Wednesday, 22 May 2013

'Antisocial Means Surviving' : A Guest Feature


 Today I have the privilege of hosting guest blogger, Marie Knuz; an inspiring woman and talented writer; as she begins to lead the caregivers of those suffering through this disease toward some insight in her blog, "A Personal Journey of Lyme: A Guide for Caregivers." Marie has been battling co-infections of Lyme for years; and in her blog, she shares her very candid, honest experiences of what it is like to live inside a mind wrought with Lyme. Her goal is to create a better understanding of patients with Lyme as they fall victim to this confusing disease; how it affects the people they care for; and advice for those who care for them. 


So, without further ado, I bring you:

  
Silence is Golden: 
Why Socializing is so Difficult


Antisocial Means Surviving


Lyme disease and its coinfections, particularly babeisa, are most noticeable in social type settings. Lyme often affects the brain, how we think and how neurotransmissions fire. You will notice that a Lymie may begin slurring words, talking slower, and needing wait time before responding. It takes lots of energy and effort to comprehend what is being said to us, and then to form a response. Sometimes neurotransmissions don’t fire properly, or connect, and then we can’t process at all. In my experience, the fatigue and weakness can be so bad that I not only slur words or struggle to find the right words, but my jaw will even start trembling. This happened after treatment started for me. As the infected blood cells die they release toxins and that makes it difficult to communicate some days.


A Lyme patient does not often benefit from visits or social calls. All our natural instincts to keep a sick person company or spread good cheer actually create more strain and fatigue. If the Lyme patient is fortunate, a recovery is possible and as time passes, socializing becomes possible. But for chronic Lymies, and those with the most severe symptoms, it is not uncommon for only one or two caregivers to be the only human contact.  


In the beginning of my illness, I was really sickened and weakened by weddings, big family get-togethers, and social events. I would help organize such events and be part of the weddings and even help orchestrate community festivals, only to get a migraine and severe bloating the day of the event. All the planning and the behind the scenes work were possible, but when I actually had to visit with people my body reacted violently. Once I started treatments, visiting and social engagements became impossible. Even one on one visits tired me out to the point of needing more meds, more pain killers, and extra hydration IVs. Social and emotional efforts create strong physical reactions.


 This illness is so different from anything else I have experienced, been exposed to, or researched. The babesia causes hypoxia, meaning a lack of oxygen. Can you imagine having to carry on a conversation and be sociable when you can’t breathe properly and your head is spinning? I don’t wheeze or gasp for breath all the time, but it happens. Mostly my organs are fighting for breath. My red blood cells are misshapen and the infected ones are dying, which means not enough oxygen is getting to my brain and heart. This makes visiting quite difficult.


Us Lymies fake it really well. We have had to. People do not easily understand the strain they are putting on us, and why would we want to hurt the feelings of those who mean well and wish to be helpful? It takes great effort to follow a conversation, make eye contact, and respond properly. Every ounce of energy goes into this task, and when the door closes behind the visitor we crash into bed and call the caregiver for meds.     

"It takes great effort to follow a conversation, make eye contact, and respond properly. Every ounce of energy goes into this task, and when the door closes behind the visitor we crash into bed and call the caregiver for meds."



This illness is difficult for friends and caregivers to understand because it is so foreign from other chronic ailments. We do need help, yet often can’t stand having people around. It is such a predicament to need house work done and meals made without talking to the person doing all the work. I found it easiest to post a list of what needs to be done, and then “hide” in the bedroom.


I hate to use the word sensitive, but in my case, and that of many others, sensitivity is another cause of discomfort in social settings. Noise causes me pain, and the sense of being overstimulated. There are some people who are so sensitive that spoken words and music actually are felt, as if the sound waves are crashing into their ear drums and skin. Lyme disease creates hypersensitivity to sound, smell, and sensation. Everything is heightened.


"There are some people who are so sensitive that spoken words and music actually are felt, as if the sound waves are crashing into their ear drums and skin."



I have to say that I never feel lonely or that I am missing out on things. I can spend hours alone during the day and be perfectly happy. Now, I am fortunate. It has only been six months. Those who have suffered for ten, fifteen, twenty years may experience loneliness. I can’t speak for them, but I imagine a contradiction exists in that they are lonely but cannot withstand all the physical and mental requirements of visiting.


I feel best when I am reading, writing, and watching TV. For a few hours each day I can “live” through characters in books. I can feel at home in Stars Hollow or Downton Abbey. I can listen in on conversations without having to respond. I don't have to determine what happens next. There is no pressure on me. I am an observer. Knowing other people are watching the same TV show at the same time gives a sense of community. And as Steven King explains, writing and reading is a bit like time travel. He may have written a book years ago, but at the moment that I am reading it, his words are speaking to me and his thoughts enter mine, and in a way we are together, conversing. If that is a bit weird for you, just think outside the box for a while at all the possible ways to communicate over time and space.

