N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 0

ELIOT KATZ

Lyme Code

When Justin woke up on Monday, the Lyme disease spirochetes had entered the section of his brain that retained memories of passwords, numerical codes, and phone numbers.

In his Lyme-induced paranoia of the last two years, he'd added security to his apartment front door. He'd replaced his wooden door with a steel one equipped with iron safety locks. And there was a code he needed to type into the new alarm system in order to enter or leave. He couldn't remember the code and couldn't get out the door.

He thought of calling the alarm company for help but realized the number was beyond his memory's grasp.

He decided he'd have to break a window to get out, and not worry about tripping the alarm. When he got to the window, he realized he was on about the 12th or 13th floor--no way out the window.

Why had he gotten rid of his cell phone, where he had his friends' and co-workers' phone numbers saved? From his new perspective, a cell phone-induced ear or brain tumor seemed so far into the future.

He had an email account, but needed a password to log on to his computer.

He had enough food to last about 3 days. Surely, one of his friends or co-workers would call him up by then to see where he'd been, and he could enlist their help in getting him out of his apartment and to a grocery store. He was supposed to be at work today, wasn't he?

Justin had plenty of anti-Lyme herbs in his apartment. He would start taking massive doses of Samento to see if that would help recover his alarm-code memory in time to beat the upcoming food shortage.

Three days went by and nobody called. He had a bag of unopened potato chips that he'd recently decided not to eat when one of his doctors told him the nightshade vegetables could worsen his Lyme-arthritis joint pains.

How long could he survive with a few potato chips every couple of hours and all the water he could drink? He would look it up on the web if he could remember the computer's password.

During the next week, Justin got addicted to TV detective shows while he survived on potato chips and water and waited for a friend or co-worker to call.