Ok, this was a funny day. By funny I mean surreal. After lounging around for about 16 years, wondering if anyone would ever help me, my primary doctor, whom I love and adore, told her nurse to call and ask if I wanted to see a Lyme Specialist, even though she saw my results as negative.
I had been seeing her almost three years (I had worn out my last doctor). I had developed various problems: headaches, vertigo, dystonia, problems with not eating, problems with eating certain things, involuntary movements, swelling, staring spells, speech problems, abdominal pain, skin pigment changes, muscle pain/weakness all along with the ever present need to sit down. You know, it's the list of things that makes the ER doc tired. We had investigated, tried, referred many different tests, diagnoses, specialists. Everything seemed to catch a piece of what I experienced, but nothing made it all make sense. A recent trip to neurology revealed basilar-type migraine, but even he couldn't explain many of my symptoms. So she decided to try for sarcoidosis since I cough sometimes and oh yeah, that lab we sent my lyme test to last year had recommended we re-test. So we did that too. Which led to this phone call last Friday.
She didn't think it was a positive result, but I'd gone everywhere else, so maybe this was worth a shot. She wanted to know who I wanted to see. I did what I always do. I sat down and started googling. I posted on a lymenet forum for doctor suggestions in my area and 3 people responded to see a certain doctor about 45 minutes away. I called on Monday. Scored an Appointment for Tuesday. And away I went to see Dr. Lyme Specialist.
I had spoken with his nurse on the phone (who also happens to be his wife) for about an hour on Monday. I told her some of my history. I told her what the lab results were from IGeneX Laboratories in California. She kept mentioning different things and I kept saying, "I have that!" She was pretty sure the doctor would want to see me the next day at noon.
I came home on Tuesday evening (it was a long appointment) feeling grimly triumphant. I was determined to get the pills, take the pills and then do something different. I told my husband I had been diagnosed with Lyme Disease. I am still waiting for the hearbroken, tearful apology for so many years of being ignored and called crazy. But, it's double-edged because I'm fairly certain I have transmitted the bacteria to him, and that he is sick as well. So, I guess we'll call a truce. And, I'll drag him to the next appointment so he can get tested. Along with my son and possibly my daughters.
Which leads to Wednesday. Wednesday, I cried. I cried and cried and cried. And cried.
Survey: Have you ever put off mourning something until it was completely over?
