I thought that once I had been diagnosed and started the proper treatment for Lyme, that my worries would be over. The doctor assured me that luckily I caught it early enough that after two weeks of antibiotics I would be just fine. She said that even if it were not Lyme, the antibiotics would be strong enough to kill whatever it was that I did have. "If you don't start to feel better after about 4-5 days, come back," she said.
The pharmacist gave me the rundown on the precautions I had to take while being treated with doxycycline. Stay out of the sun. Take probiotics. Don't lie down within an hour of taking the pills. I was not to ingest any calcium-- meaning no vitamins, no dairy, and also some of my preferred health-nut foods such as kale, spinach, and certain nuts. I felt like I had to change my diet entirely. Lack of energy to cook and lack of ideas led me to eat like crap for two weeks. I lived off of bread, leftover birthday cake, and pizza (so, I cheated a little). The pharmacist said I could drink alcohol, moderately, so I did that too. I was uneducated. I didn't know that Lyme thrives off of sugar. I didn't know that gluten only intensifies the inflammation in your body, thus making the symptoms worse. I didn't know that alcohol and caffeine are a huge NO! in the Lyme diet.
At that point, I thought that the treatment-related precautions I had to take would be the worst part! I laugh at that thought now.
I also have this problem where I am so dedicated to my job-- at this point I was the manager of one of the most renowned mixed martial arts gyms in the world-- that I still had to work. I had just been on vacation, I had so much to catch up on, I literally had a to-do list with 20-30 items on it. I gave myself shorter shifts, occasionally taking a sick day when I felt like I really couldn't handle it. I delegated tasks, but still found myself being bombarded with phone calls and messages from 8am-10pm, as is the job of the supervisor of any business.. always on call..
None of this helped, clearly. I wonder if I had taken my Lyme disease more seriously, if I had known everything I know now, if I had taken those two weeks off to rest and made the effort to eat properly, if that would have been enough to kill what I jokingly referred to as "the bugs in my brain."
Because, after 4-5 days of treatment, I didn't feel better. I felt worse. My misery peaked around then, where I clearly remember being at work and telling my boss very frankly "I feel like roadkill." Literally. I felt like I had been crushed by that truck that hit me the week before (see previous entry) and was left in the road, half alive, to slowly bleed out and die.
I thought maybe my suffering was a side effect of the meds. On Twitter I wrote about the epic battle between the little orange fighters (doxycycline pills) and the bugs in my brain, turning my body into a desolate battleground.
To make it worse, even though I was taking probiotics, I developed a yeast infection after about a week. Every woman's joy. The pharmacist, who I'm sure must have known me by name by then, told me that since I had another week of antibiotics, I would have to take treatment for the yeast infection for that entire week as well, or else I would likely develop another one again. So I'm suffering from Lyme disease, miserable because of the lifestyle/dietary restrictions I'm under, and on top of all that I have to deal with a yeast infection and the unpleasant treatment that comes with it. I couldn't wait until I finished my last dose of doxycycline.
My actual symptoms were most intense during the first week of treatment. Over time, they evolved. Some symptoms went away, to be replaced with new ones. I wasn't sure what was the side effect of the meds, what was general weakness from my body fighting the infection, and what was the actual Lyme. I thought maybe I was getting better, but I was just so tired. Taking a shower was a chore; washing my hair was a daunting task.
When just the act of driving to work made me fear for my life, realizing that I was too disoriented or too dizzy for this to be at all safe, I had to put my foot down. I decided that I would have to cash in on the rest of my vacation days, because I had to stay home and truly get better. I told myself I would not go to work until I was cured.
Thankfully, at this point one of my best friends offered to drive up to Montreal from Sherbrooke, almost two hours away, to spend the weekend with me and help me out. I live alone, you know. I was just barely able to take care of myself, so it was nice to have someone to feed me and to drive me back to the doctor.
And that is where I leave you for today. Back to the doctor we go, in my next post.
No comments:
Post a Comment