As a child, I was raised in the French countryside in the Dordogne. From around the age of five, I’d help local farmers by collecting eggs and herding cows in the fields. I was also naturally curious and adventurous and would go exploring in the bushes. I’d often end up covered in ticks and an old lady at the farm would put me in an iron bath and brush them off me. This is not the right way of removing them, which is to pull them out of the skin, as soon as possible, to prevent the transmission of disease. It should often be followed by a course of antibiotics.
The next day, I’d be covered in bruising and red marks, which we now call a “bullmark”, or the “bulls-eye” rash, medically known as Erythema migrans, a hallmark symptom of Lyme disease. My mum was always horrified and took me to the doctor, who thought it was an allergic reaction to a bite and prescribed me an antihistamine. But due to a lack of awareness years ago, nobody ever mentioned Lyme disease.
