Catching up with old, fuzzy Friends

Good evening everyone!

      Today was a good day.  There was intermittent pain, but it was one of the best days I've had for a while. I was asked to run the morning routine at a non-profit barn where I have been a volunteer for six years. This meant getting up hours earlier than normal (well, at least for Christmas break it was hours early!!), bundling up against the sunless cold, and working my butt of for over 2 hours without compensation.  ...and I wouldn't trade it for the world.  The horses who live there are old, semi-retired schoolmasters, and the most understanding souls I've ever come across.  After spending most of this past summer with them, they think that I myself am a strange biped equine!

      Horses remember everything.  When it comes to people, they never forget the hands that helped them into the world, that buckled on that first halter, that feed them every day, that heal their wounds, that clean their coats, that rub their heads, that sneak them treats, and that pat them affirmingly after a hard day's work.  Each of the nine horses I took care of this morning treated me as if I'd never left for school three months ago. Like continuing a paused conversation, we fell in stride together and picked up where we had left off.  I make a point of always talking to horses like they speak English. From how the respond to me, you'd thing they'd heard every word I'd said.

       Needless to say, these horses have touched me very deeply.  When my symptoms first appeared this past summer, the horses could tell.  They would see me weary and tired, look me in the eye, then slow down to match my pace.  When my hands hurt from the arthritis, I'd stretch them around a horses curved barrel and let the soft heat saturate my being. When I was distraught about my broken state, the horses would let me clutch a handful of mane and bury my face in their necks. One very special horse would turn around to check on me as I wet his coat with my tears.  I could gawk for another 200 pages about that "special bond" between humans and horses, but I think I've made my point.  

Two friends saying "Hello"

     One of these horses, "Dancer," was very lame all summer.  He had a serious history or laminitis and had foundered before, but this round was worse than the others.  He could barely walk at times from the pain in his feet, so he was put on stall rest with thick bedding to cushion his tender hooves.  I was constantly going to the barn to check on Dancer, clean his stall, change out his water, medicate him, and keeping him comfortable as he healed.  He was my healing partner: taking excellent care of him in his weakness reminded me to take care of myself in my weakness.  Truth be told, we were actually taking care of each other.  I received a letter from the stables last week, informing me that Dancer had suffered another round of laminitis and had to be put down.  It was the wise and merciful thing to do, but the barn wasn't quite the same this morning when his fuzzy brown head topped with an ebony mane didn't appear over his stall door.

Plaster me head-to-toe in Band-Aids, please.

Today has been another bad fatigue day.  After 9.5 hours of sleep, I had two cups of tea, 1 coffee, 1 Excedrin,and I still took a nap 4 hours after waking up. It wasn't even a good nap.   >:-(

Oddly enough, today I had a lot of the more "minor" or "secondary" Lyme's symptoms pop up.  None of them are crippling or dramatic enough to render their own posts, so they will share one here.

Sleep issues:  Sleep related to the fatigue.  Lyme's is an infection, so some nights I wake up with fever-like chills and sweats that keep me up.  Additionally, Lyme's disease interferes with the body's ability to go into REM sleep.  REM sleep is the deepest level of sleep where the body does a lot of it's repairs and genuine resting.  Lacking hours in REM sleep makes 8 hours of sleep do as much good as 4 hours for me.  The night-sweats are rare, but the REM deprivation is every stinking night.    Oh sleep issues, please leave. Getting adequate sleep is hard enough in school and you are not being helpful. OK? Thanks. 


Heart issues:  Singing gets to be rather interesting and difficult when you're heart is flapping around in your chest like a fishtail. Heart "palpitations" will come out of nowhere and flutter around as if there is butterfly stuck in my heart chambers.  This isn't really an issue unless I'm doing something (like singing) that requires quality oxygen flow.  I am in the school chorus, an a capella group, and I sing all the time at church - heart issues interfere with my life SO much.  Dear heart, calm down.  There is nothing exciting going on and I would really appreciate the oxygen right now.  Mk?  You Debby-Downer, you.


Nausea:  I'm sick to my stomach and hungry at the same time.  I often have trouble judging if I'm actually hungry, if I am getting a virus, or if it's just the nausea.  For the sake of proper nutrition and not getting fat, I usually make the call based on the time of day - no joke. Before Lyme's, nothing ever made me nauseous.  Nausea, you're making this whole "taking care of my body with proper nutrition" thing really difficult.  Cut it out, ya jerk. 

Numbness:  I can be sitting in a well-aligned position and still have digits fall asleep on me. Sometimes, it's unusual places, like the back of my hand or my shin that looses sensation.  It's so inconvenient because the only thing to do is to keep moving.  As you can imagine, that couples really nicely with the chronic joint pain.  -_-   Really numbness, really?  As if dealing with everyone else wasn't bad enough, you had to chime in too?  RUDE! 


Mood Changes:  At first, I though this was my own overreaction to being sick all the time this summer, but apparently going from ordinary to anxious, to bawling, back to ordinary in the span of a week is a known symptom of Lyme's.  This explains why my regular practitioner though I was depressed - I was.... but only a little.  This means I do stupid things like cry in front of people far too often now adays.  This is perhaps my greatest contributor to this terrible discouragement I'm facing.  Happy disposition, dear, we've been so good since middle school, what happened? Please don't let this disease ruin our relationship. Please stay with me!


Some days, I feel almost completely normal with only slight fatigue or minor joint pain.  Others, I want someone to cover me head-to-toe in Band-Aids and read me stories to keep my mind off of things.  With your caring prayers and gushing affection, even Band-Aid days are manageable. For that, you are my heroes.


Goshdarnit, another long post.  I'll get better about writing decently short ones at some point, I promise.

All my Love,
~Melissa