Tag: inflammatory bowel disease

Introducing…Trust Your Gut


My name is Billie Anderson, I’m 21 and I’m a history student down on the sunny English coast! If we are talking hobbies in conjunction with student life, it mainly surrounds how much alcohol you can consume without hospitalising yourself. And also knowing where the cheapest pizza is to soak up all that booze!
The other things I enjoy in life (along with wine and pizza) aren’t exactly mainstream: I owned two very naughty ponies who loved to see how quickly they could throw me into the mud! As a kid I’d spend my pocket money on a new bridle or rugs for the horses rather than makeup and clothes like my friends!
I’m also an avid petrol head – an interest that was spurred by my grandad when he took me for a drive in his classic Porsche 924 when I was 7. I almost drowned when the passenger-side foot well flooded with water! There is so much character to a classic car – the smell of pure petrol mixed with 50-year-old cigarette smoke that is ingrained into the upholstery of a 1971 mk1 Ford Capri is so much more exciting than a Prius! Ive always preferred scrolling through classic car magazines looking at engines and the restoration of some beaten up old Beetle, than the ‘top ten reasons why your crush is ignoring you’ section of Hello!
Im also a super nerd! With the end of university growing ever closer, it’s a time that every student dreads… Dissertations! Along with my not-so-conventional hobbies, the area of study I specialise in is the history of piracy. So it’s 10,000 words about the life of Jack Sparrow and ‘research’ includes watching my way through every single Pirates of The Caribbean film! Not a bad way to spend the year if you ask me!
Now I’ve tried to make myself sound slightly interesting, onto the blog I run! Around 9 months ago I created Trust Your Gut. I started this project after being diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis – one of the ugly sisters of IBD (Inflammatory Bowel Disease) – the other being Crohn’s disease. I decided to write about my illness due to how isolating it can be; I felt so alone in my fight against Colitis, not knowing anyone who had experienced it, and I didn’t want anyone to go through the same thing I did.
I found myself spending more time in hospital, talking to doctors, rather than going to uni and partying with my mates, so Trust Your Gut became a place where I felt other people could get a more human response to the illness rather than just the clinical talk you get from doctors and nurses.
As my illness progressed however, it became clear that my UC was very serious and the drug therapy I was placed on wasn’t making me any better. So in January 2018, one year after my diagnosis, I underwent major abdominal surgery to remove my very angry, ulcerated colon and given an ileostomy (so I haven’t got a large intestine and my small intestine pokes about an inch out of my stomach into a bag). Due to my surgery, Trust Your Gut went from being all about my life with a chronic illness and spreading awareness for IBD, to stoma awareness.
It is now all about how my little stoma bag saved my life!
From my point of view there isn’t enough awareness about IBD or stomas – particularly for younger people – and I hope that Trust Your Gut can be a platform to spread the word! This is a blog that has been a little refuge for me and hopefully other people (those who are diagnosed, have a connection to the disease through someone else or even those who just want to find out more) in raising awareness for an illness that isn’t talked about enough!
Along the way I’ve been inspired by so many other bloggers, vloggers and Instagrammers who all do so much to raise awareness for IBD and stoma life. The little Instagram family that I’ve built up over the last few months has been a lifeline of support and love in the fight against such a difficult disease!
Trust Your Gut has been something that I’ve found I truly love – a little project that hopefully helps raise awareness for those who don’t know about IBD and also a place where those who do know about it can find some comfort in knowing they aren’t going it alone! I love divulging all my secrets and probably boring the pants off everyone on there! In amongst the non-conventional hobbies I have, I now have a very non-conventional blog to go with a non-conventional stomach, all in the hope of spreading a little love!
You can find out all my secrets about bag-life here (https://trustyourgut.blog) and on Instagram too (@billieandersonx)!
Here’s to making the very non-conventional stomach I have conventional!

