This time last year, we were making the appointment and
arrangements to go down to the States. We made the trip, and came home to wait
out test results and to try to find a doctor nearby who could give us the care
we needed. Six weeks went by, and finally in November of 2011 I began oral
antibiotics to begin chipping away at “the tip of the iceberg” of the many diseases that
riddled my body.
It wasn’t until March
of this year that I was able to get the surgery needed to begin IV antibiotics.
Six and a half months ago. Why does
it feel so much longer than that? A lifetime has passed; we have moved out of
our home, made a new one, and moved back again. I have been sicker than I have
ever been in my life (but for the time when this all began with Meningitis),
and I am SO weary of grasping at straws to create a positive enough update to
keep someone from feeling worried, or sorry, or sad for me; or trying to
reassure others that this is working, that
I am getting better, and that it just
takes time. This disease took up
residence in my body three and a half years ago: it is not that easily
reversed.
Most of the time, I am at peace with my illness; with the
amount of time this is taking; with God’s plan for me in all of this. Even
still, depression looms, a wet, sticky fog that coats anything and everything;
and, when I get tired, or more sick from a Herx reaction, it makes itself all
too painfully apparent. Those times I have to pray especially hard, and work
especially hard at re-making my peace with this. Like all lessons God has for
me, this cycle of lessons--weighed down by depression-- rolls around again and
again, begging me to let go of the life I have constructed in my head; the life
I have already let go of seven hundred times before.
A life of pregnancies, and fresh newborn babies; of
breastfeeding and babywearing and feeling tired from working hard and caring
for someone else. A life of taking care of my husband: dating him, kissing him (on
the lips!!); not to mention being close enough to him to make more babies. I
want a life where I can cook my own meals, and clean my own house, and drive
myself places; one where I can attend play-dates and parties and family events.
A life where I can give back to others in need.
So, when I was at the end of my rope last Friday and asked
my doctor how much longer this would take, I was in no place to accept the
ballpark figure she had for me. I knew she was reluctant to say anything until
we re-tested (in the next few weeks) to see what progress we've made; I’m sure she was
reluctant altogether. False hope is a risky
dish to serve. What we do know is that since the treatment has been so
effective at killing off the Lyme, it has removed the veil which Babesia was
hiding behind. “And if you think Lyme disease is hard to treat...” Well, this
is a really hard disease. This is where my increasing bone pain, and my
breathlessness, and my crazy nightmares that I can’t tell are only dreams (even
half a day after waking from them) are coming from; this is the culprit behind
the seizures, and memory loss, and many other things that just aren’t improving
yet. And depending on treatment, I still have one to three years left to go.
The consolation? (I didn’t want to hear it, but maybe you do...) I won’t be on
IV’s the whole time. I will be getting increasingly better (not better enough
to live my life the way I want to though). The action plan: an increase in
certain meds, and the introduction of an IV antibiotic that will attack the
Babesia. I will Herx even harder than I have been. And I am scared. I am scared
to be so sick I am mentally detached from my family. I already feel so detached
from the outside world (even more so since we have come home, as I can’t push
myself as hard as I could before). I
will be switching my anti-anxiety meds to ones that won't potentially cause
depression as a side-effect, and in turn, will hopefully work together with my
current anti-depressants to give me the boost I need.
I know I will get out of this dark place, because I know that God
will give me the strength I need to keep going. He always does. And maybe this
is too hard for some to read, and I am sorry, and that is okay. Depression is
yucky, and scary, and so is this illness. But the dark times are a reality,
too. So, I am not the poster-child for how to live gracefully and joyfully with
multiple diseases. I am going to be okay with that, because I would rather be
real; I would rather be an example of what this is really like than lie to all of
you. Christ is still my light, and my strength—no matter how angry or hopeless
or sad I get. And He can be for you too. You don’t have to be perfect for God
to use you, or to hear you. I am as broken as broken can be, and if He would only use me, my
life would be fulfilled.
Please pray with me for healing... for a miracle. For the strength
and patience and joy that my family, my marriage, and that I need to weather this. That
God would use this to grow me for His greater purposes and Glory. For everyone
affected by this disgusting illness; and for those who lift me up and help me
fight it. And for a cure.
“Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.”
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.”
~Isaiah 40:28-31
"...God
can still use you. He doesn't look down on you. He looks on you more. The
weakest people have done the most for God, because in our weakness, He is
strong. Don't ever be ashamed of your weakness. God wants you to see the
potential of who you are going to be with His help. He wants to bring beauty
from your ashes and heal your wounded heart. God wants to use you where you
are, as you are. And He promises to carry you on the days you can't see
ahead."
(Barrick,
Linda. miracle for Jen, 2012.)
“Now listen, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to
this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.’ Why, you do not even know what will happen
tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and
then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If it is the Lord’s
will, we
will live and do this or that.’”
~James 4: 13-15
Blessings and
love,
Kate
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