The month of May is Lyme Disease Awareness Month. I love Black History Month, but other than that I don't keep up with what awareness month it is. I can barely keep up with which month it actually is anyway. This year, however, Lyme Disease Awareness means a lot to me because I am doing IV antibiotics after having Lyme Disease for 16 years. 16 years is half of my life. I used to be able to control the Lyme with oral antiobiotc treatment every few years. In the past year or two, however, the Lyme had become so bad that it was seriously affecting my digestive system. Without a properly working digestive system, I couldn't take tons of pills (my stomach couldn't digest them), and my intestines wouldn't absorb them even if they were digested.
Last fall, Joel and I realized that something had to be done. And I was TERRIFIED. I didn't want to do IV therapy. We knew that the insurance company wouldn't cover it and that we would have to pay for all of it ourselves, but we also knew that there weren't any other options for us. Joel let me make the decision. He was okay with whatever I chose. That was scary too. He left the choice to me because I would be the one who would deal with all the side effects the medicines would throw at me.
It took months for me to think about whether I wanted to do the treatment or not. I was too scared to pray about it. Then, at the Christmas social for my Tuesday morning Bible study, I shared with the other women that I was too scared to even pray about. So, instead of telling me to get over my fears, they prayed for me. That one night was such a blessing for me. For just a few hours I was freed from my fears and I prayed hard, knowing that the fear would try to regain control of my life. On the 45 minute drive home, I pray that God would give me wisdom and a clear indication as to whether or not to pursue the IV therapy knowing that it would cost us tens of thousands of dollars.
That night God's answer was clearly "Yes." I opened my Bible to read when I got home and the passage was the transfiguration of Jesus in Matthew 17. The Bible says that Jesus took Peter, James, and John up to a mountain with them. There, he was transformed-his face was radiant and clothes became pure white. In essence, he became the image of the glory of God. The disciples (like me) were terrified, but Christ was comforted them. Matthew 17:17it says: "But Jesus came and touched them. 'Get up,' he said. 'Don't be afraid.' When they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus." I felt like Christ had just spoken those very words to me. I knew that if I looked only at Jesus through this crazy journey, I could make it to the other side. I didn't know how it would all happen, but when Christ speaks, you move. You are willing to do crazy things that you don't know how you will pay for. I agreed to do a treatment that would make me oh-so-sick before I ever got better. I agreed to let God handle the money for us. I agreed to let God walk us through this for his glory, because without him I just couldn't make it.
This is the short version of what is going on. Not all posts will be doom and gloom (though today and yesterday sure felt like it). Please forgive this English minor's grammatical errors. Forgive the spelling errors. The treatment really muddles my brain, but I can explain that later. It has been humbling for me to suddenly not be able to do things that I took pride in before I started treatment. It's been humbling, but I am learning that a humble place is a great place to grow in God.