lymexists

The Awesome Blogger award

I feel absolutely flattered to be nominated! I recently started posting about my chronic Lyme disease that is a battle this is excruciatingly hard and painful; and in this short time I have gotten so much inspiration and strength from fellow readers! I have found so many wonderful people that love to give encouragement to others and I think that it’s lovely!

Thank you, Hidaa Chaudhry for nominating me, I think the love of our blogs are mutual;) and I’d recommend everyone to visit her blog and view her posts. It is absolutely beautiful!

My questions:

If you could travel anywhere, where would it be?

I’d travel back in time. The time of World War Two. I’d love to see the atrocities my ancestors had undergone with my own bloody eyes! It’s good to know about what has happened and I wish I could go back to help out those poor people…

May God avenge their blood!

What is your biggest accomplishment?

Hm, tough one. I guess my biggest accomplishment is helping others out there with Chronic Lyme disease (or any other disease) that they are not alone and giving them advice and support!

What’s the best advice anyone ever gave you?

The best advice someone gave me is that I should dream big with my writing and reach high. That piece of advice had, thank god, bought me many places!

What’s your dream job?

I would like to be a therapist. My dads one. Not because of that, though. I’d love to work with peoples minds and hearts and help them through life. I know it’s data fetched and as of now, out of reach. Yet I havta dream big, dont I?

What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?

Honestly, I’m a bit old fashioned when it aimed to this! I love vanilla. Duh.

What is one of the most amazing blog you have ever come across?

That’s a tough one! I guess positiveAlissa. I think everyone should go check out her blog! It’s amazing how she faces life’s challenges with such positivity and faith!

My nominees:

Rachel’s journal of Rachel’s page

emariem1 of The McCollough blog

Owlelk17 of Storytime with elena

thestubborngirl of The unspoken thoughts

Ruchika of A walk to stressful life

I enjoy your blogs immensely! I am sure that the readers out there will love them, too.

If you wish you can answer the same questions yet your own are definitely welcome!

I wish you, dear reader, good luck and comments are feedback are definitely appreciated!

Diagnosis Day. Lyme Journey!

Part seven:

I waited with bated breath, the world spinning maddeningly around me. I felt my heart beat a wild tattoo as my mind races around quicker than I could follow.

“I certainly am ready,” my mom said, and I heard the undertones of worry in her tone of voice.

For a long while there was utter silence, my mom uttering monosyllables from time to time. My dad listened intently to what my mom answered, and the kids, sensing the situation, all sat still and unmoving.

My mom put down the phone a few minutes later, the pain in her eyes intensified greatly.

“What is it?” My father and I asked in unison, and if it wouldn’t have been so serious we would’ve both laughed.

“The Doctor said that the tests came back positive for Lyme disease and it must be really strong for most of the time it doesn’t show. He says that when we come home,” she paused, thinking, “we will have to start treatments straightaway because he doesn’t want things to become more complicated than than are already.”

The silence was thick, and it was almost as if I could cut it in half. Suddenly, a huge grin covered my face as I started jumping up and down, weakness notwithstanding.

My parents looked at me, worried expressions on their anxious face. They thought that I was going out of my mind, my handling the news of my diagnosis.

“Mom, Dad,” I said excitedly, when I was seated and had relaxed. “Don’t you realize what an excitement this is for me? For weeks I kept on thinking that something was wrong with me and that its all in my head. I never gave myself the credit that something is really wrong because I didn’t trust myself. Now,” I said, inhaling for breath, “I have a diagnosis and everything will start going uphill from now on.”

My childish optimism and naïveté was met with a big smile from my dad. I looked at my mother, awaiting a similar response. All she did was shake her head sadly, as the realization slowly sunk in my heart that this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Sarah,” mom said, looking me straight in the eye, “this is going to be a very hard battle because as I said, the Lyme has already made itself comfortable in your body.”

It hit me suddenly that I had zero clue what my Lyme disease was caused by.

