Crohn’s is an inflammatory bowel disease which causes inflammation in the gut, intestines and digestive tract. Mostly affecting the small intestine and colon. But, it can affect anywhere from rectum to mouth.
What causes Crohn’s? Well, it’s unknown truly what causes one to have Crohn’s disease. But many believe that it’s caused by a combination of the environment, an overreaction of the immune system, or genetic. The true known cause is a mystery, and sometimes it seems it could just be the luck of the draw.
Crohn’s can lead to symptoms like abdominal pain, diarrhea, fatigue, dehydration, and malnutrition. Some people, like in my case, experience the severe and more ‘rare’ complications, like abscesses, fistulas, perforations, bowel obstructions/blockages, and frequent infections.
Crohn’s is an autoimmune condition, meaning that a person with Crohn’s immune system mistakenly attacks healthy tissue causes inflammation. Basically, the immune system has been rewired to believe that its own body is a foreign invader, and it spends its time tirelessly fighting itself.
How is Crohn’s diagnosed? There are several ways to be diagnosed with Crohn’s.
Colonoscopies
Stool Cultures
Blood Tests
Upper Endoscopy
Biopsies
CT Scan/MRI
Capsule Endoscopy
Upper/Lower GI Series
Some Facts
Now, the real question everyone is wondering, is there a cure?
No, there is no cure for Crohn’s disease. There are only ways to try and achieve remission or alleviate the symptoms. Infusion therapy, biologics, steroids (which cannot be long term as those can cause serious irreparable damage to the body), Medications (like opioids and temporary painkillers). There are surgical procedures done to many as well, including fistula repairs, and the obvious most well known – ostomies (ileostomy or permanent colostomies where the colon is removed). Self care alone can cause some positive change, but is often times not ever enough. As a Crohn’s patient we sadly are often reliant on many drugs as it can often be our only way to function.
As a woman who has had Crohn’s for nearly seven years now, it can be quite frustrating not knowing how or why I developed this disease at just nineteen years old. And it’s even more frustrating when it can seem like there is no end in sight for thronging complications and symptoms. Crohn’s is a spectrum, so while some have mild to moderate disease, and some achieve remission rather quickly, I like many others, have a severe complex and rare case which comes with several hospitalizations and Er visits a year, 20 surgeries thus far, and long term opioid dependency just to be able to experience a pain scale level of 6 on good days. But now, with an Ostomy, we can hopefully begin to see some positive change in the perianal Crohn’s (my fistulas and recurring abscesses) which has so often caused me to have no quality of life.
Patients like myself devote most of our lives dedicated to trying to understand our own bodies, what we can and can’t eat, what limits we have with physical activities, and just figuring out ways to get through each and every day. Advocating for research, preaching awareness, and sometimes screaming from the roof tops for just anyone to listen to us and believe us. This disease can make you feel gaslit, crazy and like it’s all in your head. Finding good, empathetic and validating doctors can also be a major challenge, but once you do, it’s like a weight is lifted off of you, and you can take the load of advocating for yourself off, as your GI should be the one doing it for you.
So as always, if you or anyone you know suffer through this terrible illness, please remember you are not alone. And remind yourself that you are allowed to mourn the part of you that died with your diagnosis. No one expects constant positivity and you are allowed as many bad days as you need to properly heal. Just don’t ever give up. I know it feels as though it’s all you can do, but believe me, there is more to you and your life than Crohn’s. It may have stolen so much from you, but you are in the position to take it all back.
Why I made the hard decision to get my tubes removed, what a salpingectomy is, and why it was crucial for me to consider not having anymore kids.
Hello everyone, once again. I’ve decided to go over a sort of touchy subject, as it’s hard to acknowledge the fact that I will never be able to become pregnant again. At first, I was 100% excited to never be pregnant again (I hate being pregnant for an abundance of reasons, one being the morning sickness I got both times and another is the low confidence I get as I become bigger.) but once it actually happens, and you really cannot, it kind of sucks. Especially only being 21 (and I always dreamed of having tons of children). So why did I make this decision?
