I’ve become that crazy lady at the mall. The one that overhears your conversation and chimes in. Yes her. She is me. But, why dear God why have I become her?
Today I went shopping for a dress at Anthropologie to wear at an upcoming wedding. I’m not my best after the IV treatment, so I did a lot of “leaning.” I leaned on the clothing racks, on chairs, the walls and the counter at the cash register. Needless to say, I was leaning on the counter when I overheard a discussion about Lyme disease. The woman buying clothes had just been bit by a tick. She was talking about whether or not to go to the doctor. She’d just had a baby and was concerned about antibiotics getting into her breast milk. So, naturally, upon hearing this predicament, I became “the lady.”
I’m not super outgoing so it was a bit painful to interrupt their conversation without knowing the least bit about either of them. I’m sure I turned a nice bright magenta to go perfectly with the pinky golden dress I was buying.
I told her my story. Gave her a bunch of ILADS facts on rates of infection, subpar testing etc. I urged her to go to the doctor. It just so happened the woman working the cash register had a lot to say as well. Her boyfriend had Lyme … So it made me feel less nusto-pants.
From the look on her face … We scared the bajesus out of her. Note to self: Work on your delivery.
Moral of the story (because there always is one) … I’m proud to be the crazy lady at the mall. I’m not going to tattoo a Lyme awareness ribbon on my cleavage or anything, but I will give people the information that no one gave me. I don’t want you to suffer. At all.
And I might buy a green hat … with sparkles … to get into character next time.