It felt like the flu. It took 10 doctors, a year, and $60,000 to get an answer.
My family’s harrowing journey to get a diagnosis after we were bitten by ticks — and what it says about our health system.
I opened a file drawer and pulled out 12.4 pounds of medical records organized in two large binders. Tucked inside the top binder’s front pocket was a grainy photo of my husband and me sitting on a misty beach on a small island near Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts. My husband, slim and fit, smiled at the camera, blissfully ignorant of what was about to happen. Our two sons, 10 and 12 years old, were just out of the camera’s range, playing in the surf. There was a date stamp burned into the lower right corner of the photo that said July 22, 2002.
This was our last day of perfect health.