Category Archives: My Story

IBD Complicates Everything, Including Wedding Season

Being in a wedding party is a difficult time when you’re diagnosed young with inflammatory bowel disease (IBD). While it is an honor to be asked to participate, for me, it came with the challenges of being fitted for a dress while living with severe ulcerative colitis.

When I was in my early 20s, like many women, I was a frequent bridesmaid. In some cases, this meant being fitted for a dress that was picked out by the bride. All the women in the wedding party would order the same dress, in the proper size, and have it altered, if necessary.

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J-pouch Patient Bill of Rights

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I was overdue.

All of us who live with chronic illness know understand the difficulties of working in all the appointments and procedures. Even when doing OK, there’s a list to get through every year. Now with being over 40 years old, that list also continues to expand.

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About IBD Podcast Episode 80 – Am I Forgiven?

20 Years Later: The Matrix and My J-Pouch

Coming Clean About My IBD Mistakes

I’ve made many mistakes along my disease journey. The first, and most dangerous, was to believe that my fate was already sealed.
This post was sponsored by AbbVie Inc. Personal opinions and thoughts are my own.

Crohn’s and Colitis Awareness Week is December 1-7. If you have Crohn’s disease or ulcerative colitis, get tips from gastroenterologist Dr. Corey Siegel, a Crohn’s disease and ulcerative colitis expert, by visiting the online Expert Advice Tool before your next trip to the doctor’s office.

When I was 16, I was diagnosed with a disease I’d never heard of called ulcerative colitis. Approximately 700,000 people in the United States are affected by ulcerative colitis – a chronic inflammatory bowel disease (IBD) characterized by inflammation of the large intestine (colon and rectum). It is not caused by food or a contagious disease.

Those are the facts. Now, for the reality. Continue reading →

The Time I Ate A Big Mac (And My Doctor Paid For It)

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My first gastroenterologist came to me by circumstance. I was referred to a different physician in the same practice, but when I needed to get in sooner, he was the one that had room in his schedule to do my colonoscopy. He was the one that diagnosed me with ulcerative colitis, and sweated over my case in those early days when I was struggling to hold on to my colon.

It might not be everyone’s favorite, and it’s certainly not health food, but I still love them.
Image © The D
http://www.freeimages.com/photographer/TheD-29809

At some point after we’d managed to turn things around and I finally stopped bleeding, I came in for a follow-up to his office. I’d been on a low-fiber diet for quite some time, because that’s how treatment went in those days. I’m sure I felt deprived at times but I remember mostly being grateful that I could eat at all. In the hospital I received nutrition through an IV and could eat no food, so even soft low-fiber foods were a step up. I’m sure I wanted a green salad, but a steady diet of turkey and mashed potatoes was the thing that was going to put the 20 pounds I needed back on my body. Continue reading →

My High School Teachers And My IBD

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Graduation day! That’s me and my dad, who passed away in 1998. Helloooo prednisone moon face on me.

After my first colonoscopy and my diagnosis of ulcerative colitis, I spent about 40 days in the hospital. I was a junior in high school, so that whole situation had to be dealt with. Thankfully I was a good student, and when it was time to deal with homework and missing class, I was able to cope with much of it.

I had great teachers in high school — for the most part. Continue reading →

The People You Meet In The Hospital

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A scene from Airplane!:

Dr Rumack: You’d better tell the Captain we’ve got to land as soon as we can. This woman has to be gotten to a hospital.
Elaine Dickinson: A hospital? What is it?
Dr Rumack: It’s a big building with patients, but that’s not important right now.

The first time I was hospitalized, I was only 16. I’d never been in the hospital before, though of course I had family members who were, so I didn’t really need a primer on being an inpatient. However, what I could not have been prepared for was the people I met while on the inside.

I’m not speaking of doctors. Or nurses. Of whom I met plenty, of course. What I’m speaking of is roommates.

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A Diagnosis: Yay.

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My first colonoscopy took place at the hospital, so immediately after it was over, I was taken upstairs and admitted. Now, I’d never been sick in my life: being treated with antibiotics for a rash a few months earlier and chickenpox when I was 12 were the only other two times that I received medical care. This, of course, was on a completely different scale. I was taken upstairs to the pediatrics ward.

The first — and only — book available to me when I was diagnosed at the age of 16. It was small, short, and didn’t contain much current information.

Here’s the thing about being in peds as a teen: you’re not a small child, so much of what goes on there doesn’t help you. The staff is used to dealing with common childhood illnesses, and while IBD is not rare, I’d venture to say they didn’t see it very often. In the small community hospital where I was treated, I actually saw very few other children. Once a classmate was admitted for appendicitis and an appendectomy. She, of course, left after a few days. Other than that, I saw mostly young adults in the pediatrics ward. Maybe our community just had healthy kids, or kids who needed specialized care went into Detroit for Henry Ford, or down to Ann Arbor for the University of Michigan.

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My First Colonoscopy And Getting A Diagnosis

I’ve made many mistakes along my disease journey. The first, and most dangerous, was to believe that my fate was already sealed. This post was sponsored by AbbVie Inc. Personal opinions and thoughts are my own.

I’ve made many mistakes along my disease journey. The first, and most dangerous, was to believe that my fate was already sealed.
This post was sponsored by AbbVie Inc. Personal opinions and thoughts are my own.