Mom, will you ever get better?
It's a cold Saturday morning here in New Hampshire. Our original plans for this weekend were to be on the slopes skiing. However, due to so-so weather conditions and the fact that I'm in the middle of a Lyme flare-up, we decided to stay put. As I lay here on my couch with so many thoughts swirling through my head, I am reminded of a question my son asked me long ago. Over the past three years now, both my boys have asked me this question many times. But the first time I heard those words, I froze:
"Mom, are you ever going to get better?"
I was instantly filled with anxiety, sadness, and fear. The truth was, I didn't know if I would ever get better. But I didn't want to tell my son that. So I lied.
"Yes, Jack. I will, for sure. It's just going to take some time." I then asked myself, "Will I ever get better? Will I always be in almost unbearable pain? Will I always have uncontrollable twitches? Will I always have severe mood swings? Will I always be so anxious? Will I always have this maddening ringing in my ears? Will I lose my mobility for good? Will I get my libido back? Will I keep forgetting where I'm going with my kids when I get in the car?" The questions and symptoms are too many to count. The fear was almost as paralyzing as the illness itself.