The Things I Haven’t Said

I’m choosing to write this today because I feel like it’s time to be brutally honest with my followers, which include my friends, family, coworkers and many other bloggers I’ve had the privilege of meeting, collaborating with and becoming very close with. During tough times, especially in the past year, other members of the IBD community have been the only people I tend to accept support from because they are honestly the only ones that have truly been where I’m walking right now. And where I’m walking right now is on glass.

I want to start out by saying, I’m sure many of you have noticed over the last several years of my blogging, whether it’s on this WordPress site or on my public facebook page, I don’t tend to share a lot of details about MY personal health. This has been for many reasons, but the main one is my privacy and how I choose to cope.


I’ve chosen today to go into depth about some of the health issues I am and have been dealing with because there comes a certain point when you struggle so much that hopefully by putting yourself out there for someone else, they feel less lonely in what they are going through. I was that kid at 16 & in many ways, because of the lack of education about my main diagnosis of Crohn’s Disease, I feel like I still am that kid today, just trying to catch up, just trying to tread above water.

I have had many cases of “what the hell is going on with my body” in the last 3 years to count – and a LOT of scary medical situations that could have taken a very serious turn. At the age of 27-28, I finally decided to get checked out for what I’m told is a neurodegenerative disorder. Honestly, 2 years later, I still don’t have a lot of answers as to why I’m unable to walk at certain times, my motor skills completely fail me and I have episodes where I am fully incapable of getting out of bed. When I started having bladder incontinence, excruciating pain in my hips and back, I got scared.

Mind you, while this was all going on, I was being tested and diagnosed with what we now know as Hemiplegic Migraines. I write about them here, if you didn’t know. But while I was struggling with the onset of the migraines, that present looking like strokes/seizures, take away your inability to talk and use one side of your body, I was also hiding this from all the people around me. My coworkers, everyone. These episodes became extremely frequent and didn’t seem to be slowing down. Since I’ve been on anti-seizure meds and many other preventative/abortive therapies including botched Botox and nerve blocks, I rarely have serious complications with them. I’m lucky that they are somewhat controlled, but I do get 1-2 serious ones a month and my surroundings are affected for a couple hours to a couple days, mostly with brain fog and aphasia (lack of finding words and getting them out correctly).


This was one of the most terrifying periods in my life, as these episodes in my body seemed to be taking over full control of my body. I would lose complete control over my incontinence and symptoms began to creep up that all added up to something degenerative. I was tested for ALS, MS, MG, MGUS, Parkinson’s & Multiple Myeloma. You name it, it was brought up and seriously discussed with me. Months and months of testing, waiting.. & still, I do struggle. One thing I cannot confidently say is that I have answers as to why I have episodes of being absolutely paralyzed, but I can say that with time, they have lessened. All I’ve been told by my neurology team is that my condition is likely degenerative and that it “will take time to process and diagnose within the next few years”. Reassuring. In the last 2 years, I’ve discovered that flying and travel have a huge part to do with these episodes, so I get extremely nervous when I travel – to the point where I’ve given friends keys to my room to help get me out of bed.

I’ve also struggled with old complications that keep popping up – regarding cysts and pain from an endometriosis diagnosis I got around the time of my IBD Dx. I guess I was ignorant in thinking that would go away. Most recently, I received a new and tough diagnosis of AVN, avascular necrosis of my left hip, which has been giving me a lot of issues. To say that was unexpected is to put it lightly. I have continued to make more room on my diagnosis plate, but I guess once it fills up, you can’t just set it aside like a buffet plate. Instead, I’ve found myself juggling multiple plates, and only dealing with the scoops that I absolutely need to at this very moment.


On to more current things.

Within the past year, I’ve been through things I never thought I would: I lost my job, I lost my health insurance (twice) & went unmedicated during the most stressful and physically difficult part of my life. I suddenly, a week before my 30th birthday, felt like I completely lost my identity and I had no idea if there were even pieces to pick up from the life that had just completely torn my heart into pieces.

