I  never saw the bullet that hit me in 2000. It was no larger than the period at the end of this sentence.

I was a healthy, active 43-year-old woman, employed by my county's Sheriff's Department. Suddenly I couldn't remember things, had difficulty concentrating, developed overwhelming fatigue and severe vertigo, was experiencing joint pain and a host of other symptoms.

Thus began a seven year nightmare that Stephen King couldn't have conjured up in his wildest nightmares.

I collapsed in the jail one night at work and was rushed by ambulance to the hospital. A CAT scan was performed by the ER doctor, who said I was exhibiting symptoms of MS. The scan was negative. He suggested I see my regular doctor to have an MRI of the brain performed. It too was negative.

Over the next six years, I saw over 30 "medical specialists" who gave me a multitude of diagnosis', all of which turned out to be incorrect - Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, "It's just old age" and the diagnosis the majority of those of us suffering from chronic disseminated Lyme Disease are given - "It's all in your head. You just need a psychiatrist." My symptoms continued to worsen. I left the Sheriff's Department and went to work as a security guard.

Several times during this period, I collapsed and was rushed to the Emergency Room with abdominal pain, heart palpitations, vertigo. I already had documented T wave abnormalities and had developed a heart murmur. A bone scan revealed my knees and spine were deteriorating. I was forced to take medical leave while undergoing a battery of testing, all of which revealed nothing. My employer was demanding a diagnosis. I couldn't give them one as my doctors were clueless as to what was wrong with me. I was fired while still on medical leave.

A year passed before I could walk without staggering and was well enough to try to hold a job again. I went to work for Wal-Mart and at the time of my hire, fully disclosed the health problems I'd been having. When the Personnel Manager suggested cashiering as a position for me, I explained my health problems and the excruciating pain I was constantly in might make cashiering duties impossible for me to perform. Nevertheless, I said I was willing to give cashiering a try. I just wanted to be able to work to keep up with the staggering medical bills brought on by the unnamed monster that had stolen my life as I'd known it.

My tenure at Wal-Mart was a nightmare. Despite all the medical documentation I'd provided to management, some managers and employees spread a rumor around the store that I was faking my illness and symptoms. Having my written medical restrictions followed was a daily battle. I was harassed, ridiculed and outright slandered merely for being sick. I collapsed several more times and was rushed to Urgent Care. Still, no one could figure out what was wrong with me. When I finally became too ill to cashier, two store managers moved me into other positions that weren't as physically demanding - and which I excelled at performance-wise.

In February, 2005, I was forced onto medical leave by the Store Manager. He told me there were "no positions available for someone with your medical restrictions" even though I had been working other positions for 3 weeks prior. Other employees had the same medical restrictions I did, yet were not forced onto medical leave as I was.

By this time I was totally disabled, suffering from over 50 symptoms of Lyme - temporary paralysis of my limbs, bouts of blindness, headaches, vision problems, severe ribcage pain, chest pains, digestive problems - the list went on and on. Still, no one had given me a diagnosis.
Finally the pain clinic decided the best course of action would be to inject steroids next to my heart and lung. I was against having this done and stated so repeatedly. I'd now been in excruciating pain for six long years and was suffering from insomnia and sleep disturbances. I was exhausted. To make matters worse, my doctors had all taken the attitude I was nothing but a "head case". They became rude and dismissve to me, which infuriated me.
I knew my illness was not all in my head!

I felt having these injections was not a wise thing to do, especially since there was still no diagnosis. However, the clinic refused to treat me further unless I agreed to having this procedure done. I just wanted relief from the excruciating pain, so made the appointment. In pre-op, I voiced my objections to being essentially "emotionally blackmailed" into having the injections. The surgeon refused to do the procedure at the last minute. I was in tears. The next thing I knew, a psychiatrist appeared at my bedside. I was furious! Apparently none of these doctors could understand that being in constant excruciating pain for six long years, being sleep deprived (among a host of other symptoms) and being dismissed as a "head case" would make one tearful. The shrink noted in my medical records "Extreme caution is advised in proceeding with this patient due to significant psychological issues." It was the last slap in the face I would take from that clinic. I left and sought a diagnosis elsewhere. I'm glad I never had the injections done as steroids are the WORST thing that can be given to someone with Lyme Disease!

A couple months later, after seeing other doctors who had no answers, I gave up seeking a diagnosis completely. I was fed up with our broken health care system. By this time my condition had worsened to the point where I spent every day lying on the couch, barely able to walk from one room of my house to the next. My husband was frantic and prayed a diagnosis would be found. The next day, friends with no medical training whatsoever said to him "It sounds like Pat has Lyme Disease." He phoned the county health department, who immediately scheduled an appointment with one of two LLMD's (Lyme literate physicians) in the state of Wisconsin. The following night I found a tick crawling across my desk.

Financially destroyed by the medical bills accrued between non-essential (to Lyme) tests and treatments for me and my husband's terminal illness, I spent day after day filling out forms for financial assistance from anyone. No one would help. Faced with over $40,000 in my medical bills alone and unable to work, we were forced to try to survive on my husband's meager Social Security Disability income and take out a second mortgage on our home. I'd gone from a $14.00 per hour job to standing in line at food pantries in order to be able to eat. Unemployment determined I was ineligible for benefits because I was too sick to work. Social Security Disability denied me benefits, stating I wasn't sick enough to be considered disabled, despite my LLMD's assurances to the contrary.The short and long term disability insurance I'd paid for through Wal-Mart refused to pay me a cent. No attorney would take my case to sue the clinic for malpractice, their reasoning being Lyme Disease would be too hard to prove and my case didn't fit the CDC's inaccurate, outdated guidelines.

Just before Christmas 2006, it was discovered I'd been suffering from a chronic gallbladder infection for years that the clinic doctors had also failed to diagnose, despite my telling them I felt my gallbladder was infected. I underwent surgery to remove my gallbladder and well over 20 stones. At the same time, I began experiencing severe chest pains, heart palpitations, shortness of breath and numbness on the left side of my body.
After seven months on oral antibiotics, my LLMD said I was a case of "antibiotic failure" and that I needed the $300 per day IV Rocephin PICC line to try to get my disease into remission. I also needed to see a cardiologist as he felt my heart was inflamed.

None of this was to happen, as in March of 2006, Wal-Mart sent me a certified letter stating that they were terminating me while I was on medical leave.
I now have no health insurance and can't afford my LLMD appointments or the treatment I need to bring my Lyme Disease into remission.
My husband's cancer returned months ago...he needs a procedure to locate the source of the cancer cells to arrest the spread of the cancer. He also needs surgery to implant stents in his legs to prevent potential amputation.
Unable to afford any of the above, my disease is now going untreated and is being left to progress. My husband's cancer has been left to spread and the condition of his legs and feet have deteriorated to the point he can barely walk.

In a country reputed to have the best health care system in the world (although I beg to disagree with that!), I find the situation my husband and I are now in nothing short of deplorable. Unfortunately, our story isn't that different from that of other Lyme victims and their families. In fact, many have much worse horror stories to tell.

I've since educated myself on Lyme Disease and have become a Lyme advocate, working to get legislation passed that will protect the doctors treating Lyme from censure by medical licensing boards, insurance companies and other physicians who adhere to the CDC's inaccurate and outdated Lyme treatment guidelines - and will ensure that each of us suffering from Lyme Disease begin receiving the adequate diagnosis and treatment we are currently being denied on all fronts.

Lyme Disease is called "The Thief of Many Lives". It may steal my life...but I'm going down fighting.