Billie’s Instagram:

Billie’s Blog:

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*Written by Billie Anderson, Trust Your Gut | Edited by Dawsonxo | Photo credit by Billie Anderson, Trust your Gut | Subject to Copyright*

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What I Actually Do – Day in the life of a Crohnie

Last week when I was having my 10am trip to the sick bowl, I was watching an interview, or rather a ‘debate’ on This Morning involving two women. One woman was a full time stay at home mom and the other a 9 – 5 working mother, and as much as I applaud the efforts of the working mom she caused a lot of uproar with branding the other as ‘lazy’ and questioning what exactly stay at home mom’s do.
This is a close debate to me because very often some ignorant person slides into my dm’s to ask me exactly ‘what I do?’ and yes I am a self proclaimed lazy arse, but I also work hard and do not do “nothing.” After talking to a lot of other Crohn’s sufferers I find myself telling them to not feel guilty about doing nothing or achieving nothing more than a 6 hour nap on a day they aren’t feeling great and yet I feel myself having to justify what exactly I do still.


So first off I’m going to state that I don’t feel I have to justify myself but there are a lot of you who are non-maliciously, genuinely interested in what a week is like for myself as a Crohn’s sufferer, work from home, M.E diagnosed, pregnant, student.
Already, my illnesses are a type of job, they are something I live with everyday and they can determine the path I go down in my life. A year and a half ago I gave up work to focus on my health and have not returned to a career since, and I do not regret that, nor do I feel like I am lazy or a ‘doll scrounger’ because of my choice to focus on being mentally and physically well over the 9-5 grind. I work hard to do normal tasks some days, sometimes getting dressed is an exhausting task or even a walk with Luna (despite the fact she’s pop-eye on a leash) can tire me out for the entire day and with the build up of my exhaustion comes a flare up, with a flare up comes a debilitating change in life, days in hospital and watching loved ones suffer the thought of what will happen to me this time. So when I say I do not work full time or have a ‘proper career’ I am not ashamed or feel guilty for being a stay at home person and any other chronic illness sufferer should not feel guilty that they too cannot work or cannot pay into the state like many other people in society can and do.
With that said this is what an AVERAGE day (there are obviously days I lie around in a vegetative state with one arm round my sick bowl and the other in a pic n mix tub watching Netflix) looks like for me.0001
I wake up when my natural body clock wakes me up, because if I don’t, boy do I know about it. On the days I have to set an alarm I fight a battle of morning sickness and body fatigue as my digestive system hasn’t clocked in yet, my body has awoken before my functions have and so they work at dysfunctional time differences. So majority of the time I let myself wake up naturally to avoid any premature trips to the toilet and alleviate the chances of a midday nap. I go down to luna, who has already attempted her prison breaks and escapology routines in which she somehow manages to escape her cage even with cable ties and a padlock on (I don’t even know how she does it but I can earn big bucks from her skills, Houdini is shaking in his grave). Feed her some goop whilst trying not to gag and then have a cup of tea, or on a bad sickness day, a cup of boiled water (wild, I know) and then run to the toilet and sick it all back up again…
“Welcome to the second trimester” they said… “Morning sickness will be going now” they said…
Well my stomach and my toilet disagree. So once ive gotten my vomiting out the way I go get dressed, which I think is the actual hardest part of the day. It’s the part where you mentally make the decision that your day is beginning and you mean business, despite feeling like its time to go back to bed already.
0003If it’s a work from home kinda day, then ill be lucky to be arsed to do my makeup cause that is commitment usually only saved for leaving the house. Joggers on, messy bun (that looks more like a sparse turd on my head because my hair is too thin to do a proper messy bun) and eyebrow-less. Our post lady (despite being half blind and unable to tell what number our house actually is) delivers my ‘blogger mail’ (again this is NOT something that happens EVERYDAY) with the same astonished expression that Michael Jackson really hasn’t died and is living at number 11 in her home town when I greet her. I spend a couple hours doing the house work and talking to the dog like a mad woman who has had no human contact in years whilst debuting my new album at top volume and a well-choreographed cordless