“Mom,” I said, “how did I get the Lyme to begin with. Like, was I born with it or something?”

“No sweetheart, Lyme usually comes from a tick bite, yet we have never seen a bite on your skin since you were born. I suppose though,” she continued, her voice quiet, “that you’ve had this for a long time because since you were little you we’re constantly complaining about pain.”

“But maybe i was just complaining like any other child,” I reasoned, desperately trying to cling onto any form of rescue from this mess.

Mom smiled sadly, shaking her head from side to side. “The symptoms weren’t the regular.”

My shoulders slumped and my jaws dropped as I hid my face in my palms and cried.

◦

“Vacation,” my foot. Lyme Journey!

Part six:

The day passed at snails pace. The days were so long and tiresome. I found myself sleeping lots more than I used to, and the problem was that I was more fatigued the next morning than I have been originally the previous night.

You may find this absurd, yet you’ll have to believe that every I said word is true.

Every year during summer vacation my parents take my siblings and I, to an amazing place to explore God’s beautiful world. My dad does the researching, and after a while he finds a nice place for us to go to and a house for us to stay at for our two week long vacation.

We started packing for our upcoming trip, the kids delighted about the adventure in store for them. The real me was excited too, anxiously awaiting for the fun to begin. Yet the me that has been feeling so sick lately was everything but excited.

Before long I found myself on the plane, our destination Washington State. Throughout the flight I had watched some movies, read a bit, and tried to sleep but couldn’t due to the pounding headache in my skull.

After what felt like an eternity But was only six hours in reality, we finally arrived.

The first day was really an experience. I enjoyed myself immensely with my Mom and Dad, and the kids and I spent some quality time together, too. I felt that I was getting to know my brothers more than I ever did.

We went to some magnificent National and State parks and at some places I found myself glued to the spot, taking in the beauty of God’s astounding world.

My original euphoria quickly wore off as I started experiencing severe nausea, feeling the world spinning around and around… I became extremely disoriented, not knowing where I was or what was happening to me. My usual sharp brain and quick mind was starting to fail me, and the worst part of it all was that I was totally aware of it…

My body ached all over. The headaches and foot pain specifically intolerable. I was totally uninterested in any type of adventure or experience. Yet for my parents sake I feigned interest In topics that have interested me before life changed everything…

My parents saw right through my façade and asked me what the matter was.

I told them all about my suffering. The extreme pain and nausea, accompanied by terrible brain fog and memory loss.

I saw the raw pain in their eyes, seeing their one and only daughter in agony surely was pure torture for them.

One fine day during our vactaion, we were eating out at an upscale restaurant. I couldn’t partake in the delirious meal since I had no appetite, additional to my recent many symptoms.

I remember precisely where I was sitting and what the kids and my parents had eaten.

My moms cellphone vibrated and she picked it up quickly, so I assumed that it mustn’t be your run of the mill telemarketing call.

“Yes,” she said slowly, her voice low and face scrunched up in concentration. “I am Sarah’s Mom,” she said, twisting her diamond ring around her finger.

My curiosity was piqued as I realized that it must be something related to me.

“I would love to hear the results, doctor,” mom said, her voice barely audible it was nearly a whisper.

Dad’s coke dropped to the floor, glass clattering on the elegant marble floor.

I felt my breath getting caught in my throat as I gripped the chair next to me for support.

I closed my eyes tightly, shutting out the world entirely, and prayed.

Fear of the unknown. Lyme Journey!

Part five:

My parents were extremely worried about me, as my mood turned worse by the day and my physical symptoms worsened. After much thought they decided to take me home. It was no use that I was in sleep away camp, feeling physically and emotionally terrible.

At that point I didn’t really think into what was happening to me. All I new was: im feeling bad and please get me out of this sickening state. (Pun intended)

When I can home, I fell into bed. Sleeping and sleeping until my parents started to worry. When I awoke, a good fifteen hours later, my parents were shocked to find that I was still tired!

