The irony of Lyme

The bulls-eye rash on my ankle

I hike in the forest and go camping in the deep woods. Yet, I walk down my driveway to check my mail, and that's when a tick latches onto me, bites and gives me lyme disease. That is the irony of lyme.

The rash developed on Saturday and was confirmed to be THE RASH that is evidence of Lyme Disease on Monday. And I am now on Amoxocilin (or however the hell you spell it) and will be on it for the next 3 weeks. Hopefully it will eradicate the lyme from my system or at least prevent me from getting those other awful symptoms. Way back when, in my previous life, I wrote an article about lyme disease and what it can do if left untreated - because not everyone gets the rash. And lyme is often misdiagnosed as something else. So I am thankful I got the rash. Would you believe I feel slightly lucky? At the same time, I am bitter about getting this disease in the first place. And I am trying awfully hard not to feel sorry for myself. Oh how easy it is!

My ankle is now mostly purple, swollen and hurts like hell. But apart from that I feel OK. Of course, this causes me to worry about Cole and Cole getting it through breastfeeding, even though my doctor says they've never told a patient to stop breastfeeding because of Lyme, so it can't be transmitted through the milk. But what of blood transmission? Could it have been transmitted through my cracked nipples? Although I've never seen blood, that's not to say it's not there.  And when I'm not worrying about him having the disease, I worry about the effects of the antibiotics on him. Will it damage his fragile digestive system? But that's me.  I am a worry-wort. I am a mother, and I am my father's daughter. That's how I roll.