I used to love fog as a child. I found it mysterious, creepy and fun to play in. Fog has a mind of its own; it comes and goes as it pleases, always leaving the grass with a misty dew. I used to think fog was beautiful, unique and peaceful, but I sure don’t anymore. I suppose it’s not the literal fog I blame, but the fog constantly clouding my mind. I can recall my 5th grade year of elementary school when I first began complaining to my mother about this weird feeling within my head. I tried explaining this feeling to my momma and old family doctor, who I began seeing often. I vividly remember the last day I went to my old doctor.
Health issues grew worse for both my mother and me. We seemed to be stuck in a never-ending daze. I felt like I was stuck in a nightmare, never able to pinch myself awake. I felt like a ghost. I had lost my coloring and went from tan, to pale and yellow.
I started to have many digestion issues and would complain about my consistent tummy aches. It felt good to release all of what I was feeling to my doctor. I was excited time after time to get tests and blood work done. I was especially excited for results hoping that I would get answers.
It was on the last day I went to visit my old doctor that my outlook on the medical industry changed forever. I had lost count of the times I had seen my old doctor, and I was beginning to sense that the answers I needed weren’t going to be given by her. I continued to wait in her office until finally she came in. All negative test results again, and everything appeared to be normal.
She told my mom the news and proceeded to bend down in my face as she said words crushing to my gut: “You’re just depressed, it’s all in your head.” For months and years after this visit, it seemed to be the one and only phrase I would get from doctor after doctor. Why couldn’t they see how sickly and pale I was? All I wanted was a simple answer or diagnosis. All I wanted was to feel alive again.
My mother and I tried diet after diet and it wasn’t until just recently that my mother and I got diagnosed with the life sucking Lyme disease. The results were given to us by our new naturopathic doctor. For what seemed to be the first time, I felt cared for. Although I was relieved, the day I got those test results I was surprised to also feel more scared than before. Now that I had the answers, what was I going to do? It had been a long journey for us already, and now that we had the answers, the next step was treatment.
Since my diagnosis I have been on a few different modes of treatment, along with my mother. More than anything I want to have a chance at succeeding in college. I want my mom and me to get our lives back. Of course, good things only last for so long, and a new problem had risen. Money was too tight, and we could no longer afford for both my mother and me to see our naturopathic doctor. On top of that, other crucial changes would have to be made just so we could afford house payments. I was so afraid because my mother was going to stop treatment, while I would stay on mine. I have watched the life being drawn out from my mother for so many years and to know that I would have to see this again was going to be impossible.
This is where LymeLight Foundation changed everything. I got a check in the mail saying I received some grant money for treatment. Because of this grant, my mom has been able to afford treatment for both of us. It is not possible to explain what this means to me. I want to thank LymeLight not only for the grant money, but for the hope that was beginning to leave me too. Now we have the chance of leaving the life of fog behind. Now we have the chance of living the life we want to live. I can’t wait to help others with Lyme in the future, and to finally feel alive again.