Well, for starters, I’ll give you a little backstory of my pregnancies. My first son, Caspian, was born when I was just 18. It was a week before I turned 17 that I found out I was in fact, pregnant. At first, I was TERRIFIED. But the idea of a child grew on me and I was overcome with love and happiness and excitement. My pregnancy was healthy for a while. Despite the morning sickness all day and night up until the day I gave birth at 37 weeks pregnant. Around 35 weeks, I fell out of bed one night, and hit the dresser. It wasn’t that hard, honestly and I mostly just cried because I was startled and it scared me. The day after my mom and I went out and did a maternity photo shoot in my Star Wars Padme cosplay. But when we were there, I was experiencing cramps in which I just assumed was braxton hicks contractions. But as they progressed, I finally decided it’d be best to go to the ER just to see what’s up. So we go, and there they see that I am in fact having real contractions, which were causing Caspian’s heart rate and oxygen to dip pretty drastically every time. They monitored me in the hospital for a week, before deciding to let me go home and informed me I was to come to the triage every 2 days to get monitored for an hour. My first time going back, they admitted me once more, and also did a scan, noticing that there was a placental abruption. I was freaked out. But they wanted me to wait until I was exactly 37 weeks, so there I waited yet another week until they finally induced me at midnight and I gave birth around 7:40 am to my little bean. They proceeded to show me the abruption, while announcing how much larger it was than they had thought, so it was good he came out. But other than that, we had no other issues and Caspian is about to be 3 with still no health problems.
Now, my second pregnancy, as many of you know, took a completely different and drastic turn. Those months of being pregnant were the most terrifying time in my entire life. So let’s start from the beginning. I found out I was pregnant with my second son, Fox, in August of 2019, at 20 years old. And honestly, my fiancé (husband now) and I were actually pretty excited. Him being a first time dad, especially added to the thrill. But toward the end of August, a scary situation happened that I will never forget. One morning, I woke up, and went to the bathroom, only to notice blood. And I mean a SHIT TON of blood. Dark red blood. And I immediately began sobbing, thinking I was having a miscarriage. Now one thing many people do not know, is I had had a miscarriage prior to this very early on that really messed me up emotionally. So right away, Chris and I drove to the ER, frantically but trying to keep positive. We arrived, and at the time I was I think maybe 3 or so weeks pregnant? I can’t totally recall. So they get me into a room and take me to go get an ultrasound. After, I’m escorted back to the room where my then fiancé was and we waited. And waited. And waited. Until finally a doctor came in and informed me that there seemed to be a sack of something in there (I’m so sorry, I forgot what it was called but it was a ball of blood) and couldn’t detect any sign of a baby. So they called it a “threatened miscarriage”, and our hearts just broke. They had given me a number to an OB who wanted to see me in the office in exactly one week and wanted me to get bloodwork done in 3 days because the bloodwork could determine if my pregnancy was progressing. So after three terrible, nerve wrecking, heartbreaking days, I went to get my blood drawn and then 4 more days passed and I went to the OB’s office. I was immediately taken into the ultrasound room after meeting him, and as they scanned around for a little while, there it was. A little baby bean just chilling next to that gross weird sack of blood. It was the biggest weight lifted off my chest to see I was in fact not having a miscarriage. So from then, I continued to have routine checkups.
