The good news is we’re in Minnesota, where the healthcare is extraordinary and the kids are covered by MN Care.
The bad news is that Max has just been diagnosed with Lyme Disease after his canoeing trip up to the boundary waters were he was bitten by at least one tick (we found the offending arachnid still on him when he got home.)
Max has been listless and lethargic since returning from up north, and I’d pegged it up to teenage boy laziness.
And I feel like a heel – a guilty, bad-mommy, heel.
Of all folks I should have caught this – I had Lyme disease back in the early 90’s, and I remember the apathy, loss of energy and overall malaise that inhabited my being for over a year. In my case it took a while to diagnose, and took even longer to treat.
In Max’s case, we’re exceptionally lucky to have a diagnosis less than a month after point of contact, and today he starts antibiotics for 3 weeks.
We’ll monitor it, we’ll treat the patient, not the disease (as his doctor says), and I have some making up to do after telling Max that I thought he was “faking it” this weekend when he said he was too tired to help me tear apart our rubbermaid shed and rebuild it.
Bad, bad mommy. The hurt look on his face at my accusation will be one of those memories I will long carry.
But that doesn’t change the fact that Max has a persistent, debilitating disease and he feels pretty crummy right now.
Lyme has haunted me for years (my unproven ‘gut feeling’ is that it’s at the root of my fibromyalgia) and I’m hoping this won’t be the case for Max.
It explains his less-than-stellar performance at baseball last week, though, and once again I’m guilty for giving him a, “C’mon, at least ACT like you’re interested in the game…” pep-talk/chewing-out as we biked home.
Bad, bad mommy.