Back in February, I was exhausted, ill and all out of patience. The last GP I had presented my troubles to suggested I seek counselling. She wasn’t even willing to discuss the possibility that something physical was responsible for so many seemingly unrelated issues (from migraines to muscle spasms, and some things you won’t want to read about).
So I took to Google with one of my more embarrassing issues and up popped Lyme disease. My mother had mentioned it earlier in the week so I started reading about it. It was all there. Every single problem I’ve had over the last nine years could be put down to Lyme.
“You’ve not been right since you returned from America that second time.” Mum kept saying, and she was right. One morning, soon after returning from New Hampshire in 2007, I’d woken up feeling like I’d been hit with flu, my face covered in white pustules and a thick oily slime. I was retaining water everywhere and had rashes on my elbows and knees. I felt hideous!