What it feels like to suffer from agitated Lyme Disease.
Many a boneheaded parasitic critter-enthusiast has pondered the horizons ‘pon blood-drinking | blood-letting of a prized, unwitting victim - How does the victim feel? What if I abuse the parasites, then set them on him? etc. etc. - various other things, portending fantasies upon bloodletting - a psychological un-wellness, that we’d call it, these days, yet many a man (isn’t it usually a man? Or some problem subsequent to abuse that man hath wrought upon a person, and then…?), … Well, okay. Not many a man, let’s not accommodate grandiosity, here. It’s a slight fetish, of a nominal crowd of people. Most people have never even come across ticks or bedbugs, and I did my best to fertilize the slight areas in town, in which they show up, seasonally, and now what? They’ve shown up in my room, and I’ve got a first-hand account of the trauma associated with this sort of affliction - Lyme Disease, as it were - in this instance, a fairly weak strain, yet potent enough, in how it ...