Now, fast forward to about a week into November. I was 21 weeks pregnant having my mid pregnancy scan, when the room was complete silence. I was alone, as my husband had to work, and I had been used to going to appointments by myself from my first pregnancy. After an hour of the ultrasound, the tech left the room, and came back insisting I go wait in my OB’s office so he can speak with me. And that’s when I knew there was something wrong. I never did that with Caspian and the vibe just felt- off. So I wait. And wait. And wait. For about 45 minutes as my OB had actually been performing a surgery. Once he was done, he came in and sat down. (My OB just an fyi is the most amazing man and I still to this day text him with questions I have and every time I see him, he always asks for pictures of Fox).he looked at me and informed me that my son had multiple anomalies, one including fluid on his brain (hydrocephalus), and what seemed to be some problems with his abdomen. He informed me as much as he could about Hydrocephalus, but this was now a more specialty doctors area, so he referred me to an MFM (maternal fetal medicine doctor). I had to wait until after Thanksgiving so for a few weeks I wondered so many things that just stressed me out majorly. I socially distanced myself (which we all seem to have to do now lol) from pretty much everyone except Chris. I was going through a lot of depression, more than I had before pregnancy, and I just felt lost and scared. So I go to my MFM doctor and they do a like, a 2 or something hour ultrasound, where they find and confirm hydrocephalus, but also duodenal atresia (his intestines weren’t connected) and some tiny holes in his heart (you may read about these things and what they mean on my other blog posts). So from then on I had bi-weekly appointments with my MFM to do ultrasounds and such. Eventually, they find that Fox’s thumbs are adducted (meaning they go in toward his palms, which is something he still struggles with and will probably need splints down the road).
Now adducted thumbs is an indication of X-Linked hydrocephalus (L1cam). This meaning, he got this from ME. Basically, x-linked is only in boys, and mothers/girls can be carriers of it. They asked if Cas had any disabilities and were shocked to find out no. But in short, it’s a 50/50 chance of any future sons I may have to have hydrocephalus as well. All the other issues this poor kids suffered from, well, we have NO IDEA where they came from!
Well, then a month after my wedding in December, Fox was born in January. But NOT because of him. Sadly, because my body was failing. I had to go in for Non-stress tests every week, and the first one I went to they noticed my blood pressure was SKYROCKETING. This was on Friday January 24, and I was only 28 and like 5 or 6 days pregnant. My ankles were swollen to shit, and they grew concerned that I may have developed preeclampsia. So here I was, being admitted where they planned to keep me until 34 weeks where they would take him out then (because oh, forgot to mention, two weeks prior they saw that my umbilical cord wasn’t transferring nutrients to him anymore and his abdomen wasn’t growing but his head still was and I had a LARGE amount of amniotic fluid build up in my body, hence why my 4’10, average of 115 lb ass was now weighing 157). So I’m admitted into the special care unit and then move to labor and delivery, as they gave me high blood pressure meds that calmed my body down.
Well then, Sunday comes around and I wake up around 1 am Monday to my nurse holding the monitor me and looking scared. I asked what’s happening, and my throat is rattling like crazy. Other nurses begin to rush in where they inform me that Fox’s levels are dipping because my body wasn’t doing well. Remind you, I was on percocets and loads of other medicines so I have a very hazy memory of most of this. But then they also discover fluid had developed on my lungs. And my preeclampsia basically could have killed me. So I call my husband, who’s at home with our animals and he rushes to the hospital, where they take me back into OR and put me completely to sleep, taking Fox out at 2 lbs & 3 oz at 29 weeks pregnant via emergency c-section, and then he ended up staying in NICU for 87 days, finally coming home April 23, 2020. They informed me that the only reason he had to come out because of me and my safety as they feared for my life.
After this, I was told that my chances of getting preeclampsia are high if I were to get pregnant again, and that could be life threatening to not only me, but the future baby’s life as well. But then the fear of me getting pregnant with yet another boy, and him having a very high chance of having hydrocephalus or other issues, it all just became clear to me. My body is not meant to have more kids again. On top of my Crohn’s Disease that hit me like a brick fucking wall after having Fox and being practically in remission my whole pregnancy, I knew I just couldn’t put myself through it again. But I also knew, there was no way I could handle life if something were to happen to a future baby of mine. After doctors advising me of my safety and my baby’s safety, and of constant discussions with my family, I knew the best choice would be to just be done with it. Because I know one day, when I want a child again, I will 100% adopt, as there are so many babies in this world who need homes and I have one to give.
