Last year, around April/May-ish, I finally had a diagnosis. I finally had a name to cover all the symptoms that plagued me. Fatigue. Aches. Constant low grade fevers. And oh so many more.
Three doctors before Dr C just told me I was getting older. Or fatter. Or more depressed. Not a single one listened to the sequence of events. I didn’t get sick because I gained weight. I gained weight because I got sick. No one heard me when I told them that I danced. Or that I enjoyed marital arts. Or hiked. Or rode horses.
Three doctors looked at me, over the course of more than 3 years, and saw me as another overweight, almost forty year old woman. They just assumed I was getting lazy and depressed.
Dr C knew better. She listened. And after a few tests, we had our answer: Lyme Disease and co-infections of babesia and bartonella. I was thrilled.
I was thrilled to finally have an answer, because surely, this was curable. The CDC would have you believe that 2-4 weeks of doxycycline will fix you and you’d be right as rain in short order. And I’m here to tell you that the CDC lies.
I’m still not certain how I got bit, or where I got bit, but I have my suspicions. But none of that matters now. All that matters is that at least I’m fighting toward something now, instead of fumbling in the dark.
This blog will cover my journey toward wellness. And hopefully my journey toward becoming another medical professional that I may become another soldier in the fight to get Chronic Lyme Disease recognized by the medical community at large, and help patients down their own path to health.