issue, symptoms from possible coinfections, unusual reactions or allergies to medications, having come down with a new cold/flu/something, or some combination of all of the above. Since the really severe symptoms were gone, for no apparent reason, it was very difficult to really explore what caused them. They gave me some new medications to add (now I'm up to 40 pills/day!) and told me to ramp up slowly with the new stuff and then add the antibiotic back in.

Today was my second day back on the antibiotic. I can already tell my energy feels sluggish and I'm having more trouble with mental focus than ususal. I know this is all part of the process, and I am very encouraged by the way my doctor has responded, still I really hope experiences like this aren't just the way things have to be. I miss my life, even the lame tired version I've been living for the last few years. Right now I'm just praying God heals me quickly. And that I can learn from this whatever I need to.

Here goes...