Okay, so, here’s the tale from my updates post that I started to write, before realising it was waaaaay too long and it would need its own post. I always think “oh, nothing much happened,” and then I start writing and actually A LOT HAPPENED. But, spoiler: we’re still no further forward than we were six months ago. How can that be, I hear you ask? Well, let me start from the beginning..,
It’s World IBD Day! It’s Mental Health Awareness Week! I hope both of them are good to you. It’s quite an intersection of ‘awareness days’, isn’t it, considering the mental toll IBD exacts? So there’s no better time to write about when the two collide spectacularly! Here’s my tale…
This is something (almost autobiographical in nature) I wrote in the early morning, after an accident that roused me from sleep. It’s mostly about fear: an attempt to describe it for those lucky enough to not feel it follow them around like I do, and how it feels in those moments when I can’t suppress it.
The girl steps into the shower, the door sliding shut with a soft thud behind her. She blows out a breath, shaky and uncertain, and twists the first knob to unleash the torrent of water from above. The water is supposed to strip everything away: not just dirt and dust but guilt, shame, fear – all sloughing off of her body and disappearing down the drain with the water. This is where she is safe.
Remember how I said I’d be posting for each day in Crohn’s and Colitis Awareness Week? And then remember how, immediately afterwards, I didn’t do that? Yeah, me too. I’m the worst, I admit it. Honestly, it’s taking up everything I have just to keep up with uni at the moment with exhaustion kicking in – as you’ll see by the end of this post. I’ve been toying with the idea of doing a day in the life post for quite some time, but always forgot until halfway through the day – until now (or, er, Thursday, which is when this post was originally drafted). So here’s what a fairly typical day looks like for me…
It’s the first day of Crohn’s and Colitis Awareness Week – happy #PurpleFriday to you all, and I hope you’re doing well – or if you’re not, that you’re doing as well as you can be right now. I’m hoping to publish one post per day for the entirety of this week. We’ll see how it goes – but to kick-start the process, I thought I’d make it a long one, and share something I’ve never written about in full before: my diagnosis story.
Hi, my name’s Emma, and I’m kind of a hypocrite. No, wait. Scratch that. Definitely a hypocrite.
I’ve not been having a very good week so far. Monday night saw me eating some Co-Op chunky chips for dinner, and Tuesday morning caught me totally off guard by presenting me with… a partial bowel obstruction. From chips. So I spent the day utterly useless, on my bed, writhing in pain, and tearful because – of course! – the one item I’d forgotten to bring back to university was a hot water bottle, that is, the only item that could have helped me.