I for one am sick of lyme and lyme is sick of me. We are heartily sick of each other. We have been trying busily to bump each other off for years, indeed decades. I cannot, in spite of truly heroic, indeed suicidal efforts kill them, suceed in exterminating the noxious scum. Mr. and Mrs. B. Burddorferi (Boris and Myrtle) and their endless number of realtions are some tough bugs. The suff I have used to try to kill them almost kills me or makes me wish I were dead. It also makes me very sick. I am not a happy camper. I do not think the Burgdorferis are happy campers either and when they are unhappy they have the nasty habit of spewing you with loathsome substances called lipoproteins which cause you to feel perfectly awful-but then what do you expect with a name like that?

On the other hand Boris and Myrtle and their associates in crime have been trying to murder for me decades as well. They have made my life very interesting but not a lot of fun. God knows, they have tried and tried and tried and tried. But I refuse to let them getr away with it. So we are now at an impass. I am, however, going to have the last laugh. I have given specific instructions that I am to be cremated in a very hot fire.

Borrelia burgdorferi does not like heat. So this means that when the Borrelias, members of the spicrochete Cosa Nostra all, get together with all the other members of the "family" to celebrate their success in finally killing off this tough and obnoxious old coot-God, was he ever stubborn- they are going to in for a very unpleasant surprise. Just as they have all had a lovely dinner and are siting around sipping a rare cognac or some lovely sherry in quiet celebration the whole damn joint is going to go up in smoke and and slimey little bastards are all going to get fried and their filthy spirochete twisted souls are all going to roast forever in the very hottest bottom of hell.

So do not let your life be consumed by lyme disease. There is still stuff out there. Turn to those things that bring you joy. The sun still comes up and the days can be beautiful. The dreadful month of August is over half over and someday it will be cool again. There are still wonderful things to do and wonderful things to see. Places to go and people to meet. There are books to read and music to play or listen to. There is still food.
there are flowers and gardens. You could even raise and train guinea hens to eat ticks. You could hunt down deer.

There is always wine, women (or men) and song. Oh, damn, I forgot, with lyme you cannot drink wine and the stupid thing may be an STD. Oh, well there is still song. Next thing I know they will say that Beethoven stimulates the damned bugs and speeds up the fision rate or that Brahms casuses the filthy beasts to sprout blebs, grow or some such drivel.

As for wine, take an occasional swig. The good it will do your soul will far outweigh any damage done by stimulating the obnoxious microscopic swine. As for sex, well I am not Dr. Ruth and think I am in enough trouble with this posting already.

In any case, fight the dpression and the pain. Do not give up or give out. By being willing to fight you strengthen your immune system. As least go down fighting. You can die knowing that you did not roll over and play dead and gave the bugs, the ducks, the LLMDS, the insurance racket and your fellow lyme sufferers on lymenet a run for their money and made life as miserble for them as they made life miserable for you. And on the way down you did have a chuckle or two as you played the cards life dealth you as well and as bravely as you could. Cheers. Thomas Parkman

I also am very tired of this God Forsaken disease taking over my life, and I don't even have Lyme. My Daughter and my granddaughter have it. Who else will protect them from the ducks? I had to do years of research to even get them tested.

You all know the story as most of you have lived it. I enjoyed your posting, Thomas.

ICEY

bravo. Bravo.

Trout

I hate to give you the bad news: in response to all those questions about whether or not I am all right or not, NO I am NOt. I have been nuts for years and I am getting crazier by the day. Even worse, my typo percentage is going up, a bad sign.

However I am not quite ready yet to kick the bucket and incinerate the filthy microscopic swine-I do wish I could come up with some new invective to describe the vomitous, putrid nauseaous bacterial sewer rats and trailer trash pond scum-but I am slipping. Maybe I should contact the good folks in North Korea. I understand they have come up with some really racy descriptions of B. Bush and co. which could be easily adapted to our friends Boris and Myrtle. Further this is a family internet and if I really said what I thought they would wash my mouth out with cheapest, vilest soap to be found in Bangladesh. So I will refrain.

Just what I needed to see today.
*trueblue cheers Thomas Parkman*

Thank you for the message and the smiles.

That reminds me of a thought I had last night:

"Dang, unfortunately Lyme disease is *not* fatal".

I was like "heyyyyy, where did that crazy thought come from?" Shouldn't I have thought "*Fortunately*, Lyme disease is not fatal"?

Going with your Godfather/Cosa nostra reference, how do we sneak a horse's head into Myrtle's bed?

great post.

Your mother should be most proud!

Puts me in mind of one of my favorite sayings...

If you don't laugh at yourself, someone else is going to.

Thanks... I needed that!

Michelle

I always enjoy your posts. Thank you!

Cheers to YOU & take care,

Hope you can evict Boris and Myrtle and their lazy free-loading offspring soon!