Portrait of Bob and his meds

I was digging through my supplies the other day and realized that I wanted to visually document the preposterous amount of supplements, prescription drugs, Chinese medicine, homeopathics, needles, syringes, saline bags, and so on that I have in my Lyme-fighting arsenal. Even I was amazed (and depressed about) how many jars, bottles, vials, tubes, bags, and so forth I have purchased over the years, not to mention that my poor liver and kidneys and other body parts have had to assimilate, break down, and excrete these drugs. All this stuff has cost hundreds of dollars, if not thousands. 

I also thought it would be good for my doctors (and any doctors reading this) to get a sense of what a typical chronic-Lyme disease patient has to deal with over time. 

I decided to organize them outdoors, on top of my defunct hot tub. (A friend Photoshop'ed in the sky, replacing the dead plants and drab redwood wall). Looks kind of goofy, but I did the setup of all the bottles and whatnot there simply because there was good light for a photo, and I don't have another flat surface to put everything on.

It's a full-time job just remembering what to take, and when!

In the lower photo you can see the general layout. The glass vials in the middle are empty Ceftriaxone (AKA Rocephin, an antibiotic) IV bottles, along with tiny ones that were filled with glutathione and phosphatidyl choline, which I take IV to help the liver do its detox job better.  

Rx drugs are on the right, Chinese herbs are just behind the Rocephin bottles and in the little plastic (front, left). Homeopathics are in the dropper bottles behind the Chinese herbs. Just about everything else are supplements (aminos, vitamins, and various herbs, heavy-metal binders, etc). My IV pole with some Rocephin in the bag/line is standing next to me. 

On the back, right are glass vials of seawater from some supposedly-magical source off the coast of France. A homeopath/naturopath sold me those. It's called Quinton water. Supposedly good JuJu in that water, but I didn't notice anything. You have to break off the tip of a glass vial in order to get the Quinton water out. A tad scarey the first couple of times. I was afraid I'd cut myself, not to mention my fear of drinking little glass shards. In the back, middle, are heparin and saline flushes (pre-loaded single-use syringes). You go through a lot of those if you have a PICC or a Port. 

I had forgotten about some of these chapters of my treatment. I'd rather not remember, actually. There have been so many!

A bit more of a close-up to make things more visible.