Travels To Neighbors

I have arrived! Dun dun dun duh! A momentous moment I truly believed would not come. I am speaking of my arrival, figuratively in half a piece, in New Haven, Connecticut, pretty much as far away from nearly the very west-est of my hometown. But I didn't simply fly from point A to point B, that's too easy for the clever Lyme bugs. They make plane travel out of the question and besides, when the flight crew takes one look at me, they would have turned me away. The biggest problem with the sky is that the virus thrives on tuff conditions, like extreme heat, cold and altitude. The result of a simple and short plane trip would have made me much sicker and weak and therefore unable to get treatment. So we did it old school. My incredibly wonderful aunt & uncle drove me across the continent. No school like the old school, is there?

Obviously living on an island and my failure at learning Jesus' 'ol trick, forced us to take a speedy boat trip to Seattle. We had an appointment with a doctor who I was told was the one. He was closest, and new all about Lyme disease. We rented a small condo near Upper Queen's District, waiting somewhat NOT patiently for the appointment day. When it arrived and the day was done, I was happily sitting in the front seat of our rental, clutching a bulging paper bag of narcotics. My mom and aunt were also focusing on referral slips to others who could offer help. I wasn't worried about the future, or the past or the moment because for each five minutes that past, it seemed to me like they had never happened. My short term memory loss to me is definitely my greatest...loss. I usually have a fantastic memory and was and still am frustrated at my minds inability to focus & remember. So time just began to slip by. I forgot every day, so it seemed like no time at all had past. But we stayed some weeks in Seattle, of which I have no recollection. Perhaps that's a good thing. Perhaps. My body and illness was protecting my mind? I don't see it that way. Not at all.

I saw two more doctors in the Seattle area. The fiance of my original "Lyme Literate Doctor" in Seattle gave me 'pushes' which is an injection of nutrients which I really needed. It wasn't fun, but I needed it, and I'm learning that most of life these days is similar. One doctor who has been truly exceptional and has gone far above her "job" is Dr. Marra. She is a force to be reckoned with and is clearly a passionate woman with a mission and the drive to get things done. Within minutes of being in her office, she was making calls to doctors in San Francisco, trying to get me an appointment with another. And while we drove to California, my home, again seeking medical treatment, she called regularly to check up on me, providing invaluable advice to us. I met with the doctor briefly and was prescribed treatment, but instead of getting worse, then getting better (like a phoenix), i got worse, and worse, and never got a bit better. The doctor was so busy and seemed to have spread himself too thin. Not to say he wasn't a very good doctor. Even though I went backwards instead of forwards in California, I was happy to be home and spend some time with friends. But then we picked it up and drove across the USA to arrive in New Haven, Connecticut for my last stop.

The last stop. Wow. Never thought I would find the official "last stop" after the first few turned out to be rest stops versus final stops. But I'm here and that's what they say matters. I wish I could remember the journey because to me, even though I'm doing nothing, time is slipping away too fast. If I learn nothing else, it is that we must all live for each day, because tomorrow is not promised.