As the previous days, every part of me hurt with such abnormal force. I couldn’t concentrate on anything properly, and even playing video games made me dizzy.

The very next day we went to the doctor, and at that point, I was petrified of blood tests. I threw a fit while a nurse took my blood, not caring what anybody thought of me.

The doctor said that he would have the results back in approximately two weeks. My mom was devastated, saying that I was withering before her eyes and she couldn’t wait two weeks. It would be too long and too hard for her to wait that long.

Doctor Kohenbash sighed, and being that he was the doctor of the local health center and he knew my parents well, he said that he would do all he can to make the wait shorter.

When we arrived home, I was utterly exhausted. I started crying, all the pain and suffering of the past few weeks taking its toll on me.

My dad came over to me and hugged me tight. Unlike my usual resistance to hugs, I let myself be cuddled and cried into his strong shoulders.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He asked softly, his smooth voice so very soothing.

In reply, I only cried harder, and he pulled me tighter around.

“Tell me what it is,” he said desperately, “I’ll do everything to help you.”

Between my hiccups and tears I managed to mumble: “What is the doctor testing me for, daddy? I’m so afraid.” Again I burst into tears, and as they trailed down my smooth cheeks dad traced them ‘till they were gone. He pulled some wet hair strands away from my face and sighed.

His blue eyes gazed lovingly into mine as he said in a whisper, “We’re gonna do all it takes to make you healthy again, darling, so we’re checking you out for Lyme disease.”

“Will I be sick forever?” I asked in a small, choked voice.

Daddy shook his head from side to side, stroking my hair lovingly.

I looked up at my father, the worried creases on his forehead staring at me angrily.

Tears seized to fall from my eyes as the fear froze on my pretty features.

Summer dreams, Life realities. Lyme Journey!

Part four:

The summer ahead shone in the horizon, vividly displayed and viewed at from all different angles. The sun, which hung low and bright over the New York sky, promised a beautiful experience for all those who basked in its sunshine.

The world was merry, as birds flew about the open expanse of blissful blue, chirping loudly, singing their own kind of summer happiness.

I prepared myself for sleep away camp, the wonderful weather and slight cool breeze, fooling me into thinking that it would be fun. I was already picturing myself relaxing on plush green grass, chatting animatedly with friends, enjoying Gods gift called summer.

In my minds eye I already saw the clear blue water of the pool, as we take a dip in the refreshing coolness, blazing sun burning our skin a fiery red.

I could already envision fantastic sports games. me running… catching the ball… balancing with both feet…throwing it with power…into the hoop… Ditto! The cheers of the crowd eliciting a grin from my exhausted yet happy face.

Those thoughts all were frequent visitors of my mind, and i, In my great excitement could only wait for all my dreams to come true.

Seventh grade summer camp was supposed to be fun, everyone said, and I had all the rights in the world to believe them.

I remember that day when my parents dropped me off to camp. A million butterflies were fluttering around eagerly in my stomach, caged and restless.

I parted from my parents with cheerful good-byes, certain that I’d be so wound up in my fun that I’d forget to miss them that much. I was a hundred percent sure, no, a billion percent sure! that I would have such an amazing time that I wouldn’t want to come home!

The first few days passed in a delightful blur of expected excitement, and I found myself making friends quickly. My charm and strikingly charismatic personality stuck out, and wherever I went I was the center of attention.

I didn’t mind that at all. On the contrary, I was happy that my peers enjoyed my company and that they found me attractive and fun to be around with.

One day I woke up feeling particularly down and grumpy, which didn’t fit well with my usual upbeat nature. I also felt completely drained, as if someone had come and sucked out every drop of life in me. Every joint and muscle in my body hurt, my head throbbing a dull ache, feet stabbing painfully.

Not having much of a choice I got out of bed, and dragged myself to the lunchroom.