In so many ways, the irony comes full circle when I think about it – I began college, fresh with a rotten diagnosis I knew nothing about. I declared that English and Writing would be my major. But within 6 months of being on campus and being in and out of the hospital, I knew I needed to change my major in order to receive good health insurance (so much irony now in 2018, as this was in 2005). I made the decision to get into the Health/Medical field and go for a 5 year program to be a Health Care Administrator with  Business degree as well. When I lost my job last year, I had NO idea what to do.. until I was offered a freelance position with a company I am currently writing for and feel very honored to be a part of their staff team. The irony, right? I left my Plan A, to get insurance for Plan B (IBD) and in the end, I couldn’t hold down a full-time job and I’m not even using that degree. So really, it looks like Plan C was there all along and I had no idea. On my hardest days, the most fatigued and pain-filled days, I try to remember that everything that I’ve done with my life has been for good reason and that this loss of my “old” self has made me gain so much more of my “new” self. Of course, it’s taken a LOT of time for me to heal and accept that I can’t work full-time (for right now) and maybe that is just not in the works for me. Right now, my full-time job is to make sure I’m taking care of all of the things that I need to do for myself, which include a lot of specialists, follow up and a lot of time spent in waiting rooms that look like this.


I still feel incomplete, less than and disappointing to others, especially family who have always had very full-time jobs. I struggle making it out of bed in the morning and it takes hours for me to actually feel like a real human being. People who don’t struggle with illness will read that and make a lot of assumptions: “must be nice not to work full-time”, must be nice to work from home, must be nice to have those options.” If I had the option to live a pain-free life, my friends, I would. There is nothing you can say to me to get me to say otherwise. I live every day in chronic pain that most people will never have to understand, but along with this comes an unexpected side effect – from others. Being misunderstood, having the stigma that I’m lazy, depressed or just simply don’t want to do things. Since I left my full-time employment, there was a time I was juggling 4 part-time jobs at once. I continue to spread myself thin, though I’m sure those around me don’t feel like I do as much as I could and that makes a person feel like they’re being kicked when they’re down. If purgatory lived in a home, right now it’s mine.


I’m kicking myself for wanting to give Stelara such a chance last year at this time, having to wait 8 months to get approved… when I know in my gut now, I probably just should have had my major resection at that point. Would I be here right now? I don’t know. Would I have a lot less feet of intestine? Yes, very likely. But stubborn as I am, I didn’t want to give up getting approved for the drug that would save nearly 20 feet of intestine for me if I didn’t need to give it up. Every. Single. Day. lately… I wish I could take that decision back.

For good measure, I had to take a nap at this point of the article, because as long as it is for you to read it, it takes a hell of a lot of brain power I don’t today & I’ve already got a 1000 steps in running to the bathroom this morning. I’ve already taken several breaks to try and write this without having to run up to the bathroom & it’s just not happening.

My New Norm

So these days, what else have I been up to? Mostly, right now, trying to get through day by day. I’m still serving my local community at a homeless shelter and really enjoy doing something for the better of others. Working in a community of people who need help so desperately has given me another way to serve people and form bonds with people in really tough situations has made me feel like my home life is a bit more stable than it could be. Really, it gives me perspective, but I am also extremely run down, exhausted and just plain worn down. You can’t pour from an empty cup, and right now… I’m waiting for my refill to come in the form of Stelara.


How to Support a Loved One With Chronic Illness

There are a lot of questions people ask when I tell them I’m flaring. Most of the questions are about how people can help, what they can bring over and when to come around, if at all.

Read the full article here at How to Support a Loved One With Chronic Illness


Not All Holidays Are Created Equal

For many people, holidays are a point of struggle. Memories, sometimes even flashbacks of hospital visits, can linger, blocking good holiday cheer. We sometimes fear that we may land in the hospital again for yet another holiday. This tends to be the case for many people dealing with flares around the holiday and it’s not easy to manage while in the spotlight socializing at holiday get-togethers. In fact, the stress of even getting there can be a big trigger.



Throwback picture of Halloween – a holiday every IBD-er can enjoy 🙂


Read the FULL article here:

Crohn’s Disease of the Vulva

In the last few articles (What Women Should Know About Living with IBD, and Crohn’s Disease in Your Where?), we’ve talked about the complications that the female reproductive system can endure, such as vulvar inflammation. In this article, we’ll dig a little deeper into how Crohn’s can manifest in the vulva, how to identify symptoms, and how it can be diagnosed. It’s not talked about enough, and far too many women suffer in silence, not knowing where they can find support.

Crohn’s disease of the vulva can be very painful.

Have you had experiences with vulvar inflammatory bowel disease? How did it affect your physical or mental health?

See the full post here at Crohn’s of the Vulva