This is a guest post by Katie Hart.
Happy anniversary lyme disease. Here’s to one year of pain. 365 days of every symptom imaginable. 8,760 hours of uncertainty, tears, fear, and anger. 525,600 minutes since I last had energy. Over 31 million seconds since I last felt like a real person. It’s been a year, and it feels like it’s still just you and me, lyme. And I hate you.
I remember who I used to be. I remember the girl that used to get hyper off a shot of chocolate syrup and run rampant around campus like a madwoman, turning cartwheels and lounging on rooftops. The girl that used to backpack around Europe, sleeping under tables in bars on Greek ferries and exploring ruins in the French countryside. The girl that once climbed a mountain in the dark to play baseball with a bag of potatoes and a stick, or who moved to South Korea just because someone heard a rumor that the dance scene was good. The girl that was strong enough to build a teepee in Herrang and work the early morning truck shifts at a retail store. The girl that tried to outdance everyone in DC by setting a record for the most number of days danced in a row.
On October 28, 2012, I was putting on my shoes to go to campus to organize stuff for our big dance competition. I was so excited, I had been practicing hard and dancing almost every day, and I had this feeling that we were going to be amazing. And then I put my shoes on, and my back started twinging in pain and I collapsed on the ground in unimaginable pain. I should have gone to the hospital, except that there happened to be a hurricane imminently arriving and I was scared to go outside in the rain and wind. After a week of lying in bed, I finally went to the doctor’s office, and after testing me for a ridiculously high number of other diseases, my blood work came back positive for lyme.
But, isn’t lyme curable? Continue reading