Now, you’ve made it this far, don’t back out just yet! I’ve got some information for you.
Salpingectomy- what?!
So what the hell is that big word I just said? It’s a tubal removal, baby! If you only have a partial tubal removal, you have a slight chance of still getting pregnant, as 7.5 women out of 1,000 have still gotten pregnant. But if you have both tubes removed, you can only get pregnant through IVF. Even though there is a rare case of a woman getting pregnant without any tubes, which is crazy. But anyways, Salpingectomy is the surgical removal of one (unilateral) or both (bilateral) fallopian tubes. Fallopian tubes allow eggs to travel from the ovaries to the uterus. A partial salpingectomy is when you have only part of a fallopian tube removed. http://healthline.com
I found out about this procedure, which is an alternative to getting your tubes tied, by my OB who prefers this method compared to getting your tubes tied. So instead of going in and burning the tubes (or whatever they do these days) he goes in, for me laparoscopically, and completely cuts your tubes out, removing both of them entirely. There were three small incisions made in my abdomen. Two on the lower right and left side, and one on the upper left side. The purpose of this compared to just getting them tied, is to reduce your chances of ovarian cancer.
The procedure in total took about an hour to an hour and a half, while I was out completely under, and it took me another hour to just wake up, and boy did I wake up. I absolutely hate surgery and anesthesia. I’ve had a total of seven in my lifetime, starting with getting tubes in my ears at 2 years old, and my past five ones being in the span of 2 years. So waking up, is never a fun experience.
In recovery, I was given three doses of fentanyl, and some norco, which norco does NOT work on me, so they prescribed me percocet instead. I waited in recovery with my husband for about an hour or so until I finally felt ready to go home. So it’s just an outpatient procedure, which is awesome because I’ll pass on the overnight stay in the hospital. The recovery time is up to six weeks and I was told that it will be difficult to walk for the next three days. Being as I just had this surgery TODAY, I can tell ya, this shit is PAINFUL. I also have a really low pain tolerance, and the air from them inflating my stomach, that went up into my shoulders, hurts like HELL and the only way to get it out is to walk around which will cause you to burp. But um, hello, how the hell do I walk around when I’m in this much pain? Because seriously, It’s almost 3 am and I’m still up, in pain, trying to keep my mind off of it by writing this post.
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So here’s some info on getting your tubes tied. When getting tubes tied (tubal ligation), there are a few ways this can be done. And only 1 in 200 women get pregnant after this procedure. Tubal ligation — also known as having your tubes tied or tubal sterilization — is a type of permanent birth control. During tubal ligation, the fallopian tubes are cut, tied or blocked to permanently prevent pregnancyTubal ligation prevents an egg from traveling from the ovaries through the fallopian tubes and blocks sperm from traveling up the fallopian tubes to the egg. The procedure doesn’t affect your menstrual cycle. https://www.mayoclinic.org/tests-procedures/tubal-ligation/about/pac-20388360
The hardest part of all this, is truly knowing I will not have any more kids. And it’s harder knowing the reason I can’t is because of my body for the most part. But everything happens for a reason, and as I said before, there are so many children and babies in foster care and available for adoption, that they deserve a chance. They deserve a life or some sort of normalcy. So here’s to a future of adopting!
In this article, I’ll be discussing self love, the highs and lows of life, and toxic situations, along with how to conquer insecurities within yourself. I will be discussing parts of my life that have impacted me for a long time, and which helped me reach an outcome I never could ask more for. This article isn’t just meant for people who suffer from Crohn’s, but for anyone who suffers from these inner demons we always seem to find. Whether you’ve experienced abuse, losing a close friend, or an absent family member, these are all things we can overcome. It just takes time.
Warning: This article contains themes of rape, self harm, depression and trauma.
