This morning I woke up and had the feeling. I don't get this feeling very often and I hate feeling this way. It's not the physical pain (which was off the chart for about 6 hours), but the emotional pain. I hate lying in bed, holding my head, crying and wishing I weren't in a place where I *hate* it. I try to be so positive and more or less inspirational and when I feel so badly that all I can do is huddle up into a ball while holding my head I don't feel positive. I hate that feeling. It's in that moment that I either want people surrounding me or I just want to be alone. There is no in between. This morning I wanted people around me. I wanted someone there to hold my head or my hand and tell me that I was just going to be okay. I wanted someone to say that the herxheimer reaction wouldn't last forever and that no matter what I was going through that it would end.
So I crouched into a ball and held my own head with one hand while clutching to my mouth with the other as I coughed. Every cough brought pain. I cried. I prayed. I answered a phone call from my best friend. On one hand, I didn't want to talk on the phone. But on the other hand, I knew his words would make me feel better. Apparently, I am a Tough-a-lup-ugus, Toughalupugus indeed.
I decided not to take my antibiotics this morning. I didn't want anything else dying inside my body, but tonight --- I will go back to Mepron & Zithromax and do some more killing because I am a Toughalupugus. In a week, I have found 6 ticks. One on my husband, two on my dog and three dead in our sunroom (apparently hitched a ride on Dexter's back --- and Dexter's back killed them because he had been treated). We hired a pest control company to come in and granulate the yard and spray the house. They'll come back in a little over a week to do a special flea & tick treatment and hopefully we'll have the house done enough so that maybe they can come inside to check to insure we don't have a problem inside the house.