Out, damned b. burgdorferi!

Even though I've been told several times that I am fully curable, the last few weeks of medical treatment (antibiotics and supplements) are not improving my mood.  

What happened is that I traded some of the classic symptoms for others. Instead of skin rashes, I'm tired all the time. Instead of swollen lymph nodes, my digestion has gone to hell because of the antibiotics.  And although I don't consider myself particularly vain, I suspect I often look as crappy as I feel. 

I'm considering checking myself into some Buddhist retreat and eating lawn clippings for a few days. I'm not liking this much.

Perhaps I should just swear off bird-watching. Or buy a T-shirt that says:

I Went to Gladewater To Look for Bald Eagles and All I Got Was This Lousy Spirochete.