12 Years Later: A Letter to My Crohn's Disease
It’s safe to say the month of July has been my least favorite month for the last 12 years. July 23, 2005 was my own personal “D-day”…the day I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. I managed to stay out of the hospital and control my disease with oral medication until July 2008…fast forward to July 2015 and I was hospitalized with my third bowel obstruction in 16 months and told I would need bowel resection surgery. The month of July is just not my friend! When I got engaged my mom and I looked at one another and knew the wedding would not be planned during that month.
As August approaches, I always feel a bit of relief. I can hardly believe yesterday marks 12 years since I was told I had a chronic illness, for which there is no cure, and one year since I started this blog. Here’s a letter to my old friend, Crohn’s.
You’ve been a part of me for so long now, it’s difficult for me to remember my life before you. You’ve challenged me, shaken me to the core, tested me and taught me. You’ve pushed me to my limits, but grounded me at the same time. You’ve caused me to think about health in a whole different light. The stigma of living with you and the lack of education out there about what you are surprises me to this day. You are so much more than a “bathroom” disease. You are so much more than a bad stomachache. You demand constant attention and don’t care who has plans, because you do things on your own watch.
You perplex me just when I think we’re in a good place and I have you figured out. You love to play hard to get and rarely take my feelings or worries into consideration. You test my patience and have created a constant inner dialogue in my head since the moment the doctor opened up his mouth and uttered the words… “You have Crohn’s disease.”
I will give you credit though – for the most part you’ve responded well to medication and allowed me to keep my drug regimen in check the last nine years. I’m thankful you’ve enabled me to stay on Humira and that I have yet to build an antibody to the drug, even though I went off of it for three months while healing from my bowel resection surgery. You obviously love when I’m pregnant…you tempt me to want a huge family! Even though you’ve stricken me with several hospital stays, surgery, scary ER visits, tests, pokes and prods…you stayed silent on my wedding day and enabled me to become a mom without causing one complication or issue. For that, I am eternally grateful.
You’ve also empowered me and brought clarity to my life about what’s important and how far a compassionate heart can go. While most of the time I think of you as my greatest enemy, at times you’re also my greatest ally. You show me people’s true character, and who is a true friend. You shed light on who I can lean on when I’m too weak to stand on my own. You helped me navigate relationships and realize that Bobby was the best person and caretaker a woman could ask for. When you decided to strike I was a frail 21-year-old girl, fresh out of college, wondering how I was ever going to live a normal life and work full-time. In the last dozen years, you’ve been with me every step of the way and witnessed firsthand how I’ve overcome each setback, each flare-up, all the scares and all the daily worries. I hope you’re scared of me now.
Here’s to many more years,
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