A city girl from Denver learns the source of her chronic suffering…
and discovers that Lyme disease can strike anywhere
By Linda Warner, guest blogger
Let me start by saying that I am an overcomer of many things. I grew up in a very abusive alcoholic home, where my parents struggled to put food on the table. I left my home at 16 to enter an abusive relationship with my daughter’s father. I stayed in the relationship far too long, but knew it was not what God’s plan was for me. I put myself through school, even going on to get an MBA. I ended that relationship. But nothing has been more draining to overcome the Diagnosis of LYME. I know that God has given me the strength and the tools to overcome anything.
I am not sure when I got bitten by a tick. I experienced no bulls eye rash. What I did experience, seemingly from out of the blue, was bone-deep achiness and endless fatigue and anxiety. Psychiatrists diagnosed me with everything from PTSD to BiPolar. As a single parent, marathoner and hard driving, middle-aged sales rep for a major global pharmaceutical company, I told myself this was normal. After all, my work had me in and out of doctors’ waiting rooms all day long — of course I would be prone to picking up whatever the patients were bringing in. Plus, wasn’t this what all “women of a certain age” go through? One fall day in 1989, driving to a sales call, I literally fell asleep at the wheel. I awoke after colliding with a tow truck. While the truck driver was fine, I suffered a back injury and my body ached worse than ever.
The accident really scared me and served as a virtual “wake up” call to get help. Surrounded by doctors at my job, I had easy access to a wealth of professional advice and diagnoses. And everybody pretty much said the same thing: It was all stress and anxiety.