Continuing the Journey : Take Three

If you just happened upon my little corner of the world wide web, I suggest you go back two posts and start from the beginning to catch up....

Moving to NC at 21 years old, sicker than a dog, happy to be released from adult pressures for the moment; the time has come to figure out what the hell is going on with my body.

Now listen, I'm a completely stubborn and determined person. When I have my eyes set on something, I will not stop until, whatever it is, is in my possession. I did not want to sit and have a pity party. I did not want people lavishing their sympathies on me (quite frankly, don't want it- don't need it), there are others suffering a lot more than me so just because I'm sitting in front of your face doesn't mean I warrant your sympathies and pathetic looks.

With that being said, I signed back up for college.

I took online classes first, then gradually built myself back up to taking campus classes. I commuted an hour each way to campus since my mom lives in the "hills" of NC~

Since being a student again I was able to jump on my mother's health insurance. A year after moving to NC I even went back to work. All the while being fatigued beyond belief and in constant abdominal pain.

No I don't want a gold star sticker.

I just want to prove to any of you pansies out there that if you put your mind to it, stop having a pity party, you can do anything. (Disclaimer: if you are truly too physically tired and fatigued to do stuff- by all means please take care of yourself and get better. I'm not saying your weak for not "doing stuff", just don't let whatever is going on control you or dictate your life.)

Oh I'm sure there were family, friends, acquaintances, who may have thought I was digging my own grave, but then what is living worth if I just sit on my dupa all day long thinking about how physically bad I feel?

How about this: you do what you feel is right for your body, and trust me to do what is right for myself and my body?

During this time between 2001-02, I started college again, went back to work, and was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease. That diagnosis was not easy to get to, it took a lot of doctor appointments, a lot of questions, and a lot of poking where I didn't need to be poked. *hmph*

When I first started to see my mom's primary care physician, my hemoglobin count was four. Yes, single digit, number 4. The normal range is 12-14.

(explanation: your hemoglobin is what carries the oxygen in your blood to various muscles and organs. At a count of four I probably should have been dead.)

Needless to say I was iron-deficient anemic. Had stool samples done and blood was escaping through the wrong end. Which brought me to a Gastroenterologist. Oh what fun to be the only person under 50 years of age in a waiting room. Talk about uncomfortable.

And my doctor didn't have a really good bedside manner. He thought I was taking this as a joke. Well lets just forget that some people laugh out of nervousness! Geez.

There was only one way to treat this: his way. After I did what I was told, took the recommended drugs- some mesalamine, prednisone, and then the hottest corticosteroid out there for Crohn's and Colitis: Pentasa. Oh Pentasa. You worked for a while, then something terrible happened. I got even sicker! Thanks a lot!

I started Pentasa probably in late 2003 or early 2004, after I had been on it about a year an abcess formed and attached itself to the wall of my intestines. During this time I had graduated with my AAS and started a "real job" with some really great and awesome benefits. These totally awesome health benefits paid a surgeon to take two feet of intestine out of my body. Thief!

Ok so it was "diseased" intestine, but it was mine nonetheless.

I felt great for about five years after that. In medical terms I was in "remission". Gosh. The only thing worse than having Crohn's or Colitis is Cancer. Ugh.

In those five years I met my husband who is totally loving and understanding and is overall really great for being a male. *sniggering* Ok so I didn't have the greatest male role model in my life, I was a very angry teenager and held a lot of bitterness and hated men. No I was never a lesbian never will be because women are crazy and I have enough of my own baggage to carry thankyouverymuch.

I apologize for stammering and ranting, I feel like I'm "talking" really fast. I'm just trying to get a lot out there at once. So let me slow down a little bit...

It is my personal opinion that my anger, bitterness, un-forgiveness, and stress- oh yes the stress, as well as a piss-poor diet led to Crohn's Disease. Mock me if you will, don't be fooled by what the medical industry wants you to believe.

My parents divorced when I was about ten years old, yeah it happens, it still sucks a lot though. My mother remarried to a great guy who treats her like a queen and now they are in a place where he can give her whatever she wants. At the time I hated him. But remember, I hated all men, and my step-father was there so he got all my crap. He's a good man for not leaving my mom. Oh there were hard times, but they stuck through it. I'm glad they did.

Don't get me wrong, I love my father, he's my father. He gave me the X chromosome to be a female. Does that sound too harsh? Well I apologize, but that's about the extent of it. I repeat- I love my father. He is who he is and I've learned that I can't expect him to be something he is not. And that's ok. I didn't even need Dr. Phil to tell me that. My Father in Heaven did.

So through all that baggage and emotional crap I was able to find a good man that puts up with my junk. I love him. Lots.

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Back to where I was in my story:

During the almost five years of my remission, I got married, returned to school, had a baby, went on with my life.

Then my wonderful husband wanted to move back to Kansas... and I will end with that for today.