"For a few hours each day I can “live” through characters in books. I can feel at home in Stars Hollow or Downton Abbey. I can listen in on conversations without having to respond. I don't have to determine what happens next. There is no pressure on me. I am an observer. "


One of the other reasons social settings are bad for me or why I freak out if too many people are in my home is because I am immune-compromised. How can I relax and enjoy company when there is not only noise and overstimulation but also germs? I cannot pick up viruses from reading a book or watching TV. But going shopping or having people over always carries the risk of infection. When a person is immune-compromised a social engagement becomes a dangerous activity. Your child's runny nose may pose no threat to you, but to me, it is an invasion of viruses and bacteria that can cause pneumonia or a month-long set back in treatment.


The best we can do for a Lyme sufferer is allow a clean, safe home. A haven in which we feel protected. Caregivers must wash vigorously and even wear masks at times. The home environment needs to remain calm, quiet, and peaceful. When the illness steals everything from a person, it is nice to feel a sense of control over the home environment. Sometimes a one-on-one visit is very welcome, and if it is in my home, all the better.


In the beginning of my treatments, during my weakest months, and now when I have a setback, the best way to express my love to people is through emails and letters. I feel deeply for family, friends, and the community. My capacity to show that care is limited. And at times I fear that feelings have been hurt because I simply can’t attend a function or have people over. All I can do is hope that the illness is blamed and not me. I wish I was eloquent enough to express how draining it is to have company or carry on a conversation. The best I can do is say that it is a bit like being lost after wandering for hours. I am tired all the time, and I can’t quite find the words or meanings. If I could just write my conversation out with you, take my time with it, have a couple hours to edit and revise, then I could communicate better. Writing and reading require different brain functions than speaking. Written words are much different to execute than spoken.

"I feel deeply for family, friends, and the community. My capacity to show that care is limited. And at times I fear that feelings have been hurt because I simply can’t attend a function or have people over. All I can do is hope that the illness is blamed and not me."

If you are the "lucky" one who is deemed access to my home please know I am putting everything into you and our visit. I am not so bad compared to other Lymies. If you are visiting a severely ill person, please give them several minutes to answer a query. A listener must sit calmly and without interruption. Just give the person time to formulate the thought, find the right words, put the words into the right order, and then speak. I haven’t had one of those days yet. My “bad” days are pausing mid-sentence, using the wrong word, or just becoming so overwhelmed that I get dizzy and my brain feels fried. Sometimes I actually think I can smell the frying of wires because of the overloaded neurotransmissions J


In future blogs I will give pointers for how a caregiver can help if company unexpectantly drops in or the Lyme patient needs to endure a waiting room in the hospital. There are some supplements and mindful things that help. But try to keep company and outings to the minimal, and in some cases you must protect your patient from well-meaning “drop in” visits by posting a sign out front saying, “Please don’t ring doorbell” and kindly ask friends and relatives to stay away. You can go visit them but don’t pressure the Lyme patient to do so.


So Lyme makes a person antisocial, but not in the normal sense. It is a survival mechanism. Please don’t push us to do things, or remind us of social obligations. I must say nothing causes me to cringe more than thinking of holidays, parties, festivals and reunions. Take the noise and times it by ten. Take the sensations, either a stuffy room or cold weather, and multiply it. Take the few simultaneous conversations that occur around the holiday dinner table, and throw in about ten more, with heightened volume. It makes me feel like I am looking through a kaleidoscope whilst spinning on a merry-go-round with carnival noises in the background.


If I had read this a few years ago as a somewhat healthy person, I would think “how depressing,” and by “normal” standards I suppose it is. But I am not depressed.  In fact I am quite content, happy even. Lyme changes how a person thinks and feels. We no longer crave the attention from facebook status updates or feel like we are missing out on events. Our experience provides new ways of thinking and new interests. We become quite strong in many ways, despite our physical bodies betraying us. I know my limits and respect them. And what is more important, accept them and find ways to enjoy life.

"We become quite strong in many ways, despite our physical bodies betraying us. I know my limits and respect them. And what is more important, accept them and find ways to enjoy life."

The best advice for dealing with a Lymie friend or relative is to give them the control. If it is a “good” day visit one at a time and leave as soon as the person gets glassy eyed or struggles to speak.  Speak slowly and lowly. And sometimes don’t speak at all. Just having someone around, puttering in the house or doing yard work is a way of communicating. There are lots of ways to be together and express love without actually talking.  And if we do attend a social gathering, don’t worry if we take a breather and sit in a quiet corner alone for a little while. And don’t feel like starting up a conversation or asking questions so that we feel included. My favourite part of any gathering is my ability to sit quietly and just listen in, without the pressure to speak or come up with something witty to say.


In the end, silence is indeed golden.

_________________________________________________________________

I am very grateful to Marie for sharing her blog, and look forward to what she has to post in the future.  I am fortunate to have good days alongside the bad days now; and though they vary each in their own degree, I no longer have the constant feeling of my head spinning, or the need to live crawled up inside a hole. I know I so often wrestle with who I am-- a social butterfly, extrovert, etc; and with what Lyme has done to my social skills. I am excited to feel them coming back in stages, though I still find them confusing and frustrating at times when they still aren't what they used to be. I have rarely had a moment of not feeling lonely, yet so often want to be alone; and almost always wonder, if not worry, at how that affects my relationships.   It is a battle that isn't even understood by one who has it, though I am fortunate that it can, to some degree, be explained. 


More to come! 



Blessings,

Kate




 “On my bed  I remember you;
I think of you through the watches of the night.”
Psalm 63:6



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