Illness can sneak into our lives when we least expect it. Sometimes it starts with something simple, something we consider just a seasonal flu, but it can be much bigger than expected. The small beginning turned into the scariest chapter of Liz’s life. It got so intense that the thought that she might not live to see my children grow up crossed her mind several times. It began with what felt like a regular flu. I had body aches, fever, and exhaustion so heavy that she sat wrapped in blankets, weeping, and also continuously kept telling herself it would pass. But instead of getting better, her condition kept getting worse. Nerve pain shot through her hands and feet until she could hardly breathe. Seeing her condition, Liz’s husband urged her to see a doctor, but she hoped it would get better like every time she kept saying, “We’ve got time.”
Time passed, but healing didn’t. She prayed quietly while she sat alone in her room. The prayers to God, to my mom who had passed away, asking for a sign that I’d be okay. The sign came in strange ways: a butterfly falling from the sky, a radio blasting “The Heat is On,” and a van with a skull and crossbones pulling in front of us. However, rather than accepting Liz, she still pushed forward, pretending it wasn’t serious. Then the call came, and on the other side of the phone, someone told her her bloodwork was alarming. Her doctor’s voice sounded urgent: “You must go to the hospital now.” That’s when her world cracked open, knowing there was something wrong.
At the hospital, things moved fast. Because Liz’s white blood cell count was dangerously low, she was quickly whisked into a private room. Nurses and doctors came and went, poking, prodding, and running endless tests. Some moments almost felt like comedy— e.g., an X-ray mistake caused by the snap on her hospital gown, a doctor joking about her unpedicured feet. But beneath the laughter, her heart was drowning in fear. Then she walked in, a young hematologist-oncologist. She looked put-together and confident, right down to her high heels. Liz was in a ratty hospital gown with her makeup smudged. The doctor talked gently, but whatever she said, Liz heard only one word: cancer.
She explained it wasn’t a diagnosis, only a possibility. However, her heart dropped as Liz, only 36 at that time, could never be prepared to have Leukemia. There was so much more in life that she wanted to do. That night, she sobbed, thinking of the lives of her kids without a mother. She thought about whether they would still love and remember her if she passed away. But, there she was… praying once again. She prayed not to take her this soon; she wasn’t ready.
A day later, another doctor came in. He looked older, calm, and was wearing sensible shoes. Liz trusted him instantly and hoped for the best. He told her how her white blood cell count had improved. Although Liz still wasn’t clear about it, what kept her at peace was that at least something was working. “Go home,” he said. Rest. We’ll keep checking.” So she went home with arms bruised from needles and a mind occupied with hundreds of questions. Then came the call that changed everything: her Lyme disease test was positive. This was when she wept with relief. Although it still was a severe disease, at least she did not have cancer. It was treatable and did not sound like a death sentence. A wave of gratitude passed, knowing how God chose health and healing for her rather than death. Although some days are still rough, she is glad to be alive.
I later learned that Lyme is called “the great imitator.” It can look like so many other illnesses, ranging from flu to chronic pain to mental illness or cancer. She shares her experience and journey so that no one has the same feelings. When you get the flu, don’t just let it stay. Get yourself tested. It’s simple and inexpensive, and it could save a life.
