Hello again. If you’re reading this you are perhaps a friend,
my Mum, or just an all-round lovely person. Or possibly you have a fetish for
bowel issues. In any case those are all utterly acceptable reasons and I’m very
pleased to meet you. If you have read this blog before you will know that I
have Crohn’s Disease and I try to regularly document my life with it here. It’s
a very rocky road I tread with this disease and not the good kind with
marshmallows and chocolate and bits of chewy stuff that I’m still not sure what
they actually are. (What are you
little guys and why do you taste so good?!)
Anyway, as it’s World IBD (Inflammatory Bowel Disease) Day
this Monday, I just wanted to take a moment to reflect on how equally cursed
and blessed I’ve been in the past few years since I was finally diagnosed. The
kindness of others has made me see humanity is essentially good. It’s spurned
me on when situations have been hairy and as rough as my legs during a Scottish
Winter. I’ve had to face challenges in the last few years I’d never thought I would
ever have to. Challenges I certainly never would’ve thought that I could ever feasibly
overcome. I’ve shown myself I can be brave and stronger than I ever would’ve
thought possible.
Crohn’s Disease is an incredibly debilitating condition
which has no cure. It causes agonising symptoms at its worst and is an endless inconvenience
at best. It can be ‘controlled’ but nothing more. It affects it’s sufferers in
minor and major ways, and can floor patients at the drop of a diseased hat. It’s
taught me the resilience of my fellow ‘crohnie’s’ is both surprising and wonderfully
unrelenting. It’s given me faith in myself and my future – it’s not bleak and
it’s not going to be all about Crohn’s.
It’s going to be as bright as I want it to be, as bright as I allow it to be. NOT as bright as my
disease allows.
I’m finally starting to feel proud of myself. I previously
thought that every nasty procedure, every stay in hospital, every day when I’m
in work when I want to be hibernating in bed, was just life. My life. I don’t
deserve praise for what I should be
doing. I don’t want it, don’t get me wrong, but I want to start praising myself for these little victories. As
should everyone with a chronic illness. Things such as getting out of bed, getting
dressed and carrying out a day’s work aren’t akin to running a marathon for
most people; but they are for us. Therefore it’s really ok to give yourself a
pat on the back when you cross your own finish line.
No comments:
Post a Comment