I’d like to start off with telling you all a little bit about my past with depression and personal insecurities. When I was twelve, I suffered from the loss of my grandmother who I was deeply close with. She passed from breast cancer which also spread into her bones. After, that, I found myself realizing how hard life could be. I didn’t have my father in my life growing up for about 13 years, due to substance abuse, and she was the closest thing I had to him (she was his mom). After her funeral I began questioning why my father wasn’t around and why life was so hard and wondering if there was a God, and if so, why does he take the most innocent and beautiful souls from us?
When junior high started, I found myself being bullied. Rumors were constantly spread about me at my tiny private school and they would really make me look down on myself. I struggled with weight, due to girls calling me fat and a rumor that I was pregnant (in seventh grade, I hadn’t even had sex yet *eye roll*). When eighth grade began, the bullying intensified. Girls began telling me to kill myself and calling me way more harsh names. I was self harming at the time, and they’d make fun of that as well, while encouraging it, so I did what any rash teen would do, and ran away with my then boyfriend. We got caught, I went to a juvenile detention center and then spent a month on house arrest. I started at a new school, and things began to seem somewhat better. Until the boy I was dating began turning abusive. The yelling and fighting and controlling turned into pushing and shoving and threatening to kill himself, or hurting me. I was fourteen when I fell in love with him and stayed with him until I was sixteen. On top of this, I fell victim to sexual assault and convinced myself that “I’m his girlfriend, this is what I’m supposed to do“. Even if I told him no. I kept this all to myself, for fear of him and fear that he was right and no one would ever “love me” the way he did. Then I ended up leaving him and he showed up at my school, dented my car door, and later that night broke into my home when I was home alone and I was forced to call the cops on him. Which resolved nothing except I never heard from him again.
For a very long time, I was in denial about what happened. I didn’t really understand until people helped me realize what I had gone through. I couldn’t accept it. I hated him for a very long time and then recently I realized, I can’t continue to hate someone, especially when they don’t even realize what they did was wrong. I tend to make up excuses for peoples actions and I believe we just were too young to understand our emotions. We fell in love hard and fast and we didn’t know how to process that so we became controlling and possessive. That led to abuse that I didn’t really realize was abuse until much later. But like I said, we were young. Now, I’m not excusing his actions, but, I have learned to forgive him whether he knows that or not. I can’t continue to hold on to this anger, as it’s only taking a toll on me. What’s the use in being angry with someone, especially when I haven’t spoken to them in nearly 4 years. It took me a very long time to be able to call what he did to me, rape. Because it’s such an ugly word. And most people when they think of rape, they see it as violent or from somebody they didn’t know. You don’t usually think of a boyfriend raping their girlfriend. But no is no. And of course, there were times I said yes, but there were also times that I did say no. And that’s enough for it to be assault. It’s hard to think that someone who claims to love you, could do that. It makes you build up this wall around you that you may never want to tear down. And there are still days, 4 years later, where I can’t handle anyone touching me. Where things remind me of him or I feel how I felt when I was with him. I also had hated sex for a long time, and couldn’t find a way to enjoy intimacy, until I was able to meet the right person.
In the images below, there are texts from that person from when we were not together, but I was still to scared to cut him off. This is what I endured, yet still couldn’t call it abuse. If a man says these things to you, it is ABUSE. Warning for below photos, as they are vulgar and depict abuse.
I was 14-16 years old when I was with him. Remind you, these texts were from when I was either sleeping, with family, or at work. I was accused of cheating, when I never did. (He was also the only man I had ever slept with at the time). I was threatened with a gun he owned, and cheated on by him. He would make me send photos to him of where I was just to prove it to him. I wasn’t allowed friends of either sex. He once broke up with me for seeing a movie with my step dad. I couldn’t wear tank tops or show my shoulders or belly. On Halloween one year, he drugged me, raped me, and then cried because I was shaking so bad and my eyes were red and I thought I was having a seizure. I threw up eight times that night. It took a lot out of me to end this relationship, but it helped me grow as a person and learn, and truly, I hope the best for him and that he gets better.
