Kaleidoscope

Kaleidoscope. It’s one of those words that sounds as absolutely cool and complex as the object it describes. It is light and dark and crazy and fun and color and sparkle and imagination, all tangled up and out of this world. It takes bits and pieces of light and color and creates an experience that takes your breath away.

This color in the dark makes me happy today. When I began my treatment, I half-expected the medication to do its worst immediately. It didn’t. Every day, I’ve been descending further into the black as the drug wreaks its unrelenting havoc on the disease. Every morning, I wake up a little weaker, a little further down the memory lane I pretty much wanted to forget.

I’m scribbling small, scattered thoughts here to remember the days. I know I forget the moments in the brain fog. I forget the things I am thinking, feeling. Sometimes this would be better, but it is so much of my life. There is much I did not write before that I don’t remember now.

Yesterday was a waiting. An “I’m so bored but I don’t feel well enough to move around and push myself” waiting. Today, it is an active “I want to rest.” And I’ll probably do it from bed, instead of the couch. It is strange watching it happen in me. With the drug at work, I feel strong against the disease, but weak against the heightening symptoms. I’m tired, but energized against an enemy. I feel upbeat at the same time I feel dread. It’s a kaleidoscope paradox.

Pete and I were talking yesterday about what Jesus said in Matthew, about the rain falling on the just and the unjust, about treating others the same way God treats us – the same if they are brothers or enemies. This, I think, is the godly sincerity Paul was talking about in 2 Corinthians. And this was God reminding me about walling myself off to brothers only, being the same person to all, and not just to the people I choose.

I am looking for the points of light to mark the dark today.

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Several people have asked about my treatment; I don’t have time or energy to explain much, but I don’t want to leave you hanging, so here’s a short run-down for you.

I am undergoing a 2-3 month comprehensive treatment beginning with an anti-parasitic drug taken in conjunction with several natural treatments and probiotics to break down the mucus protection the bugs put out to preserve themselves. The drug should deal with my coinfections as well as the Lyme bacteria. Once this phase is complete, we will begin to work on immune system rebuilding, and complete the course of treatment with Lymph moving to lessen the toxic burden on my body.

This first phase is the most intense phase of the aggressive treatment, and as it attacks and kills the disease, the die-off causes a herxheimer reaction, which backs me up through my old symptoms in a much shorter progression than I took getting through them the first time. Once I am through this phase, I should begin seeing improvement across the board, and while I will have to take things slowly at first, I should be able to have a more normal life through the rest of the treatment and once it is finished.

One thought on “Kaleidoscope

  1. Sarah

    I absolutely adore this photo. I just had to come tell you that the colors hit me and I wanted to hold onto them today. Here’s me, loving your picture and praying that your treatments do what they’re supposed to do!