I found the day to be extremely monotonous and boring, and when I spoke to my mom on the phone I complained about how I was feeling. I said felt sick and that when I went to the doctor he had said I was perfectly okay. That didn’t make me feel better at all, on the contrary, it made me angry that the doctor said I was fine. I wanted a concrete reason why I wasn’t well.

When I went into bed that night, I was sure that it had been a rough day for me, (well, who doesn’t have a rough day every once in a while?) And that tomorrow would most definitely be a better day.

I fell into a deep sleep the moment my head touched my soft and fluffy pillow.

I woke up the next morning, feeling worse than I have ever felt before. I literally labored for my every breath and the pain I felt the day earlier had only intensified.

And no, the sky wasn’t gray and dark and foreboding, as all the storybooks would certainly say.

The sky was bright azure, wisps of clouds floating about magically. Huge birds flapped their wings eagerly, as the golden sun crept its way upwards. Towards the sky they went, dipping into the clouds as if it were a lovely piece of candy.

That day I went about my life, a shadow of my former lively self.

Performance fiasco. Lyme Journey!

Part three:

The trouble started out during the seventh grade.

In the middle of the year i had been taken, as a special privilege and honor, to sing at a certain school production. Quite obviously, I was thrilled by the suggestion and I started studying the song I had to sing on stage.

By nature I am a very confident person, and I had the full belief in myself that I would do an outstanding job, as usual. Yet every time I started studying the appointed lines, it were as if my mind were switched off and my memory would go totally blank…

At first i wasn’t thrown off by my poor memory. As time went by however, I realized that no matter how much I was going to study, it wouldn’t go into my head. A night before the performance I was panicking, having zero clue how I was going to step on stage the next morning.

My parents were equally perturbed, having no clue what was happening to their brilliant daughter all of a sudden. They tried helping me memorize the lines of the song, yet my mind didn’t agree with my desires.

The next day I steeped onto stage, my heart beating wildly in its rib cage. I was suddenly stricken: what on earth am I thinking? I had taken along a piece of paper with me so I could look into it.

While I was singing, my eyes on the audience and my paper, my pride and joy all but swallowed up in the sea of shame. I was so embarrassed, and felt like such a huge fool that I was. “What’s happened, Sarah?” I reprimanded myself, “snap out of this and go back to your regular self!”

No amount of blaming myself did the job, and so passed the performance, I turning out to be the talk of town…

“What happened to her?,” everyone wondered, whispering behind my back when they thought I couldn’t hear.

“Why did she sing on stage, looking into a paper, doesn’t she have brains?”

Those comments tore my heart to pieces, pain oozing out like blood. And silently, In the place where no one could hear, in one of the many crevices of my heart, I wondered what happened to myself, too…

Childhood. Lyme Journey!

Part one:

I was your regular child. Perhaps even “not so regular” since I had everything a girl could dream of.

My friends always envied me, and most of the time it irked me terribly. Like, do people really believe that my life is a bed of roses? Yet at that point, I really did have everything, and I was one lucky little girl.

My parents were well to do, and I was the only child at the time, and they were ready to give me the world if I’d let them into mine…

I did.

I was doted on nearly the entire day, being that I was my parents’ entire world. They loved me with boundless love that only parents could feel for there child.

The thing was that I was an extremely charismatic child. I won everyone’s heart by flashing one of my sunny smiles. Everyone loved me. My teachers in school throughout the years always pointed out that I had an abnormal impact on the class, and I had to use my power wisely.

I always regarded these comments with scorn, since I really didn’t notice how I could affect others so drastically.

I was, without quite being labeled, the “queen of the class.” And as the years wore on and I grew up, so did my charisma and charm.

I had that way of talking that drew the girls to me. I had that certain air about myself that screamed “confidence,” and everyone loved me for that. I had a certain way with words, a spark of enthusiasm that were always imbibed in my many so to speak “class speeches.”