One thing I always say to people, is moments are temporary. Even the ones that feel like they will never end. And that’s something that takes a while to fully grasp the concept of. Sometimes it feels like whenever my life starts to fall into place, something happens, making it fall back apart again. But that’s when I have to remember that everything happens for a reason and eventually, this all will have been for something. I believe everything that has happened to me, has made me the person I am. I’ve grown from these challenges and I’m moving on. It takes time but healing is worth it. I have learned a lot from having an absent father. I used to want him in my life so desperately. My mom told me that when I was 6 years old, I used to ask her why my dad didn’t love me. Finally she had told me when I reached an appropriate age, that he was a drug addict and it was never my fault. When he got married to my now ex-step mom, I saw him more. Mostly due to her, because she wanted me there, especially because she had a daughter my age who is still a close friend. But then after about four years, they got divorced and he seemed to fall back into habits. He is so far from being fixed, it seems. And it took me a long time to realize I shouldn’t have to be the one who fixes him. He is the adult, whereas I am his child, so he should be the one reaching out to me. But, if it weren’t for me contacting him first, I’d never hear from him. And so I took that up and decided it was for the best, because having him in my life seemed to just be more issues than needed. But man, I used to blame myself so much for him disappearing, but I finally reached an age where I figured out it was not my fault. And what is best for me, is to choose my family. Because it is a privilege to be a father, but not a right. Which I had to realize with my sons father as well. But I truly stick to the fact that you choose your own family. Whether it’s cutting out certain family members because their lives seem to collide with yours, or if it’s adding friends in as family. We should never have to be around toxic people, if we don’t want to.
Self love and acceptance is a challenge I believe many people have yet to overcome. We all struggle with something. Whether that be our weight, the way our face is shaped, our nose, a bag attached the their abdomen, etc. There’s something we all are insecure with. And that’s okay. You can still love yourself and not like certain things. But the key to healthy relationships with others or with life, is to love yourself first. Yes, it’s a tad cliché, but am I wrong? I mean how can we love somebody when we can’t love ourselves properly? And then we will find ourselves settling for less than we deserve and it just becomes a chain reaction. I found myself in yet another scenario of abuse, which tended to be more mental abuse if anything, but after my son was born, I couldn’t keep either of us around out so I left. Now, of course I wasn’t perfect. I had my times too, where I was at fault and should have approached things differently. But you can only take so much pain until you yourself becomes toxic too. And that’s the hard part is excepting when you are the toxic person in someone’s life as well. And we all have been. Whether it be a friend, family or spouse. Each of us has been in a place where we haven’t been good for somebody, and the only thing you can do is remove yourself from that situation. I spent a year where I mostly had little flings here and there, but never fully let myself get to that vulnerable stage with someone. I had spent more time focusing on myself, rather than people. And it got me to a place of happiness. I figured out how to love myself by hiking and writing and even just spending time with no one, but me. Because in the end that’s all you have is you. We are born into this world alone, and we die alone. A lot of people hold fear of being by themselves, which I was one of them. I always had to be texting somebody or facetiming someone, but finally at 20, I’m at an age where I don’t feel I need that anymore. I go through times where I completely disassociate with all social media and just do me for a bit. And that is totally healthy. We need that solid concrete ground for us to feel safe within ourselves. We can’t always depend on other people to be there when we fall down.
Everyone learns how to love themselves in a different way. Some people, sadly never do. But if I can preach one thing on this site, it’s to try. There are of course days where I feel insecure or down about myself. Or I can’t stand myself even, but after a certain point you have to move past all that. When I had the ileostomy bag for four months, I was on steroids which made my face look HUGE. I hated leaving my apartment and couldn’t stand the site of myself. It took a long time after my reversal surgery and after I took myself of those steroids, for my face to go back to normal, and I really never thought it would. It was defeating. It took me so much time to get to a place of feeling beautiful, and felt like it was destroyed in just a simple two weeks. My heart was broken because of the insecurity. But I got better and everything fell back into place, as it usually does.
