You Do NOT wanna go there....

I've been killing time till my Soap comes up on YouTube. And being BORED, I googled myself. It was 'unsettling'. If you write things, it's out there. And THIS came up from 1996. Talk about a flash-back.

Huh... my first pc, and I was desperate. Brings back loads of memories. And the answers upset me more than I can say. And yeah, my full name is in there in the thread. So what.

I did survive Lyme's disease, but you really don't want to know about it. Some friggin' bug stung me one August night a couple of years earlier, woke up thinking I'd slept in a draft, had tremendous back pain, and one fine day, I was out in my garden, and started to have facial paralysis. It was extreme. First I couldn't feel the cigarette on one side of my lips, then my eye started drooping, and it got worse and worse, and I went into the house and said, 'Peter, something is very wrong... I have to get to hospital.' And took the tram out. And feeling the lameness getting into my sides, and my arm.

Skeery, right?

It turned into a nine-week nightmare. They thought I would die, at first. They did so many spinal taps, I wanted to KILL them. And the first one... that woman was so incompetent, she ruined me for the rest of my life, but I didn't know it then.

The first night, I was put on a bed in the middle of freshly delivered stroke patients. They thought I would die. Peter came in, and was devastated. Just devastated. I thought it was all over, but it wouldn't have been me if I hadn't moufed off. It nearly killed me to see his pain. At the time, I was thinking, 'Ok, I've had a good life and done some amazing things, so if this is it... I'm fine with it.'

They pumped me full of antibiotics that at the time would have cost $2,500.00 dollars a pop. For two weeks. The paralysis went away, I had facial massages, and therapy. And never saw a bill for it. I was just angry.

I was totally cut off from any communication, hated it, but there was nothing I could do. Peter was there every single day for me.

Every single day.

The only other people who visited were my boss' kids, just to ascertain I was really so fucked up, and near the end, my boss... who brought me potatoe chips, because she knew they were my snack of choice at work. That latter was a miracle. She NEVER visited hospitals, having had enough of it in her earlier life, and taking care of her sister who had had polio. I understood it for what it was, and it was a wonderful gesture.

I understand it now even more.

They pronounced me 'cured', and life went on, but with a lot of pain. We had just moved into our new home. But I was debilitated. And went from one doctor to another, and they said it was all in my head... or something. Believe me, you can't make shit like that up. I was hurting, and badly.

When I got into the help group, I was grasping for something, anything that would make it go away. So I had my first PC, and got some answers, but they weren't encouraging, oh no, Preciousses. I talked my head off with doctors, and they were of the opinion I was 'cured'. 'So why do I have excruciating pain in my lumbar region?' Well, I was imagining it, of course....

It took another three years, and as serendipity would have it... a doctor specialised in Tibetan medicine turned up at the Ho-tel. He saved Peter's life. Two years later, I c onsulted with him in one of the weirdest things I've ever done. Had to turn up with a urine sample... after which he told me I'm a 'wind' type... (who would have guessed, ha...) and spent over ten minutes reading my pulse... ten minutes on each arm. Dr. Barry was really amazing, let's leave it at that.

So he prescribed a month's meds, and after three weeks, I was to fax him, and give a report--- what is better, what hasn't changed, and the next month's meds came per mail with some slight variations. It was expensive.

But after three months, it went away, like magic... poof. And those damed little balls were BITTER, so it wasn't 'Fun'.

Now there are some people who will tell you I had an hysteric reaction, and others will say it was all in my head. All I can say is that to this day, several years of pain disappeared, and I no longer have to lie down for an hour because I could hardly walk.

Teeth-clenching pain.

MY take on it is... you don't have a system of medicine for over five thousand years if it isn't worth anything.

Poor Peter was so upset back then, he had me checked in as a private patient overnight, and what did I get? Another spinal tap, and antidepressants. RIIIGGHTT. It set him back over one thousand dollars.

They found residual Lyme in my spine----'but not enough to cause what you are claiming'.

So I got my PC, and started looking.

There are so many people out there who need help, and Lyme's disease really isn't 'funny' or a figment of the imagination.

So I lucked out, seemingly. A lot of people do not.

And that is the story behind that. I wish it on no one. And sometimes it is better not to Google yourself. It can bring up very bad memories.

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