I always talked, and everyone was eager to listen. I wasn’t very nice to my peers I have to admit, yet I wouldn’t say that I am disappointed of my younger self.

I always got high grades on my exams and I would frequently get phone calls from my friends to study with them.

I had many talents, and I was known throughout my school as “the” girl that was worth befriending…

I had a beautiful voice that I would always use for events and gatherings. My dancing and graceful moves, accompanied by my gorgeous figure made a dance complete. Whoever had me on their team was lucky…

My acting skills were beyond superb and I was main role on every production. It felt good, getting on stage and watching those hundreds of eager eyes looking at me…

You might roll your eyes on me and say, “Aaaww… c’mon, don’t be overly dramatic. No girl can be that talented.”

Well, there was always that small yet annoying but that always was there. Disturbing me wherever I wanted to go, whatever I wanted to do.

Everything always hurt me. Every body part, every muscle inside me, every move: hurt. I always ignored the signs blinking at me in my head, warning that something was off.

My parents always assumed it was growing pain and I agreed, for lack of any better explanation.

And then, then came the time that life changed everything…

What pain teaches man… Lyme Journey!

Part two:

I still remember that incident as if it were today. As if I flew back in time of my theee year old self and experienced all the pain the little me endured.

My small feet were hurting so bad. It was very late at night and my parents were already sleeping. I took some Tylenol, and being that I was all too familiar with painkillers, my little self knew which to take and the amount, too (!)

But no matter how long I waited for the extreme pain to subside, to fade away in its intensity, it continued with such force and power.

I twisted and turned in bed, tears coursing down my pretty little face. I cried, as I felt myself losing touch with reality as the pain took on a whole new level of “excruciating,” for my three year old mind.

My dark brown hair stuck to my face, sweat pouring down my face as it mingled with the tears that left my eyes.

My little hands knocked on my parents bedroom desperately, wanting to hear their lulling and caressing voices that would make my soft heart feel better..

Yet the pain intensified tenfolds as I realized their door was locked and i had no way of entering. I felt so lonely as I stood there, on the other side of the door, trying to calm down room avail.

I cried and cried, my body heaving uncontrollably as the sobs left my throat, raw and full of emotion. The noise machine was working in my parents room, so they didn’t hear my hysterical crying.

After some time, I fell to the floor, the crying physically exhausting me. The pain continued throughout the long night, unrelenting, as my little mind registered the painful experience as frighteningly “normal.”

Not even for a second did I think that it wasn’t normal for a healthy, rambunctious, three year old child to be up the whole not because of foot pain. Not even for a split second did thoughts cross my mind that perhaps something was wrong.

In my childish mind I saw this as the way of life. I thought that this was how every child lived, wasn’t it? Long, sleepless nights filled with tears and dreadful school days that involved countless of headaches and dizzy spells.

I saw everyone laughing and enjoying life, and honestly, I also was that carefree, happy child, enjoying life… yet I never entertained thoughts that perhaps this was not the norm and life’s quality held that many possibilities.

I also struggled with many emotional issues. Frequently was I very sad, even mildly depressed, without even having a valid reason!

Anger was a companion of mine that accompanied me wherever I went. I would always get angry or upset at people or situations, and no amount of consolation or soothing would help.

I was always aware that this wasn’t the real me. I always knew that hidden deep inside me was a positive person full of vivacious personality and life.

When I saw a child my age crying, I always asked, “what’s hurting you?” my round hazel eyes searching for an answer. Someone crying, someone looking sad, was always associated in my mind that something hurt them.

At the young age of three I already had the keen perception and sensitivity to others. I already understood to someone’s innermost fears and pains. I interpreted facial expressions and winks, along with many other nuances of relationships.

Strangers were often awed by my great comprehension, wondering aloud how a child so young in age could be so mature.

And I, with the years, though not consciously only subconsciously, knew my maturity was only because of the pain that already tried me at so young an age…