Hello there, sweet reader!
I want you to know that I am so glad you are here!
Since our community has been growing in recent months, I wanted to write a blog post that tells a little bit more of the heart behind the writing on this site.
My name is Emily Lofgren. I’m 26 years old, and I am currently treating Lyme Disease, co-infections, Pyroluria, Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, and more. Life with chronic illness has been a hard journey for me. I’ve hard periods of times when I wanted to give up, but there was always this deeper, lasting hope within me as the Holy Spirit worked to keep me aware of His presence.
I am a Christian. I love the Lord and desire for my life to reflect Christ. My goal in writing here is to help others who are facing similar life experiences with chronic illness. I want those who are hurting to know that they are not alone and that the Lord will meet them in the midst of the pain.
A little over a year ago, I released an eBook called Finding Hope Through the Fog. It shares about my struggles with chronic illness and what it meant to turn to God when it felt like things are hopeless. I’d love to give you a free copy!
The whole process of starting Lyme Disease treatment is overwhelming! Information can be conflicting, leaving you unable to figure out what will actually help as you work toward stability.
Lyme Disease is a complex condition. There’s usually a lot more than just Lyme going on in your body if you’re experiencing a whole list of symptoms.
(Before we go any further, I want to make the disclaimer that I am not a medical professional and am unable to diagnose, prescribe a treatment plan, or give medical advice. All information here is informational and is from my experience in treating Lyme Disease.)
Throughout the process of treating Chronic Lyme Disease, I’ve learned a bit about the things I should and shouldn’t do during treatment.
I wrote this blog post to tell you a little bit about the things I did wrong when beginning treatment for Lyme Disease.
I’m not naturally someone who likes rest.
Some people like to take naps and lounge. I often wish I were like them! It would be nice to be able to focus on a Netflix marathon without getting the itch to go do something else. It would be great to be free of thinking of the next thing I would like to be doing.
I don’t mind curling up in a blanket on the couch, but I’d rather be reading a book than watching a movie. If not reading, I would prefer to be writing or brainstorming for a new project. I am all for being cozy, but I like to do it with purpose.
Many days, I wish that resting came naturally to me – that I was someone who could easily watch hour after hour of TV shows to pass the time. When I feel miserable from the pain, fatigue, and brain fog that come from managing several chronic illnesses, I would love to just veg out on the couch and enjoy it!
I’m not a good rester because I desperately want to be doing something. I like to be involved in activities. I like doing work that matters, and I am not very good at stopping.
Have you ever felt this way?
What happens when those of us with chronic illnesses have great intentions but the illnesses we face stop us in our tracks?
A life with debilitating chronic illness can be isolating.
I know this firsthand.
If you’re reading this post, you may also understand the isolation that comes when chronic illness keeps you from living what many would consider a “normal life.”
In this rough season of treating Lyme Disease and other chronic health conditions, the majority of my time has been spent in bed.
At some points, I could barely leave my apartment once a week. My boyfriend would come by with groceries or supper to help get me through the time until I had enough strength to make it out again. Occasionally, another friend would stop by to visit or bring a meal.
I had interaction, but it wasn’t often.
Long weeks of being alone can take a toll on a person.
I ran into a friend today.
We bumped into each other at the polling place as I went to cast my vote for school board. She was working the polls as she does each election.
This is a friend I used to work with on occasion in my previous position. I always enjoyed getting the chance to work with her.
Today, she asked me about how I’m doing. It’s a fair question that people ask when they see me around town. They care. They want to know more. But the fear of answering this question sometimes causes me to turn the other way when I spot a neighbor in the grocery store. It also leads me to walk past an acquaintance in a restaurant, avoiding eye contact and hoping they don’t notice me.
Avoidance behaviors can quickly become my everyday existence if I’m not careful. But having to explain my complex health situation to others adds to the anxiety I’m already trying to get under control.
So I struggle with explaining my current life situation to other people.