Helsinki, June 1, 2015

In April, 2014 I had a serious conversation with myself.

Me myself, my son (19 yrs old at the time) and my father (70 years old at the time) had been traveling to Madrid to watch Real Madrid against Bayern München in the Champions League semi finals. The stands at Santiago Bernabeu are very steep, and we had to climb/walk upwards about 10 meters from the section entry gate to get to our seats.

My father and my son had to wait for me, just like in the arrivals hall at the airport the day before. No speeding pulse, no shortness of breath, just pain. Diffuse pain. Squeezing pain, like if my body was caught in a slowly tightening vise. Every body movement had to be executed against a growing resistance.

Following shortly thereafter, sure as fate, everything else. Tinnitus, dizziness, back spasms, nausea, chills. Not a single body position that would make my body feel ok.

In the conversation with myself, I told myself that this is not how it’s supposed to be. I’m 15 years older than I was in the year of 2000, but my body has collapsed in a way that just can’t be caused by normal agening.

Last Fall, all the pieces fell together. I have struggled – and continue to struggle – a most unequal fight against borrelia.

Today I received my first dosage of intravenous antibiotics at a clinic here in Helsinki. Quite a few of my friends are as of now taking off on vacations, traveling to warmer and sunnier areas of the world. I myself sit for at least three weeks in an old warehouse, watching the medicine drip slowly out of the IV drip bag, through the infusion needle, into my blood circulation system.

This is quite an expensive vacation, because Finland – like many other countries – doesn’t recognize the possibility that whatever harasses and systematically destroys my body prematurely would have anything to do with the helical, tick-borne bacteria Borrelia burgdorferi.

I, however, do. I’m angry of what I know now, and that I didn’t learn about it earlier. That said, I’m also gratefull that my piano player hands and my reflecting, thinking self are unafflicted. As of now. Without treatment, it would all just be a matter of time, and if I lose my hands and my brains I feel I would have nothing left.

Hence the fight starting today. I will write here for terapeutic reasons, for information, and for lifting this dreadful sickness up into the light. This is no report, neither do I claim to hold any information about universal thruth or proper action. This is just what it is.

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