vacuum dance to accompany it. Then by lunch time I have finished boring mundane chores and sit down to go through my emails. I argue with a few collaborators about how I deserve to be paid for advertising their brand or products and write up briefs or ‘pitches’ to them with my set fee in the hope they accept and delete all the spam about how I need a penis enlargement for my non-existent dick. Then if I have Instagram or blogging jobs to do I try to do them whilst its still light outside, setting up the brands product in some shitty layout and blab on about what I think of them in painstakingly unnecessary detail that the company are happy with. Although this proves to be a lot harder than anticipated because there are only so many flat lays or backgrounds I can use for variety within the four walls of my house (and yknow, eyebrows off means I ain’t leaving the house unless for emergencies).
If I don’t have any blogging or insta jobs to complete then I log onto my student account and do some of my uni work, or rather, I pretend im doing uni work but actually got side tracked by the latest serial killer documentary that I have on in the background and then come deadline day I cry into my laptop until ive finished and then repeat the whole cycle again come next assignment. The great thing about Open uni is its so flexible, if im having an ‘ill’ day, where I don’t get anything done, I’m not reprimanded or lectured, instead offered extra support should I want it. You get out exactly what you put in, and there’s no in-between. If I only do an hour a week of uni then I’m not in trouble for missing online lectures or activities, I just notice a decrease on my own ability come the next marked assignment. You are given your assignment due dates for the whole year when you start so there isn’t really any excuse as to why I could miss my August 2018 deadline because I knew it was coming from October 2017. Still, im a pro at leaving it to the last minute.
When I’ve finished work there is usually only an hour or so before john gets back from 0004work so I usually just chill, watch some shitty American tv show and sleep because by now im exhausted. Im exhausted every hour of the day thanks to Crohn’s but when my tasks are done that’s when I reward myself with a nap (it’s the best part of everyday). When john gets home and ive awoken like someone having a nightmare in a horror film, wondering what year it is and where ive been for the last decade, we take luna out for a run. She has developed a keen talent of finding any way possible to get into the River Trent and swims around for a little bit providing the current isn’t strong. If the current is strong, I turn into a crazed mother running after her screaming like she’s the kittens in the ‘Aristocats’ about to be swept away but she never is because y’know, shes a dog, shes a good swimmer. When ive finished having heart palpitations and accusing john of not caring or getting in the river after her, we head home and argue about what we want for tea. The system is fairly simple, ‘Did we have pasta yesterday?’ ‘No?’ ‘Pasta it is’. If the answer is yes its, ‘Okay think of something today and we’ll have pasta tomorrow’. I cook tea and we watch some shit tv before retiring like an old age pensioner to bed at like 10pm where I kid myself into thinking im going to finish my book tonight but instead end up falling asleep to family guy.
Like I said previously, days differ, sometimes I meet up with friends for a drink, sometimes I have to go to venues for various things, sometimes I am at doctors or hospital appointments or tests, some days I check up on the Etsy shop (full feature coming soon) and some days I do absolutely nothing.
So yeah, I do do ‘nothing’ but I don’t do ‘nothing’ at the same time and I’m not ashamed to not have a full time proper job. Of course on a bad day I think badly of myself, chastise myself for not being stronger or having the motivation to push through and get a 9-5 job and feel guilty that some people don’t have the choice but to work. But everybody has their own guilt battles, mom guilt, breaking a diet guilt, work guilt, not going to the gym guilt, spending money on irrelevant things guilt. It’s a natural part of mental health to feel guilty for things we have or do that we know others may not be as fortunate, but it doesn’t mean we are in the wrong. If you have a chronic illness and cannot work, if you are mentally effected by work or if ‘work’ is deteriorating your own health, there is no shame and nothing wrong with taking the back step. It doesn’t make you ‘lazy’ or a ‘doll scrounger’ or a ‘freeloader.’
In July I will be adding to my list of jobs, I will be a full time stay-at-home mom, and I have no shame in being just that. My life aspiration was to be a mother. So I am proud to be able to achieve that and focus all my energy into being the best full time mom.

