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Welcome to my Lyme blog where you enter the world of Lyme Disease and get a firsthand glimpse of what Lyme can do to a person!

Thursday, November 6, 2008

One Little Froggie In A Milk Pail

One Little Froggie in a Milk Pail
Dorcas Annette Walker

My life resembles the story of two frogs that jumped into milk pails. One little frog gave up and drowned. The other frog kept kicking until he churned the milk into butter and was able to hop out. I feel like a mixture of the two. Somehow, not of my doing, I’ve landed in a milk pail. Some days all I can manage to do is float and keep my head above the surface as I grasp for a solid surface to rest on. I wonder how on earth I will ever manage to get out of the milk pail with constant fatigue and pain overwhelming me. Other days I kick in rebellion not willing to let this crazy Lyme disease get the better of me. I manage to churn up particles of butter resembling tiny steps taken towards normalcy or any small goal that I’ve managed to accomplish. Every so often I find a solid lump of butter, claw my way to the top, and take inventory of where I am. I keep telling myself that all those swirls of yellow floating around me are positive proof that I have gained ground from where I was when I landed in the milk pail to start with. Even the milk looks a bit thicker. Just as I get confident to make a great leap for freedom, I slip back down into the milk. As the milk sloshes around my face I am taunted by the fact that I am still imprisoned in my milk pail of life. It’s then I’m tempted to give into despair. How much longer can I keep kicking? Churning milk into butter is lots harder than it looks, especially when you are the only one that is doing the kicking. Friends and family cheer me on. Every so often one peers down at me to ask how I am doing. I tell myself that I am not alone, even if it is just me in this cold metal milk pail. But the stark reality hits me in the face. I realize that no matter how much others want to help it really is up to me to keep kicking… keep hoping that the milk in life I’ve been given will soon turn into golden butter.