Times like this when I wonder if my treatment has stalled out, or if I’m just being impatient.
I think the breathing episodes from yesterday could have been the result of redirected blood flow to my intestines, even though I didn’t eat a lot. I had a small episode of breathlessness about two hours after last night’s Rifampin, and again two hours after today’s. The culprit was dysautonomia, which has been getting more irritable since this last Lyme flare started, as I mentioned here in reference to the numbness rearing up again. After the digestion stopped, things went back to normal again. I can’t say for sure that’s what happened for three hours yesterday, but it’s worthy of note, regardless. My limbs went numb, and I had physical symptoms of anxiety without the mental anxiety; typical of “the episodes.” It’s like I’m herxing worse, for some strange reason.
Today I’ve been in another limbo. The entire day has been a back-and-forth of “I feel okay” to “I feel horrible.” I wish it would just pick one so I know how to react. This instability is maddening. Right now I’m in one of the bad parts, and my evening headache has arrived so I’m on more Lortab. I need to add ibuprofen because the other one alone does not relieve inflammation and therefore doesn’t do much. My eyes hurt and are sensitive. My neck hurts. It’s been hurting a lot recently, actually. It now pains me to look downward, and I can’t past a certain point, which I noticed today. I halfway wonder if I’m dealing with subclinical meningitis. I mean, if it can happen in syphilis (“A chronic subclinical meningitis (meningismus) is sometimes associated with syphilis“)… There’s no telling what goes on inside you when you have at least three infections in your brain and spinal cord. (Ironically, the next few lines after that quote talk about offering Rifampin as a treatment. The book is about the hidden connection of AIDS and syphilis; in modern days, we’re dealing with another retrovirus + spirochete combination, with XMRV and Lyme.)
It feels like I go through stages with the headaches, as well? Honestly, the strange patterns these diseases take. I go through a spell where I barely have any headaches, and then I go through a few weeks where I get them daily. And back and forth.
You know what I don’t feel the need to do anymore? To say I’m thankful. To remind people that even though I’m frustrated, I do appreciate the things I have. I used to care too much of what people thought, that if I took a moment to explain why I was distraught, someone might take that the wrong way and act like one of my doctors or ill-advised family members, responding with, “You just need a better attitude! Think of the positive!” Well, I no longer feel the need to explain that I always do that, even on the days that I’m frustrated. If I can gain any lesson from days like this, I’ll take that one.
♥ a rainbow at night