Not Even a Chuckle

Yes, it's been an incredibly exciting time. My book finally came to fruition and is out there, emails are coming in from around the country from people I do and don't know, thanking me for putting words to how they feel but have been unable to express. Between the covers of Twist lie most of the energy I had in 2012 and the beginning of this year.

By now, you all realize that my story is not over just because it has a gorgeous shiny cover and a byline. In fact, my story is far from over. Sometimes I wonder if it ever will be. As you can probably tell from my recent posts and the tone of my writing today, I have been suffering greatly as of late. My pain level has reached a new height and I am now at the point where I cannot be in any position comfortably without the excruciating pain in my sacrum. Having had Lyme for 28 years now, I know what pain is, but this is a whole new level of pain, one which has now brought me to a whole new level of medication.

Having worked with a Lyme Literate Naturopath for many years, I realize that my care must be integrative and that I must take antibiotics. I went the Powerline to the chest route for the better part of 2012 and into 2013. I remain on high dose oral antibiotics. And I continue to have Herx reactions that throw me through the roof. But this new pain, this astonishingly deep pain has me writhing in misery and I have given in and tried a new drug of which I only have a few,  to break through the pain so that I can then get on a cycle of less scary drugs... like Vicodin. Yes, Vicodin has now become the new Aleve. You see, it's not my muscles that ache anymore, it's pain from inside bone and from my spinal fluid. And it scares me.

I don't like having these drugs around, so I don't keep many around. I only fill prescriptions as needed, not ahead of time. And today, well, it was as needed. I don't think I have ever felt so drugged, not even when I had my allergic reaction to Lyrica during that hell week last year when I was slumped over like a rag doll. I don't like feeling this way. I prefer to feel clear-minded, in control so that I can use my positive affirmations and brain power to muster some level of physical, emotional and mental strength. But it is what it is and thankfully, I had my assistant here when I took it because I found it to be unnerving. After a couple of hours of nodding in and out of, I guess, consciousness, I called her up to come and sit with me. She saw right away that I was in a different state than she had seen me in and we talked for a solid 30 minutes until I started to feel myself come out of it and be a little more functional.
While it did break through the pain as promised, I feel entirely shattered energetically, as I often do after a seizure. I am just SO EXHAUSTED now.

I wanted to write while still in this aftermath eight hours after having taken the pill. I wanted to write now because if and when I write about it in retrospect it will definitely be funny and witty and full of wise-cracks, but I want to acknowledge how serious this is and how real it is for me and for so many people out there. I have never experienced such pain for such a prolonged period of time in the same place and I know I am not alone. All of these hours later and I can barely keep my eyes open, I don't feel even the sense of a chuckle anywhere within me, and I don't know when it will stop. This, is the grim reality of where I stand right now in my treatment - on antibiotic holiday, yet still on two antibiotics because I cannot even imagine how I would be suffering if I were taking none at all.

And so while I apologize for the somber tone of this post, I think it is important to share because if anyone finds health in humor, it's me and yet, I cannot seem to find any sense of humor at all right now. And that must mean that I am suffering more than I even realize, because I have never NOT been able to write an entire post without SOMETHING funny to say. And I long for that. I could use a good laugh right now, but instead, I will turn on the alarm and call it a night, hoping the funnies will creep back up on me in my sleep.