Lyme Life ~ A Poem About Life With Lyme Disease
May is Lyme disease awareness month.
To kick off this special month of Lyme disease awareness, I thought I would share a poem.
A poetic description of my life with Lyme disease.
If you have ever lived with a chronic illness, I am sure that there are bits here that you can identify with. Lyme disease has totally obliterated anything that resembles normal in my life. It truly is a thief. But, I am determined to take back what it has stolen. I refuse to give up on the hope of remission and a better life. I am fighting back.
To all of my fellow Lyme warriors, I want to say keep encouraged and keep fighting. One day soon, the world will sit up and realize that there is a wolf at the door in the shape of a tick. Needed research will be accomplished and we will be one step closer to a cure.
A Lyme flare is keeping me from my writing.
I am in the midst of a truly terrible Lyme flare right now and unable to write a lengthy post. I hope to be back to my regular writing next week. Until then, remember it is tick season and protect yourself and your family when you are spending time in the great outdoors.
Wear tick repellent and be vigilant about checking for these menaces of the underbrush when you come inside from playing or working in the beautiful spring sunshine.
Don’t forget to wear the color lime during the month of May and help us raise awareness of this dreadful disease.
So without further rambling, the poem…
(A Poem For Lyme Warriors)
This Lyme life is a limbo,
Schedules are scattered as if my plans don’t matter.
Unpredictable, symptoms ravage,
What is left of my brain is rattled and battered.
Joints screaming with misery and muscles twitching visibly,
Just add to my equation of misery.
Ears ringing and feet stinging,
Eyes burning and stomach churning,
This merry-go-round of pain and exhaustion,
Make walking and talking a chore.
Life feels like a battlefield,
My breath steals and has a smothering feel,
Like the grim reaper is camping outside of my door.
My head is filled with cotton and my thoughts are forgotten,
As my blood pressure rises and then plummets to the bottom.
Dizziness sets in and I struggle to find balance,
As the world whirls around me in a never-ending swirl.
A life with Lyme is to live in a prison,
With invisible bars at the windows and doors.
The windows are sealed like a tomb long forgotten,
The breeze of life can’t get in through the doors anymore.
I can see life happening,
But, I am only watching,
From the silent prison,
Behind Lyme’s dark door.
Lyme only lets me watch from the stillness,
From the silence of the prison,
Made by illness and its minions that lurk beneath my core.
Lyme the thief,
Lyme the slayer,
The taker of normal,
The keeper of this prison,
Lyme the silent wolf at the door.
No matter what this silent wolf devours,
With its spiraled fangs of misery that are buried ‘neath the floor,
Of my body that is broken and my mind that is hoping
For a brighter day to dawn when at last they find a cure.
It cannot take the “me” that I’ve hidden deep inside,
The one that remembers what days of sunshine are,
I will not quit the struggle,
And I will fight with all my might,
To restore what this wolf has taken
And be whole again once more.
Until next time, keep fighting,
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