When Life Hands You Lymes – #53

Happy Friday, people! Today I’m happy to share with you the 53rd segment of my fictional story, When Life Hands You Lymes. I hope you enjoy it and as always, feedback is delightedly welcomed. 
Once Dad was gone, I wearily inched my leg over the side of the hammock; it was time for me to head inside for my morning ritual of herbal teas, tinctures and supposedly edible concoctions I could barely gag down. All compliments of the latest specialist we’d visited three weeks ago. The thrice daily regime she had me on sometimes felt like it was going to steal away what little enjoyment I had left in life. I hated it. 
“Good morning, Madalyn.” Mom’s cheerful greeting welcomed me into my little kitchenette. “Happy birthday.” Mom gave me a lingering hug, then kissed the top of my head. “Looks like I’ll be taller than at least one of my children.” Mom grinned at me. 
I felt her good mood seeping into my soul. “Just you wait,” I waved a hand at the counter in front of me. “There’s got to be some growth formula mixed in here somewhere.” 
Mom worked alongside me measuring and mixing until I had everything ready and I could gulp down the awful stuff. 
“I was wondering, what would you think of going out to breakfast with me?” Mom asked after I finished shivering and gasping. 
I stopped and considered her offer. Breakfast with Mom, that sounded like fun. It had been a long time since I’d slept last, though, so maybe it wasn’t the best idea. I glanced at my iPhone, I’d been awake for over eighteen hours and even though I was almost too exhausted to function, I couldn’t seem to drift off into dreamland. 
“Why can’t I sleep, Mom?” Leaving the kitchenette, I sprawled across one of the couches in my sitting room. 
Mom followed me and perched on the edge of a chair catty-corner to where I was lying. “We’ve been trying to find the reason for that.” Mom’s hands were folded primly in her lap, signaling that she was about to say more. “I know it’s hard for you to be sick, honey. We’ve been doing all we know to do to try and figure out how to help you get better. This sleeplessness sure does…” Mom’s voice trailed off. 
“Sure does make being me a pain?” I offered. 
“That’s kind of what I was getting at.” Mom nodded. “I wish I knew what I could do to help you.” 
“Don’t we all.” I felt my eyes drifting closed, maybe I would actually be able to sleep now. 
The first rounds of bad insomnia had hit several months earlier. Before that I’d endured nights on and off of being awake until the wee hours of the morning, but never had it happened before that I stayed up an entire 24 hour period just because sleep refused to visit my weary body. My life was soon a confusing mix of 20 hour sleeping stints and then unnaturally long times of being awake. No one knew why and I hated it. 

Yawning, I looked around the room. Someone, probably Mom, had thrown a blanket on me and closed my curtains, dimming everything. My mouth stretched open in another yawn as I pulled my phone up and looked at the time. Three-twenty. I’d gotten around seven hours of sleep. That should help perk me up for my birthday party. 
The word party made me snort. For my fifteenth birthday we had literally invited three hundred people, catered the event and had a suburb time hanging out with organized volleyball, basketball, and baseball games, as well as races, food eating contests and finishing the night off with fireworks. It was the most talked about event of the year at school. 
Tonight I was having five of my friends over to play a board game or watch a movie after supper. Big, big difference. I ran my hands through my rumbled hair, trying to comprehend all the changes that were taking place in my life. Most of the time I just focused on the moment I was in, blocking out what life had been like before. It was too hard to think of all I had given up and for what? 
Feeling myself begin to slid into a valley of self-pity, I sat up and punched my hand with my other fist. “Today, Madalyn, is going to be amazing.” I stood up, ignoring the aches that screamed at me and hobbled into the kitchenette to get my second round of disgusting remedies for the day.

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