Well, I know I have a long way to go to actually get from where I left off in the last post to the present day, but a couple of things have happened recently, and I'm having a hard time focusing on the past right now. So, I'll just go with the present.
Two Fridays ago I went to see a different doctor. Partly because I was so drastically sick and couldn't get in to see Dr. R, and partly because Dr. R. and I have been looking at each other (mostly lovingly) for 6 1/2 years, and I thought that a second set of eyes couldn't hurt.
There isn't a good way for me to explain how I feel every time I try something new. I believe, down to my very core, that this is going to be the thing that works. I think I have my own cheering squad that keeps yelling over and over, "THIS IS GOING TO DO IT!!! THIS IS GOING TO BE THE ONE!!! THIS TIME IS IT!!" So that later, when it seems, inevitably, this wasn't the thing to do it, I am devastated. And lord knows, I'll try anything.
(Weird) things I have tried:
Massage
Reiki
Acupuncture
Cranio-sacral massage
Chinese Medicine
Tibetan Medicine
Having some woman rub crystals over a dried spot of my blood 3,000 miles away (story for another day)
Laying on some machine that is supposed to make your cells vibrate at the right vibration
Raw milk fast
Saunas
Barbara Brennan Healing
Gluten Free diet
Sugar Free diet
Energy healing
Nutritional Supplementation of all kinds
Etc., etc., etc...
So, I went to see Dr. C., also very highly regarded in the field of persistent Lyme Disease. And the whole way there I thought, "THIS IS THE ONE!!! HE'S GOING TO DO IT!!! HE WILL FREE ME FROM THIS!!!" I figured that Dr. R and I must have missed something. That we must be just one small thing away from being able to solve this whole problem.
The gist of what happened was this:
Dr. C: Alessandra, did you really think that I had some trick up my sleeve that Dr. R hasn't already tried?
Me: That's what I was hoping.
Dr. C: We've all learned most of our tricks from him.
Me: So what? No magic wand?
Dr. C: No.
Me: Damn.
And then later:
Me: Do you think Lyme is cure-able?
Dr. C: Oh absolutely. Just maybe not for you. Your case is complicated by the length of time you went without diagnosis, and the fact that you were given a year of steroids and other immune suppressants in the meantime.
Me: Oh.
I couldn't hear anything else the man said. Just maybe not for you. It just keeps ringing in my ears, and brings prickly tears to my eyes every time I think about it. Why not for me? WHY NOT FOR ME???
And to be honest, that's all I want to say about that right now.
But then something else happened last night...
I was flushing my PICC line with saline and heparin, and I got this pain and intense pressure that ran up my neck to my jaw. Great. Seriously? And of course on a Sunday night, too, not a Tuesday afternoon or anything like that. So I called the Nurse on call, and I think to myself, "these poor women, I call them with the craziest sh*t".
So, I explain to the nurse what happened. She sighed, said that she had no idea, and that I should probably go to the ER.
I hate the ER. With a burning passion.
So, I called Dr. R's answering service. I explained what happened, and they connected me right away with Dr. R himself.
Dr. R: Well, hello Alessandra! What's going on?
Me: I just really missed you.
Dr. R: Well, I miss you too. I'm so glad you thought of me on a Sunday night.
Me: I just thought you might be lonely.
Dr. R: You're always so considerate. Is there anything else?
Me: Yes. I flushed my line, and now there's this pain and pressure (okay, I was more specific at the time)
Dr. R: Well, it sounds like the trauma has passed, so why don't you take an aspirin, and call me back in 2 hours.
Me: Okay.
2 hours pass, in which I call my mom, and I can't decide if I'm getting better or not, because I'm freaking out about a clot lodging itself in my brain, and all I can think about is Emily telling me about this woman in Boston who was being treated for Lyme with IV antibiotics who died, because her PICC line threw a clot last week. Sure Mom, I'll just relax...
Dr. R: Well?
Me: Well, I'm not worse. I might be getting better, but I can't tell.
Dr. R: Here's what I think happened. I think you had a mini-clot which is nothing for you to concern yourself over. Here's what it's like, Alessandra (and what follows is why I will always love my doctor the best). It's like stardust. Some stardust falls off of a meteor, and sure it causes confusion where ever it lands, but it turns out, it's actually no big deal. Now, a big fuss would be a meteor flattening people's houses.
(And more doctor/patient talk ensues, wherein we decide that I am not dying, I do not need immediate medical attention, and the best course of action would actually be going to sleep)
I woke up several times in the night, and thought to myself, "thank goodness, I'm still alive". But then it occurred to me each time that I could have had a stroke, and wouldn't know, because I wasn't actually talking out loud, but each time I would fall back asleep before I could get anything out. I am fully functional this morning though, even if I do feel a little rough.
So, between these two things, I just haven't really felt much like talking...
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