You’ve seen the posts: “Click like” or “Retweet” to vote! An interaction with a post is a “vote” and after a certain amount of time the “votes” are tallied and a winner is declared. Magazines may use this type of crowdsourcing to decide their “best restaurants” or a photography web site may use it to choose a “cutest baby” photo.
I’ve been online, running web sites for myself and for others, since 1996 and this type of popularity contest is nothing new. It’s never going to go away because it’s inherent in our culture. It might be something we have to accept, up to a point. However, I take issue with using this type of “voting” for where we are now: choosing a “best” person from the online chronic illness community. Continue reading
If you have inflammatory bowel disease (IBD), or you love someone who does, you don’t need an awareness day to tell you the impact it has on your daily life. People living with Crohn’s disease or ulcerative colitis and their caregivers already have a vast education on IBD that can only be gained through experience. World IBD Day isn’t really for you.
The healthcare space isn’t a level playing field. Minority populations face complex challenges when it comes to accessing and receiving care, which is why April is designated as National Minority Health Month. In regards to inflammatory bowel disease, it’s not well known that Crohn’s disease and ulcerative colitis also affect minorities. Shawntel Bethea of Chronically Strong and Brooke Abbott of The Crazy Creole Mommy Chronicles discuss how they’ve been affected by healthcare disparity and offer concrete ideas on what can be done to start addressing healthcare gaps in their communities.
What’s it like to be a competitive swimmer and one day develop Crohn’s disease? Well, you don’t stop swimming! Hear Ryan Stevens, Crohn’s Guy, talk about the work he’s doing to raise awareness of IBD.
Is there always a piece of you that’s missing? Maybe a piece of information that you leave out when you meet new people. Do you keep your IBD secret because you might open yourself to problems at school or work?
Image © Pawe³ Windys http://www.freeimages.com/photographer/windys-39131
People sometimes tell me, “Oh, I’ve read your blog.” It’s often said almost sheepishly, as though it were something that were slightly distasteful or embarrassing. It does seem to take a little courage for people to tell me this, which also leads me to believe for every person who tells me this, there are others who are reading and yet never say anything.
For my part, I love it when people tell me they’ve read my writing. Especially when they don’t have IBD themselves or have a close friend or family member with the disease. While I do my best to reach people with IBD so that they have the information they need to make treatment decisions and live better, I also want to reach people who aren’t touched by IBD in order to recruit them as allies. After all, this is the very heart of awareness: people with IBD are already aware. We must reach those who have no reason to become educated about IBD, and offer them the tools to become aware.
Do you ever feel like the on that sticks out? I do, frequently. I’ve done my best to make the most of bad situations, but when it’s my child that is the one who “sticks out,” I don’t always react in the most rational, thought-out way.
A man approached me at an event, not an IBD-related one, and asked me what everyone was doing. The event was a walk at a local beach and it happened to be for food allergy awareness.
“This is a walk to raise funds and awareness of food allergy.”
“That’s strange,” he said to me, and made a face of disbelief.
“Why is that strange?” I said.
“Because you think it would be cancer or Alzheimer’s or something.” Continue reading
I’m not exactly sure what to call this feeling, so for a lack of a better phrase, I’m calling it “IBD survivor’s guilt.” This is not to take away from people who have lived through an actual horrific event, and have true survivor’s guilt. This is clearly not even close to being the same thing. But I think I’m probably not alone in this yet-unnamed feeling in the IBD community.
How do we cope with this grief? I don’t have any great answers. I just deal with it like I do any other emotion connected to IBD.