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*As you may have noticed some of the photography is 100% better than any of my own, including the main header photo. These photos were taken and are owned by HND Photography student, Hayley Leaver. Click on any of her photos (Watermarked) to check out more of her work and show support. More of her images will be featured in upcoming posts.

xx

 

To check out my previous post Click here

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16 Things you didn’t know about Crohns (18+)

Besides the general definition of Crohns Disease which I’ve gone on about and had to describe a billion and one times before I thought I’d make a more cheery (dunno if cheery is the right word but nonetheless its better than putting f*cked up) list of things to expect when you’ve been diagnosed with Crohns or Colitis.

For those who don’t know though here is a quick summary. Crohns disease is an inflammatory bowel disease which causes inflammation anywhere along the gastrointestinal tract – from the mouth to the arse hole, so pretty much anywhere, as well as creating numerous other conditions that can come and go throughout time like anaemia, arthritis, fatigue, etc. Crohn’s is most known for being a “bad stomach ache” which is completely wrong and if you do think that you’re probably one of the idiots that think man flu exists or that Queen Elizabeth is a reptile, so (politely) fuck off.

But anyway, here is my list of things you’ll most likely encounter/have (and probably wont admit to) when suffering with IBD:

 

1.       The most obvious being you shit yourself A LOT.

 

2.       You’ll have done a grand tour of your country’s hospitals, testing each out like a celeb and mentally composing your trip advisor review.

 

3.       Getting drunk is fucking awesome because not only can you be a lightweight, forget all about how you hate your life or be the first to vomit at a party but you can get rid of your constipation by doing a huge vodka shit.

 

4.       Be a twenty year old grandma with arms and legs that don’t bend.

5.       Be wheeled everywhere in a wheelchair when you have a bad flare up and experience what pure luxury is watching someone else suffer pushing you up a hill whilst you chill.

6.       Have a seriously wide knowledge of toilet comforts. (Still waiting for Victoria Plum to respond to my product tester application)

7.       Mastered doing a boss winged eyeliner whilst having an explosive shit.

8.       Not give a fuck about contraception because getting pregnant is FUCKING HARD. (Disclaimer: I’m joking kids, you should always be protected…Alex if you’re reading this, you should just avoid sex altogether.)

9.       Farts probably aren’t just farts but it’s cool cause you wear three pair of granny pants out anyway.

10.   MI5 could hire you for your fast and sly (running to the toilet) exits and skills at convincingly blaming other people for your vile smells.

11.   Prepared with extra coverage foundation for when your face flares and looks like a baboons behind.

12.   Sleep all day everyday.

13.   Having stuff shoved up your arse is just the norm and not a wild Friday night.

14.   Your pet will love you more because you can’t go to work and have to stay with them 24/7.

15.   You have so many pills to take you don’t need breakfast cause they’re practically like a meal.

16.   You’ll probably be a mentally fucked up psycho with no filter and zero fucks given to embarrassing situations but you’re a boss and will slay whatever circumstance life throws at you.

  dont be like the rest of them

 

 

*Disclaimer – [1] these are meant in jest with no harm or offence meant to anyone suffering with or sharing particular similarities to those mentioned in this article. [2] I do not own the ‘don’t be like the rest of them darling’ photo, credit goes to Etsystatic. 

Weekly Ramble #1

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Although i have no idea how this blog post is going to turn out i’m just going to write and see what words follow, there is no purpose to this whatsoever it’s just been so long since i had written a post i felt like if i didn’t it’s one more thing i’ve been too lazy to do. Besides, i’ve got john’s mac and it makes me feel much more sophisticated and fit the persona of a ‘writer’ when i get to use it.

