This Montreal Resident Caught Lyme Disease In A Downtown Park — Here's What She Learned
Jasmine Rochereul's world was turned upside down when she found herself grappling with Post-Treatment Lyme Disease Syndrome (PTLDS), a complication of Lyme disease. Unbeknownst to her, she was infected within Montreal city bounds, not typically associated with such a risk.
She recounts her journey through the Quebec health care system, from dismissive doctors to ambiguous diagnoses, revealing an alarming blind spot for early detection and chronic Lyme disease management. This is a tale of resilience, health care navigation, and a call to awareness because Lyme is alive and well, and not just in wooded areas.
Struggling for a diagnosis
"I feel like [Quebec health care] works very well when you're in an emergency situation," Jasmine Rochereul tells me over Zoom, but "it's very bad at catching stuff early on."
Rochereul most likely caught Lyme disease while spending time in either Jeanne Mance Park or the waterfront at Verdun Beach.
Her first doctor visit took place at a private clinic in Quebec, where she says her doctor brushed aside her concerns after a blood panel and a mono test came back with negative results. "She verbatim told me to stop being hysterical," Rochereul said.
"I kind of stopped trying to solve the issue and just went about my life feeling not that great all the time," she added. That is, until a doctor in the United States suggested the possibility of Rochereul having Lyme disease.
At the time, it felt implausible — no one had ever warned her that the city had documented cases of Lyme, let alone that you could catch it from parks as popular and downtown as Jeanne Mance. But the tests came back positive, meaning Rochereul had likely been incubating the disease for up to six months.
Finding a treatment plan
Lyme disease is transferred via the bite of the blacklegged or deer tick, a species of tick that has been found in areas of Quebec from Estrie and Outaouais to Montreal. Early signs of a Lyme infection include a rash that often spreads to form the shape of a circle or a bullseye. Later symptoms can become more severe, including facial paralysis, numbness in the limbs, joint swelling and even heart palpitations and chest pain.
Early treatment of Lyme is crucial to avoid complications like PTLDS, according to Health Canada, so Rochereul was immediately put on a month-long program of antibiotics.
"I took them and felt really, really awful, like, actively more sick," Rochereul said, "but it's antibiotics: you've got to finish your month.
"And so I finished my month and waited till I felt better from it. And I never did."
That was the beginning of what Rochereul, who already manages other chronic illnesses, came to know as long Lyme disease. But trying to get continued care in Quebec proved to be far more challenging than her initial treatment in the States.
Stuck in health care limbo
Although Rochereul is registered with the RAMQ, the process of getting a referral to an infectious disease specialist was gruelling. A general practitioner would only be able to prescribe that first month of antibiotics — which didn't work for Rochereul.
Doctor's appointments were planned and then cancelled, and specialists refused to see her without a referral from another specialist (who also required a referral which, as you can imagine, led to complications).
Eventually, she was pointed in the direction of the Jewish General Hospital's infectious diseases walk-in clinic. Often used by those who are seeking STI tests, she said the clinic proved to be another roadblock. Rochereul says doctors told her that since she had undergone a month of antibiotics, she probably didn't actually have Lyme disease in the first place, disregarding previous tests due to their United States origins. So they ran more bloodwork… and Rochereul never heard back.
Finally, some results
"Then Santé Quebec called me and were like, 'Hey, we're trying to figure out where you got Lyme disease.' So the Quebec blood tests came back positive." But Rochereul was never directly contacted by the hospital. Instead, she returned in-person, meeting a friendly intern who recommended that she visit Montreal's long COVID clinic, which also treats those with long Lyme.
She's now waiting to start intravenous antibiotics, which would involve wearing a semi-permanent IV drip to treat what has now become a major part of Rochereul's everyday life.
"It's still going on, most likely because it wasn't treated right away," she told me, decrying the health care system as unintuitive, especially to those who don't speak French.
But the most important takeaway to Rochereul's mind is that the disease is alive and well in Montreal, "not just in the wooded areas of the West Island."
Keeping yourself safe
Doing regular tick checks, wearing high-powered bug spray and being aware of your surroundings are some of the primary ways Montrealers can keep themselves safe.
According to Santé Quebec, "Ticks do not jump, do not fly and do not drop from a height (for example, from a branch). They can, however, cling to you or your pet when you are in contact with plants in a garden, in landscaping, in the forest, in wooded areas and in tall grass. The best way to prevent Lyme disease is to avoid tick bites during outdoor activities such as gardening, walks in the forest, golf, hunting, fishing, camping, etc."
Rochereul, now living with the long-term effects of not knowing the risks, says she tries to be understanding. "Otherwise I'd be very angry all the time," she said.
"Every time I think about that first doctor," the one who failed to treat her symptoms with understanding, "I get very angry."
As Rochereul continues her battle against PTLDS, she hopes her story serves as a wake-up call. Her final message is a potent one: "If the system wasn't so overwhelmed, maybe more people would be getting diagnosed with Lyme disease… and we'd be more aware that it's around."
This article's cover image was used for illustrative purposes only.
