Cure Unknown
Inside the Lyme Epidemic
Introduction Navigating by Lymelight Starting in the early 1990s, after we moved from a city apartment to a wooded property in Westchester County, New York, our family began to get sick. At first the illness was subtle: The vague headaches, joint pains, and bone-weariness seemed par for the course in our busy suburban lives. But as years passed, the symptoms intensified and multiplied, burgeoning into gross signs of disease. My knees became so swollen that I descended the steps of my house while sitting. Swallowing my food, I choked. My arms and legs buzzed—gently at first, but then so palpably I felt like I was wired to a power grid. A relentless migraine became so intense I spent hours each day in a darkened room, in bed. My husband, Mark, an avid tennis player with great coordination, began stumbling and bumping into walls. Formerly affable, he began exploding at offenses as slight as someone spilling water on the floor. He was an award-winning journalist with a love of literature and a vocabulary so vast he was our stand-in for the dictionary. But slowly he began strugglin ...
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