Now, being pregnant with my second son, I’ve experienced a very deep low that I hadn’t been in in a while. The only people who seemed to understand was my fiance and mom. First trimester, my hormones were going insane. I never wanted to leave the house. I felt tired all the time. I felt really lonely even though I wasn’t and I just felt very very depressed. It was challenging and I felt like I had to justify to people constantly on why I was moody or lazy. Hanging out with people made me just shut down entirely. I couldn’t be in a social setting without getting really consumed by depression and just mood swings. I tried having a Halloween Party and it just blew up in my face. I just had no energy. As soon as I hit around 18 weeks, I felt back to normal. I was able to finally start socializing again and felt like I could be myself. But at this time a lot of people seemed to not like me, or just not want to be around me. And you know, I made my bed so I needed to lie in it and accept that I put this on myself. So of course I owned up to it and apologized, explaining where I was coming from, and some of my friends were so understanding, and some were not. But at that point, after you put that first initial step of effort in, and they don’t reciprocate, it’s not on you anymore. You tried, that’s what matters. And now, at 23 weeks pregnant, my baby seems to have a LOT of health issues and basically I’ve said if people can’t accept that sometimes I’m not in the best mood, I really don’t care. And you shouldn’t have to always be so concerned on how people view you. Or how people are offended by you being in a bad mood. We aren’t all perfect, and people need to understand that. So don’t ever blame yourself if a person has took it upon themselves to not accept you. That’s their loss.
It’s not often you find good friends who stick around. Especially when you go through some really dark places. Not only eight months ago, was I in such a dark bad place that, yes, I became a person who was practically unrecognizable. I was depressed, in a way that I was trying to do everything in my power to hide my true self because it was just a bad time for me. I don’t remember much, as I was drinking heavily and trying to suppress some dark emotions that I have since then, overcome. But it actually hurt a lot when the friend who I thought would help me through it or even just be there for me, as she knew that it would pass, left. I don’t blame her though, because she probably assumed I was just gone for the worst and that that was me. But I was actually concealing a lot of emotion. I was possibly in the darkest place of my life and I understand that sometimes people need to remove themselves to better their lives but things were said that will constantly be ingrained in my brain. Because it’s not like I was permanently changed. I don’t even know that person that I had become and thinking back on it, I still don’t. But what confuses me is that every 20 year old or so, has partying days. I don’t know any of my friends who don’t party. Yes, it was excessive, but it was necessary for me to grow as a person. It’s a really hard thing admitting when you are wrong. And I can admit, yes I was not a perfect person or friend. I had times where I had acted out of selfishness. But you must remember, it takes two people to cause a fight. And yelling isn’t always the best option. If we had sat down and talked about it all in depth, maybe I would have understand right then and there. But things were said, on both parts, and it just resorted to something that shouldn’t have happened. I’ve grown from it. And even though to this day it still is painful for me, as I loved this friend a lot, I know that it needed to happen at that point in time. We both were toxic for each other. Not just me, and not just her. Both of us. And sometimes admitting that, can be challenging. But you get nowhere from saying “Oh, it’s their fault. I didn’t do anything wrong, blah blah blah.” Because everyone perceives things differently, and in this case, we both were wrong for how it was approached and dealt with. And that’s a strong powerful thing to do. But god, I don’t know of any friends who were roommates, that hadn’t had a huge falling out like this. My mother even told me that when I was one years old, she and her best friend lived in an apartment together and they had a huge fight, just like this one, and didn’t speak for a whole year. And now? Still the best of friends. It happens, it’s not unusual. I just wished that I could have stated my case to her. But I don’t act reasonable when I’m angry, and it basically just turned into a screaming match, on top of me balling my eyes out, because I knew I was losing her for good. And it’s hard, God, it’s fucking hard. But the best thing you can do for yourself, is point out the problem on BOTH ends, solve it on your own, forgive them even if they have no idea you’ve forgiven them, and move on. And hey, maybe one day, you two will talk again, in my case, we have not. But that’s okay too. It’s okay to miss somebody, even if they hate your guts. Because the best thing you can do in a world full of negativity, is be a little positive.
