M y Lyme disease story begins before I was even born. It starts with a nymphal tick, no bigger than the tip of a Sharpie, that infected my mother and changed the course of my family’s life.
A few years later my mom, still undiagnosed, had my brother, Tommy, and then two years later, she had me. From birth on, my brother and I were continually sick.
My mom persistently worked with the gastroenterologist, allergist, ENT, ophthalmologist, dermatologist, occupational therapist, physical therapist, speech therapist, and pediatrician to help us.
When I was a baby, my depleted immune system triggered several autoimmune disorders. I looked malnourished with a bloated stomach. By the time I was two, I was diagnosed with celiac disease.
A year later, still unaware of my Lyme disease, I was re-infected by a tick. Following the bite, my eyes crossed and I experienced headaches, back pain, night sweats, and even a small seizure. By the time I was four years old, we all had developed late-stage Lyme.
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