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Nothing much has changed in the past few weeks, still house hunting and although we’ve found one that’s perfect we are having issues with the legal side of things and so i think we’re going to have to let that one go. Why is buying a house so complicated and img_20170122_095829_683expensive? Especially when we find one that’s just right and some other dickhead turns up with more money and decides to steal it, like bitch i’d already planned my colour scheme for the bedroom. So besides failing at buying a house and being too poor to afford to go out i’m sat with the dogs with ear plugs in like an old woman as the rain falls (EXTREMELY LOUD) onto the conservatory roof – which is my bedroom – wishing i’d just stayed in kings heath. But it’s not all bad because although i enjoy my own company i like the fact that i img_20170128_123234_406don’t have to sit on my own everyday and when my sister is off i have an excuse to watch shit tv shows i’m too proud to admit i secretly like, so when john comes home and thinks wtf i can blame my poor tv choices on her and it’s easily plausible. As a 21 yr old who’s planning on buying a home and having a kid i can’t be publicly seen watching ‘Victorious’ and singing along to the songs, declaring my love for Ariana Grande.

img_20170127_134523_692However, on another note, if Luna wasn’t bad enough when she was in season, constantly humping everything and costing us hundreds of pounds, i am now left to practically babysit the other one, margo, as she wipes her giant bloody bits all over my bedcovers. Not gonna lie it’s bigger than her head, imagine a baboons arse been dragged over your pillow and brand new slippers? Yeah that’s what i’m dealing with because my bedroom is downstairs and mom hasn’t taught her boundaries (unlike my perfect luna of course…ha..ha…ha.. Shes staring at me demonically now i feel like one of those people in horror films where there is a demon inside the dog 20170128_132119that controls their every move when people aren’t looking – if you haven’t watched those films seriously watch them they are shitily great).

On the pregnancy front, i genuinely have no idea, i’m still waiting for my body to return to normal but i don’t think it even knows what’s normal itself now. I had my follow up appointment with a gynaecologist as the midwives were querying a bicornuate uterus and septum which would basically be the reason for my two miscarriages. But the scan showed no septum and only a slight bicornuate womb meaning, i have a heart shaped womb instead of a completely rounded one, which could cause some difficulty when the placenta attaches itself but it wouldn’t be the main reason img_20170120_095830_364why i cannot seem to get to 12 weeks. I have an appointment at a recurrent miscarriage clinic which will hopefully enlighten us as to possible reasons although i’m pretty sure i’m going to hear “nobody knows why this happens but it’s fairly common and most people have miscarriages without even realising,”  i practically hear that sentence in my dreams, so many people have said it to me. My GP does seem to think that it is linked to my crohns and the immunosuppressants i am on as a result of 20170121191533the crohns though, so we have a long way to go and i think my dream of actually being able to hold my baby before christmas 2017 is slowly becoming less realistic, all i keep telling myself is that when it finally happens and i get to see and hold my baby for the first time i’ll know that this hardship will all be worth it.

It’s now half 2 in the afternoon and i’m seriously considering taking a nap, i cannot even hear the program i’m trying to watch over the rain and Luna keeps trying to eat my gingerbread house i’m pretty confident is stale now, so imma go. Sorry if i bored you to death throughout this post, it’s more like a ramble of thoughts as i sit contemplating why i am not rich and living the life of luxury or why i 20170115_170818can’t get a huge toned ass and slim body whilst just sleeping and eating mac n cheese (which i really wish you could do at the same time).

Have a good week everybody!

Chloe xxx

 

P.s I dunno what i’m gonna title this post and considering i have nothing interesting going on atm my following posts are probably going to be just a stream of consciousness like this one so i may aswell be pretentious about it and call it a ‘series’ so it sounds purposeful, so here we are the first installment of the ‘Weekly Ramble’.

Also the pictures have no correlation to the text they are just a bunch of photos from this week. You can find more here.

To read my last blog post click here.