Now, you may ask, “Mara, what was the point to this extremely detailed article about your life?” And I may answer with something like, “To show you how to love yourself!” But that’s not the case. I still have days where I don’t fully love myself, or feel confident. And that’s okay! We are all human, it’s just in our nature to have insecurities. But, you must be the person who picks yourself back up after a downfall. You can’t depend on others to. You must be the person to realize your faults after arguments, or disagreements. You must own it. But you should never feel obligated to let people take advantage of your kindness. You should also always try to picture yourself in others shoes, and reason with them. Life is suffering, and the only way to make the best out of things without putting yourself down in the progress, is acknowledging the fact that life can be a huge bitch. Just learn to get over it, and confront your problems head on. So I guess the main point to this article is to show you, we all go through shit and you never know what people are going through behind closed doors. You just gotta learn to deal with it to ultimately find peace and happiness. And remember, with time comes healing.
I’ve probably talked about my moon face to every one of my friends and none of them really knew what I was talking about until I explained it.
Prednisone is a steroid that of which will help with the pain and inflammation temporarily while a different treatment plan is underway, usually.
Well, I’ve been on Prednisone since late November, and let me tell you, it’s nice to have some help with the inflammation in my gut, but the constant eating, and changes in my body are driving me nuts.
For starters, I’ve been getting these bumps on my forehead and my shoulders. They aren’t even pimples, just little annoying bumps. Also, I’m almost always hungry, and everything tastes good. I can’t think of a single food I wont eat. And lastly, moon face. While, I haven’t experienced much weight gain except maybe a few pounds, my face has turned into a literal circle. I see myself and think ‘Human or hamster?’ because I look like a little rodent that kids keep as pets whenever I smile. It’s kind of insane and I absolutely hate it. I have an ileostomy bag at the moment, and I’m more insecure and concerned for the roundness of my face and my puffed out cheeks, rather than the bag full of poop on my stomach.
Now, you may think I’m overreacting, but people have actually noticed this change. So figured I’d provide some photos from when I was first diagnosed with Crohn’s in August of 2018 to just a few days ago in January of 2019, for reference.
Now, it may not look like a lot, because it really is just my face that’s gaining the weight, but I mean, COME ON, I totally look like a little hamster or something. And it’s fine, because I know once I’m off Prednisone in a few weeks, it’ll go back to normal, but wowza, gotta love modern day medicine and the lovely side effects!
So when you hear someone refer to moon face, this is what they mean. Medicine can have lots of negative side effects, and it sucks when the thing that’s helping your pain is also the thing making you look a way you don’t necessarily like. It’s hard to be positive or feel good about yourself when you can literally see this change happening right in front of you. There are days I just feel so insecure, whether it’s because of moon face, or the little bumps on my forehead, or the bag, I just miss the confidence I used to have and I’m trying so hard to get it back, but it’s hard when medicine is contradicting you. I just remind myself that moments are temporary. I can and I will get my groove back, I just need to keep patience in mind. Nothing happens overnight and right now my health is the main concern.
But damn, I am SO ready to start feeling AND looking good at the same time. So let’s hope when I get my reversal surgery in March, I will be.
Also, remember, if you have a bag, or moon face, or just anything you feel insecure about, try not to stress too much over the little things. We all are trying our hardest and I know sometimes things like this can be very discouraging and frustrating, but honestly, we all are beautiful no matter what. We all have things about ourselves that we consider flaws, but try to focus on it as a unique part of you. It’s what makes you, you. And we need to learn to just embrace ourselves and love every part of ourselves, because that’s the key to being not only happy, but healthy.
So ladies and gents, embrace that moon face, because it’s the only face you got and there’s no point in dwelling on it!