Perks From a Pistol Packin' Texas Grandma
by Harriet Bishop
I'd been battling chronic Lyme, bartonella, babesiosis, ehrlichia, and morgellon's, for many years without any doctor having a clue to what was wrong. The ultimate affront came when a retired doctor and I were hanging onto the pool gutter, resting at the deep end after a fast butterfly lap at our competitive senior swim team practice.
I had just told him my muscles were really too sore after workouts these days, and I wasn't sure how long I could continue. My friend surprised me with a stern look, and admonished, "If you are having all the pain you SAY you are having, you had better look to your MOTIVATIONS, Harriet!" Stunned, I turned away ashamed. The camaraderie on the team sagged and was the never the same after that day, as I could no longer speak frankly to him. And I wasn't sure what he had told the others!
Years went by, and here in Texas when faced with big problems, we get out the 'big guns.' In fact, it was a .38 revolver that I bought 5 years ago perhaps thinking I could scare the unknown critters away, or armed with that gun I could at least feel more powerful!
To carry it in the glove compartment on the way to the firing range, and in my handbag while I registered at the desk for target practice, I had to buy a license to carry a concealed weapon. This involves a licensed teacher coming to the house weekly for a series of lessons with a textbook, followed by a written exam. After successfully passing the written test and nailing target practice at the firing range, the next step is to be photographed and fingerprinted. The teacher had brought the fingerprinting kit to our house, but he was most perplexed by the condition of the pads of my fingers.
The ink marks were nothing but a series of irregular, jagged cracks-no evidence of normal fingerprints. Yes, I knew I had 'dry skin' because several dermatologists had told me so. Yes, they crack and bleed, but those same dermatologists had told me that I caused it all myself! The teacher had never seen anything like it before, but he submitted all the materials to the Concealed Handgun Licensing Section of the Texas Department of Public Safety in Austin.
Naturally, the non-fingerprints didn't 'cut it' with those fine folks, and I had to get a special dispensation, with affidavits from people who had known me for a long time, affirming that I was who I said I was!
Now it is five years later, and I must go through a renewal process before my 80th birthday in September. Since 2005 I have been lucky enough to have had state-of-the-art treatment with Lyme literate health care practitioners. They have addressed each disorder in proper sequence. Guess what? I have my fingerprints back again!
Now maybe I'll need affidavits to prove I am the same lady who had no fingerprints in 2003! And maybe too the .38 revolver helped a little to scare off those pesky critters!
