"You know what I'm going to do this winter?" asks my son. "I'm going to go out at midnight when it's snowing and look at the snow. Have you ever done that?"
"Yeah, of course," I answer. "Not necessarily to look at the snow, but I've been out at midnight."
"Really? When?"
"When I had a social life. I'd go out with friends, to parties, whatever, and come back around midnight or even later sometimes."
"Do you still have a social life?" he asks.
Ummm.
I used to be a night person. Stay up late, sleep into the morning. Go out with friends. All that changed when we had kids. And then it changed a ton when our first kid got sick.
I guess I've changed, too. Now all I want to do is sleep, sleep, sleep.
I wear a cloak of fatigue. It feels like one of those anti-radiation, lead aprons, and it weighs me down so that all I long to do is cuddle into my comfy bed.
Still, I run from sofa to basement with its visible black mold (hey, it's a 90 year old house) to throw more laundry into the washing machine, then scoot 2 floors up with a basket of freshly dried clothes.
I forget to turn the basement light out but cannot even imagine walking back down again.
Stress has caught up with me, I know it. Sick kid. Now a second kid with some Lyme bands/symptoms. Struggles with my child's school system. Bills. Teaching the Core Curriculum in another school district and being evaluated based on how my students score on standardized tests. Worrying about a creative, entrepreneurial husband who is home with our sick child when he could be earning more very-much needed money.
I feel burned out. It's hard even to plan to have people over--but fortunately, my husband is a good cook and a good planner (if you're a close friend and reading this, we just don't have people over lately.) I haven't yet cleaned out the front closet. Or the refrigerator. It's summer vacation and time to go to doctors and do chores, as well as time to see friends. I need to relax.
Why the heck is my kid talking about snowflakes? I want big waves and sand!
I went to Jones Beach and got burned. I was so careful to keep my son covered in sunscreen and somehow I missed parts of my own limbs. Oops. I have the weirdest looking tan/sunburn ever. So, yeah, burned and burned out. But my son is doing better. Hallelujah!
Doctor's office called yesterday. Surprise, surprise.
I have Lyme Disease. Me. In a way, it's not totally unexpected. For years, I've been saying, "I'm tired," or "I'm exhausted." I can bicycle many miles. I can push myself to teach and then come home and take care of my children. But I push push push. I always did and I always do. Keep on swimming, keep on swimming.
Really, I must be pretty healthy. The strange Lyme irony is that the sicker one is, the fewer the Lyme bands that show up on a test. So the sickest person will have a Lyme test that is negative. Why? The body is so inundated that it stops making antibodies. The immune system is compromised. It's possible that this is what resulted in my son's autoimmune neuropsychiatric disorder.
Well, my Igenex test is lit up like fireworks. In fact, I'm CDC positive. So, I can't be THAT sick, can I?
Having Lyme Disease myself is all fresh and new for me. I have yet to decide my exact course of action, but more than a year's worth of research has shown me the right path. I'm upset, but more about the finances than about my health. Hey, the symptoms were there already, for a long time. Now I might have some recourse. And I don't have even a quarter of the symptoms many of my friends have. So, except for the fact that I'm allergic to nearly every antibiotic, I'm one of the lucky ones.
About that snow? Not ready. I need to enjoy my summer. Maybe I no longer stay out till midnight, but I still enjoy a good bike ride and a great day at the beach. And instead of snowflakes, I'll soak in the sight of fireflies and fireworks. And get to work on this stupid spirochete.