My story.

So I just realized that I haven't actually shared my UC story from the beginning. I think it's time to do that, considering I'm getting this surgery done, and therefore my disease is a bit more public with people I know, and they're (understandably) curious.

As I go to write this...it's strange to me how fuzzy my memories of it all are...It's been so long, and so much has happened, that I'm having a tough time remembering just how it all got started...

It was '06..I remember that much. I was a senior in high school with big plans and lots of activities, as most of the seniors did. I was a runner (both track and cross country) and I was also in the school play. When my symptoms first started, I ignored them. They were typical UC symptoms (obviously) bleeding, urgency, intense pain, etc. Pretty serious symptoms, right? Well, my pride won out over the terrifying symptoms. I was absolutely mortified just at the thought of having to tell someone what was going on with me, so I didn't. I dealt with the pain for 6 months without telling a single soul what was going on with me. It was during cross country and simultaneously play (thespians) season. I remember being outside during XC practice and having to sprint to the bathroom in crazy pain. I could barely make it through practices, and spent a lot of my time hiding out in the bathroom hoping no one noticed I had disappeared during what was supposed to be an hour long run. I had no idea what I was going to do when the season really started and I actually had to race. You can't just run off the course to use the bathroom and start up again! All the while, the play was happening. I was in the running for the lead role, which I wanted more than anything else in the world at that time. Quitting XC was already on my mind because of the complications with my health, but when I spoke to the play director and she told me that I got the lead, quitting XC became that much easier. I tried balancing the two for a while, but being the lead in the play meant that I had to be at every play practice. So I quit cross country and focused all my energy on the play. Play practices were intense to say the least. Especially when it gets close to time for the production, you're there from right after school ends at 3 until 10 pm. Not to mention this happens right around midterms/finals or something..I just always remember having to cram for exams on my breaks offstage. I loved the play, but it was also an event where if I had to, I couldn't just run offstage to take care of my current health problems. I spent a lot of time with my fellow castmates. We ate dinner together almost every night and were around each other constantly. It was hard for them not to notice that something was weird with me. However, no one mentioned anything to me, at least not then, and not to my face.

The play went fantastically. Despite extreme nerves, and having to be on the stage damn near constantly, I made it through all the productions without having to run offstage to the bathroom, or miss a cue due to my illness. The last performance was on Saturday. I didn't make it to school that next Monday.

You wanna hear the funny part? I still didn't want to tell anyone about my disease. I would have kept it a secret. You know why I finally decided to tell someone that Monday? I just didn't want to go to school...plain and simple. I was tired, and I didn't want to do it. Forget the fact that I was in intense pain, with something clearly wrong with me...I was feeling lazy, and I wanted an excuse not to go to school. Bleeding colon? As long as it gets the job done! I texted my mom that I wasn't going to school because I was bleeding when I went to the bathroom. That was exactly how I worded it. She just assumed I meant when I peed. Nope. Of course not, that's not NEAR mortifying enough for me...When she found out what was really going on, she freaked. Understandably.

I had been dealing with it so long without anyone else knowing (about 6 months, like I said) that it had become no big deal to me. It took her freaking out for me to realize how serious whatever was going on with me had to be.

My health took a real quick downward spiral around this time. I'm really not sure how I dealt with it so long without medicine, without doctors knowing...without anyone knowing...I'm lucky I didn't wind up in the ER, or worse. Not telling anyone about what was going on with me was the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life. So many things could have happened...but I let my pride get to me, and keep me from doing what I knew I should have done. Never again. And please take my advice here..no matter how embarrassing a medical condition is...go to a fucking doctor. They don't give two shits, (no pun intended), I promise you. It's they're job to deal with these things.

At any rate, they couldn't figure out what was wrong with me at first. They thought maybe hemorrhoids, a fissure, I don't even remember all the possibilities they ran through. All the while, I was getting sicker and sicker.

I couldn't eat. I wouldn't eat. I laid curled up in a ball in a chair in the living room. I had no energy because I had no nutrients. I was out of school indefinitely. I lost 20 pounds in 2 weeks. I weighed 80 pounds. I was a (barely) walking bag of bones. I only got up out of my chair to go to the bathroom. I didn't even have enough energy to stay awake through a half hour long TV show, yet when nighttime came, I couldn't sleep for the pain. My skin was almost green.
My mom thought I was going to die.

I remember being alone a lot. I don't think my mom could bear the sight of me. I remember a few times of my family coming over to check on me, but I couldn't stay awake long enough to really interact with them. They were all so worried...

The doctor decided we had to do a colonoscopy to find out what was going on. At this point they still had no idea what was wrong with me. I don't know how many of you have ever known someone that had a colonoscopy done, but the prep for it is absolutely terrible. They have to clean your bowels out, obviously so they can see what's going on, and let me tell you..it's absolutely awful. There are many different ways that you can go about the prep, but the one they were going to have me to do was a medicine that was mixed in with a sports drink. You had to drink somewhere near 64 ounces of gatorade with this medicine in it that made you shit water. Literally. Somewhere about halfway through you're literally shitting clear as water, and it's absolutely awful for so many reasons.

At any rate, I couldn't do it. As I said, I hadn't been eating, and I'd barely been drinking anything. My stomach couldn't handle all those fluids. I couldn't force myself to drink it. I remember crying..my mom was crying...If I couldn't get the medicine down, I couldn't have my colonoscopy. If I couldn't have my colonoscopy, we couldn't figure out what was wrong with me...

I couldn't force it down. My mom was so upset, almost angry with me. I just curled up in a ball and stayed that way all night. We went to the hospital the next day and were told as we suspected that they could not perform the procedure since I couldn't finish my prep. We were devastated. That meant I had to wait another week and then try a different approach to the situation. Another painful and scary week...

The next approach was pills. 32 pills, to be exact. You take two every 15 minutes, and are supposed to drink 8 oz of water with them, because they dehydrate you so much. It was hard enough for me just to get the pills down, so we settled for that. My oldest sister was there, I remember...I was crouched on the floor crying and saying that I couldn't do it...They were crying too because they knew how hard it was for me, but we all knew that I had to get those damn pills down...

My mom promised me a new winter coat if I finished my prep...
Hardest thing I've ever had to do for a damn coat in my life!!

I got the pills down though..spent the entire night completely miserable and running to the bathroom more often and more urgently than usual, which is saying something.

I remember getting to the hospital and being put on the bed. It was the first time in a while that I didn't have to go the the bathroom..I was fucking empty. Stupid nurse kept missing my vein for my IV...I bled everywhere...They wheeled me back and the nurse said

"At least you have long eyelashes..."

Looking up at the lights in the room, just like in the movies..Doctors in masks over me...told me to count backwards from 10...I was out before I even got to 8. I woke up and remembered really needing to go to the bathroom, immediately. The nurse told me I couldn't go until I had been awake for a while but that she would get me a bedpan. I absolutely refused. I wouldn't sink that damn low, come on now...I waited for another nurse to walk by less than a minute later and acted as normal as I could...She let me get up and go to the restroom.

They showed me, my mom, and my sister Sandy the pictures of the inside of my colon. I'm pretty sure they took a biopsy too. I was in a wheelchair..I didn't want to look at the pictures. I wouldn't do it. Everything is so fuzzy...They diagnosed me with ulcerative colitis.

Now what??

(I appreciate all of you who read through all this...it's really intense for me to basically relive it all...so I'm going to take a little break...let this bit sink in, and I'll update this again soon with the rest of the story...)