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Inflammatory Bowel Disease: My Story

 

The story of my health is an extremely lengthy one (14 years to be exact) but i’m going to attempt to share the, suitably named, “Trials and Tribulations” of the past 14 years leading up to right now. If you manage to reach the end of this blog post then i actually applaud you.

I don’t actually remember when the issues began but i know as a baby i was always a little shite with food and being sick alot more than the average child. I was extremely skinny and the always lovely midwife my mom had referred to me as ‘a scrawny little thing’ which is ironic because she should’ve seen me on steroids last year, i could’ve crushed her with my huge waterballoon arms. Anyway, i was 6 weeks premature due to my mom having a placenta abruption and so an emergency C-Section brought me into the world. There is no solid evidence although there are many speculations on whether IBD can be caused by premature birth and the gut not being able to form completely. I for one think this is a very possible reason as a lot of people i know who suffer with IBD were premature babies, and the earlier they were born, the worse they seem to have it (Disclaimer:This is my opinion and not fact. There is no concrete scientific proof, just hypothesis’).

The earliest incident i can recall was when i was 7 years old, i burst out crying after dropping my biscuits in excruciating abdominal pain (I was probably more upset i dropped food than the pain tbh) when my friend helped me to ‘sick bay’ and sat waiting until my parents picked me up, thinking it was just a standard sickness bug that had been going round, Laura still won’t let me forget my pained face as the custard creams fell to the floor, she seems to find it remarkably amusing. But so began a whirlwind of hospital visits, scans, blood tests, fingers up my arsehole, need i go on? As i lay on the children’s ward in bed with the promise of a nintendo Ds and Nintendogs, the Doctor told me i was going to need to go into surgery as they could not understand why i was in so much pain, (i really wasn’t fussed because i was getting a Nintendo out of it). Instead, the doctor came back and still to this day i do not know what changed their minds but they had decided to give me a phosphorous enema instead, to those who don’t know what one is it, there’s no nice way to explain it, it is a pouch that gets shoved up your arse and lets out a chemical that literally strips out everything that is inside you. Now, let’s paint a picture here, the last time i’d been to the toilet for a shit was February, it was now October and i was that blocked up i was vomming up everything, you can imagine the carnage. To my now 21 year old self i still fucking hate these things, so to my 7 year old self, it was literally the worst , most painful thing i’d ever had, it came out every single exit available (Sorry for the graphic images) and quite frankly was like world war three was going on inside my stomach. However the most painful part of the experience was my dad was not allowed to be beside me, i have always been a daddy’s girl and 7 year old me who genuinely thought this pain meant she was dying, couldn’t have her dad with her because the doctors thought it would be inappropriate for a male to be in the room, so he stood crying outside the door, my dad never cries so remembering this image literally makes me both angry and wanna cry. The following months were of the same things,  more doctors saying they didn’t know what was causing the pain and the extremely severe constipation. After years of the pain coming and going they finally decided to shut up the moaning family of the girl with the stomach ache and tell me (Now 10) i had IBS, irritable bowel syndrome. To anybody reading this who has IBD, that diagnosis is probably all too familiar and frustrating, i know.

Irritable bowel syndrome is not a real thing, it is not a solitary illness, it is an umbrella term for something wrong in that department. Let me break it down, irritable – something that is irritable (obviously), bowel – any place within the bowel area, syndrome – a group of symptoms which consistently occur together. So yes, irritable bowel syndrome (IBS) is not a real thing, doctors just do not know exactly what the issue is.

Lucky for me i have a very stubborn, sometimes crazy and extremely caring mom who literally pissed off every single person in the NHS until they refused to ignore us any longer. By now hospital visits were extremely frequent and my symptoms and flare ups were becoming worse.  To cut things short i developed various other illnesses and ailments caused from my undiagnosed stomach problem. I missed out on months of school at a time and even studied for my exams from home. By the time i was 16 and beginning sixth form my symptoms were the worse they had ever been, i was vomiting every single day and crying in pain, as well as shitting myself every day. But you know, apparently that’s normal? I began to develop extreme anxiety to the point i could not even leave the house in fear of being sick or shitting myself, for 6 months i was house bound until i finally received counselling.

