What My One Word for 2011 Has to Do With Bartonella

Yesterday, I told you all that I’d been diagnosed with cat scratch fever – aka Bartonella – last month after being scratched by a friend’s cat. I told you it was challenging me in more ways than one, and one of those ways is thinking about how my One Word for 2011 might apply to this situation. Because truth be told, whenever  I even hear the word Bartonella it pretty much freaks me out. I’ve been in remission from Chronic Lyme Disease, Bartonella, and Babesiosis since early January 2010. But I’ve had two re-exposures since then – one when I went traipsing through the Everglades with no socks on last summer and now this latest run in with an angry cat. Both times I’ve caught the re-exposure pretty much immediately. The symptoms hit me hard and fast, I’d seen myself be bitten / scratched, and it was pretty clear I had a raging infection. Last time I was better with just a little over four weeks of antibiotics. This time I’ve been on antibiotics for just one day shy of four weeks, and I am literally counting.down.the.days until I can stop them.

All of which has me considering that One Word I chose: TRUST.

When I stop and really think about my relationship with God and where I can grow in TRUST, I’m overwhelmed with how good He’s been to me and with the realization that He’s never given me a reason not to trust Him. He’s delivered me from abuse, illness, heartbreak, and financial ruin. Even when those things hurt so bad, He’s kept me still standing. He’s kept me from death and from the worst that could occur with every situation. Even when I’m scared and lonely and anxious and unsure, He meets me in love and not with punishment or condemnation. He meets me with forgiveness. Even when I’m distrustful enough to fear the opposite. I was thinking about that with my latest run in with Bartonella.

I took what I thought would be my last dose of Ciproflaxin on Monday night, just two days shy of four weeks. And then I tossed and turned wracking my brain about when I should stop the antibiotics. Afraid that I might need to keep going in case there’s still an infection lingering but equally as afraid that I’m killing my organs with every new round of antibiotics I take.

I’ve been beating myself up with this decision – to take or not to take – and then beating myself up more for how scared I can be of pills. But truth be told, I remember how hard it was to take high doses of multiple antibiotics everyday for 2 years. And I remember how bad the side effects could be. I also remember how sick I got when I wasn’t given antibiotics for the infections, and I never want to experience that kind of illness again. So I get stuck between a rock and a hard place trying to decide which is the lesser evil and hating each option.

I forget that even in the scariest places in my illness and treatment, God was with me. I forget that no matter how bad it was, God delivered me. And I forget that no matter which choice I make – taking the antibiotics or not – God will be with me. He’s not waiting to swoop in and punish me with more illness if I’m too afraid to take the antibiotics. And He’s not waiting to deal me a huge blow of side effects if I’m so scared of the infection that I take a few days more antibiotics than I need. He’s waiting there with open arms, offering to help me no matter which choice I make. Sometimes He might nudge me one way or the other, but always for my benefit. Because I can TRUST that no matter what happens, He always has my best interest in mind. Even when it’s scary. Even when I’m unsure. Even when I freak out and fear the worst. I can trust God.

So now I think I get that on a deeper level than I knew was possible to get. And it blows my mind. I’m still scared of the antibiotics, I’m still scared of the Bartonella, I still want someone to hang out with me every minute of every night until I don’t have to make that choice, and I’m still scared that those feelings mean I have a lot more growing to do. But I can look back and see just how much growing I’ve already done. Painful, scary growing through illness and medications and operations and procedures. And while I’m freaked out, and still wanted to throw myself a pity party (and really, I think anyone who’s had Bartonella deserves a pity party every once in a while), and still generally really upset about the whole re-exposure thing, I can also see how much stronger my faith muscles are, even though it hurts to stretch them this far.

Most of all though I’m amazed at how God already knew all of this about me when He thought me into being, and He loved me anyway. Which means scared or not, messed up or not, I can TRUST Him. I can trust that no matter which decision I make, He’ll be with me. That someday Bartonella will once again be in my past, the way it was since I went into remission last year. And that He’s with me every step of the way. That’s pretty awesome.

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