This little beastie, a member of the spider family, is the locally infamous deer tick. It has been magnified 600 time which is to say when it's sneaking up your leg it is impossible to feel and almost impossible to see. But package a nasty bacteria that attacks the victim's white blood cells and wrecks all sorts of havoc in the body starting with fevers, headaches, weakness and disorintation. I have been walking in their territory for four years not and we had had interactions. Until the past few weeks; It took a bit of time for the nefarious bacterial to accumulate force but this week it announced it presence in my blood. I fainted on Wednesaday and Thusrday became so weak I could not get out of the bathttub. That accompanied by head achhe, shoulder ache diarrhea, loose of appetite was horrid enough for Rachel to say "we're going to the ER. My though exactly. That was Thursday evening, on Sunday evening I'm still here. Without a first diagnosis I'm being treated with every antibiotic show to work on the tick. There are a variety, none of them nice un treated. Each day when I hope to go home I'm told another test result is expected. With knowledge of the specific bacteria I shouldn't have to undergo the shot gun approach.
My original fever is mostly down. I can eat. -- lightly and sleep, sort of -- who can really sleep in a hospital? I'm getting stronger. I have faith it will be cured by the end of summer and I'm growing philosophical about the ways the human mind handles problems. I have never had systemic illness, had not idea how some systems try to shut down. For instance the ability to find the letters on a keyboard, a skill I've had since age 16 is trying to slip away. I WON"T let but finding the keys to write this has been frusratingly slow -- something I thought could happen on with a strong. I'm contemplating my way planning each day and the fantasies that come to me in the middle of the night. I don't like this experience but I will find usefulness in it.
Pardon types a bad sentence structure, I have'nt the energy to read this.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!