Contributors

 Rebecca Brinkmann,  PhD, CHC

Rebecca Brinkmann, PhD, CHC

Dr. Rebecca Brinkmann became interested in nutrition, fitness & health after battling Lyme disease for several years.  During her treatment, she went on a quest to repair her own immune system. As a researcher, she became increasingly aware that in order to maintain a healthy lifestyle, one must take charge of their own health.  She believes this is accomplished by working with one's physician rather than being a passive consumer of health care. Rebecca earned her doctorate in communication studies and has taught in higher education for over 12 years. She earned her health consulting certification from the Dr. Sears Wellness Institute. Her interest in health includes the mind, body and spirit connection.  She became deeply interested in the spiritual aspect of one's life while she obtained her ministry certification from Catch the Fire School of Ministry in 1996.

My Lyme Story Part IV:  The downward slope

My Lyme Story Part IV: The downward slope

"Mom! MOM! Wake up!"  My son was standing by my bed pushing on my arm. I was sleeping...again. The cute little face of my four-year-old was peering at me with concern.  "Mom, we're hungry. Make us breakfast PLEASE!"  I slowly climbed out of bed, my head pounding, the pressure too intense to describe. I was weak, but I was functioning. "Okay sweetie" I said in an almost whisper and made my way to the kitchen. My husband was leaving for work and my two-year-old was eating yogurt in his high chair while watching Sprout on TV.  "You don't look so good." My husband said. "Maybe you need to go back to see your doctor"  Yeah, I said,  "I don't feel so good." 

He left for work and I attempted to go about my daily routine.  I popped a few Sudafed and started cleaning up the toys in the boy's room.  At one point, I leaned over to pick up a stuffed animal.  When I stood up, my head felt like someone had pumped it up like an over-inflated basketball.  Suddenly, I was hit with a sharp pain and my vision went white.  I stumbled through the house into the kitchen.  I reached for a glass to get some water and slowly my vision returned. My heart was pounding and I was scared. I assumed that I may not be drinking enough water as my thirst had intensified. I laid down on the couch and called the doctor. 

"You again?" Dr. Susan said, as she walked in cheerily.  I explained to her what had happened and how I was feeling. I told her my symptoms and about the fatigue.  She told me that I probably had an extended version of the flu and my body was just taking time to recover.  I left, again with no answers. 

It was closing in on the end of March and Easter was approaching. My priest had asked Matt and I do lead music for Maundy Thursday. I was too weak to help, but I remember going to the service that evening.  I recall kneeling during prayer time and weeping.  I didn't know why.  Maybe I was exhausted and tired of being sick.  Maybe it was the fear that something terrible was wrong with me.  Maybe it was the lack of emotional connection that I seemed to possess with everyone around me.  I longed for a connection.  I just did not know what was wrong. 

Good Friday had arrived.  My daughter's best friend was spending the night and I was doing my usual ritual of Neti Pot, steaming the sinuses, and juicing.  I was working so hard to regain my strength and health, but I was just maintaining and I had no idea what was coming.

Soon after falling asleep on the couch at 11PM, I had a nightmare.  In the dream, a man with a dark & powerful aura was dressed in dark clothing. He placed his hands on my back and began pushing me down into the ground.  As I struggled to escape his powerful grip,  I realized that I couldn't breathe.  Feeling like I was going to die, I screamed out, "MOM!" Then I jolted awake.

 quiet winter snow...   

quiet winter snow...

 

My heart was pounding as I realized that I was only dreaming. I was extremely drowsy upon waking, as if I had been drugged. I fell back asleep.  I awoke again at 3AM. The house was hot. I was hot. I got up and opened a window.  The snow was falling silently outside and all was quiet in the house. I placed a chair by the window and let the chill cool my body as tiny flakes of snow blew in through the screen hitting my face.  I closed my eyes and said a prayer.  "Dear God, please help me. I feel so alone.  Have you left me God?"  Silence.  Snow.  Cold.  No answer.  I got up and turned down the thermostat, then I laid back down to go to sleep.  Little did I know, this would be the last night that I would sleep for almost eight weeks of torturous hell.

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Portable versus Traditional FIR Sauna

My Lyme Story Part III: What is wrong with me?