Still, the years continued and despite having more intrusive tests done i was still stuck in the same place, sleeping, vomiting, not eating or drinking because of the pain it would cause, having anxiety attacks and hardly ever going out and eventually developed severe depression, but my mental health is a whole different story that i shan’t go into today.

Skip to when i was 19 when eventually my health got so severe i was weighing just under 5 stone and was kept on a drip as i had not eaten or drank anything (and kept it down) for 28 consecutive days. The doctors wanted to keep me in a special home as i was so malnourished they were worried if i were to go home i would die (not to be melodramatic or anything) but this lead to a whole new gastroenterologist taking my case, which i can honestly say is the best doctor i have had to date. He actually listened to us and didn’t try to deny the fact that we had been completely let down and shunned off as another IBS patient. Even though he didn’t think it would help at all he sent me for a colonoscopy, endoscopy and further tests to see if i suffered with Crohn’s Disease (Which every single person had said i definitely didn’t have because of my acute vomiting). I have had multiple people ask me about these tests on instagram and what’s the best way to approach them, all i can say is HAVE THE SEDATION! I had no sedation on one of them and it was the most horrendous experience. (A colonoscopy is a camera up the arse and an endoscopy is down the throat for those who didn’t know). But low and behold, the test showed positive for Crohn’s, So after 12 years i finally had my diagnosis. I went through various medications and treatments including immunosuppressants and not to mention steroids. Steroids worked an absolute treat for my Crohn’s, all of a sudden i was eating loads (at one point i was eating 5 meals a day) i wasn’t sleeping every second of the day and i had stopped being sick. But then came the bloatedness and ‘moon face’, i put on so much weight, i had reached a weight i never thought i would have and despite feeling great in my stomach i now felt shit about my appearance. When i say i looked like a sumo wrestler crossed with alvin the chipmunk, i’m not kidding, i was small and chubby and full of water retention, one doctor even called me ‘Shreks wife Princess Fiona when she’s the ogre’ i kid you not. It’s humorous but on christmas day i looked like the christmas turkey with a dress on, so after crying about how fat i felt i just got drunk and then never felt better (Until boxing day). After steroids i tried humira injections, which i had to give myself each week. The injections cost £750 per injection and are known as biologics, they are one of the most powerful drugs prescribed, but they don’t half fucking hurt. It got to the point i would have a tantrum like a toddler every time i had to inject myself so john (my boyfriend) ended up stabbing me in the leg to get it over with. But even all these powerful drugs have their own side effects, i could fill a whole other page with the side effects i endured but this post is already long enough as it is.

Right now i am off my injections (due to the severe side effects) and have gone down from 32 tablets a day to only 8. I’m not going to lie, everyday is a struggle, it feels like you are hungover every morning because the fatigue this disease causes is absolutely overwhelming, i am tired literally every second of every day. My sickness is under control and for those wondering, my toilet habits are currently normal, thanks for asking. Changes and flare ups can happen anytime and there is always a good and a bad day so now i just take everyday as it comes. I am now looking into having surgery and having part of my bowel removed and replaced with a bag, although i haven’t come to a conclusion yet so i’ll keep you guys updated on that. Despite all the bad, i have been able to meet so many amazing people through IBD and wellbeing courses i have done which we stay in touch and are there for eachother which is great.There are alot of other points and things that have happened throughout this ordeal but literally i’m even boring myself now. Like i said previously, if you managed to actually make it all the way to the end of this blog post thank you and i actually applaud you because i couldn’t even be arsed to read back through it myself.

I know a lot of the IBD community converse through instagram and have asked me questions about my illness personally but if you want to know anything i haven’t mentioned feel free to ask me either in this blog post or privately through my instagram dawson.xo .

Thank you.

Chloe

xxx