In the summer of 2006, I was diagnosed with Lyme disease. I never recovered. [Sharing this with first-time visitors to my blog.]
This summer, 11 years later, I am moving from rural Connecticut to big city Houston, Texas.
I don’t have a moving company. My sons are helping me pack, but are very slow and don’t know what they are doing (they weren’t old enough to help last time we moved).
Today I pick up my rental truck.
Chronic fatigue and moving
I can’t begin to describe what this process has been like for me. BLD (before Lyme disease), I home educated five children, cared for organic dairy goats for their milk (yogurt, cheese and raw milk), and had a small flock of chickens. I took care of the house, all the shopping, volunteered at my church, and ran an online support group for parents of special needs children.
I rarely got a break from the kids as my husband believed that I didn’t need time alone or to be away from the house without all five children (and him) in tow.
I was a doer.
I say all this to explain how traumatic it is for me to try to deal with a house full of stuff from 17 years here (plus what we brought), pack what I want to take with me, plan and then execute the move.
Try to remember how you felt when you had a really bad sinus infection or strep throat or the flu. Multiply that by 2-3, add in body-wide pain, headaches, and a digestive system that is never happy, and know that you will feel this way every day for the rest of your life.
This is how I feel most days. Occasionally, I have a day where I wake up and miraculously feel almost normal, until I hit the Lyme wall. This is where sudden fatigue hits and the day is over.
I am moving while dealing with these symptoms. It is hard. I feel like crying right now I am so discouraged.
I was supposed to get rid of my old car before I left. I needed to finish going through the stuff in the attic. I need to finish packing my books. I need to clean the house.
I have three big, strong sons who are not contributing as much as they could (what is wrong with young people these days???). They aren’t sick. They are able-bodied. I feel so sad about this.
Kicking Lyme’s ass
What I haven’t told you is that I am a stubborn woman.
I am leaving tomorrow no matter how much is done. The truck will be loaded with what I could pack. My car will be loaded with what could be packed.
I will drive the truck alternating with driving the car for nearly 1,800 miles. My 25 year old is going with us (along with teenage son).
I will do this.
No matter what my body says, I will drive away tomorrow and leave Connecticut before noon.
I refuse to let this disease stop me from my dream.
My grandchildren are in Houston. My mom and other family are in Austin. Two are now, and when we get there four of my children will be, in Texas.
It isn’t the place where I am going, it is to family and educational opportunities. It is supporting my daughter who has applied to the police academy. It is my granddaughter whose father demands a DNA test before he will pay child support (asshole).
I am leaving the state responsible for me getting Lyme disease. I am leaving the state whose doctors refuse to acknowledge and treat chronic Lyme disease. I am leaving a house that been neglected for 10 years.
I am leaving decay and entropy to find hope and order.
I am also leaving beautiful, loving friends. I am leaving two of my adult children. I am leaving much that I love. Connecticut is a beautiful place to live in spite of its depressed economy (if you are wealthy, you’re good).
By refusing to shrivel up and die, by moving on, I am kicking Lyme’s ass.
I am doing.