Mice ate my VW, Flat tire on Recumbent, Barn roof leaking, lawn mower in the shop, left eye has mysterious growth.
Now I have a tick bite, a bullseye rash, a low grade fever and joint pain. This is to go along with my newly prescribed bottle of Doxycycline.
Connecticut is known for few things. Forensics, viagra and nuclear subs. We are the insurance capital of the world. We are the second producer in the world of helicopters and lunch boxes. We have the two largest casinos in America and also the highest taxes, second only to Sweden and Lithuania.
We also have our own disease.
A few years back a fair haired Connecticut born girl, who had spent most of her life in Iceland strangely enough, brought the disease to America. She had flown Pan-Am with a lay over in Bonn, before flying into LaGuardia. As her fever climbed, she sat quietly during a long, long car ride in the back seat of station wagon. She vomited quietly into her Electra Woman and Dyna-girl lunch box as they arrived in Lyme Connecticut.
Seeing her flush face, her mother shooed her down the cracked walkway towards the house. It was there, in the swaying, unmowed grass that a tiny tick who had been waiting so patiently for so long for someone to come by made his move. He nuzzled softly on the chub of her chubby knee and bit her.
He had his fill, taking the sickly blood with him, clinging to the little girl's sock to make his get away, slipping out just in time to avoid being tossed with the laundry.
Infected with a disease that Icelanders where immune to, the little girl, born in Connecticut and not instilled with Icelandic antibodies, unknowingly released the sickness that was named after the town she lived.
The little girl is grown up now and is none other than our own anneheart True story! (That I just slightly embellished on)