Bloody hell it’s all popped off innit?!
In the last few months I have gone from no job, trying to plot ways to kill my landlord, generally meandering aimlessly and trying not to have anxiety attacks in my local sainsburys, to moving house – but still trying to plot ways to kill my landlord- finding and obtaining work, moving from that job to another, starting some voluntary work for Crohn’s and Colitis, being out till all hours seeing friends and generally having an awesome time.
As previously mentioned I was in a bit of a dark and twisty place but things have levelled out… Well in fairness they’ve sky rocketed into the other extreme of being so busy that if I lost my diary I would sit in the road and cry.
So imagine my surprise when I received a quite ominous voicemail from the gastro consultant who saw me in clinic a few months ago stating that there was something wrong with my bloods and that she’ll detail it all in the letter she was sending me.
Cue me trying ever so hard not to freak out and try to deal with it when it came. Not quite successful. If I could have turned up at her house shouting “WHAT’S WRONG WITH MY BLOODS” I would have. The Gastro team are like elusive mythical beings. Where the hell are you when I need to talk to you? Why do all of your numbers send me to voicemail or leave me on the phone for 20 minutes wanting to smack my head off a wall till I realise that no one is going to answer this phone call.
So I had to wait it out, I received the letter and low and behold, my liver is still trying to make a break for it.
I feel totally betrayed by my body. I honestly feel fine, better than fine, God fine is such a beige word, fabulous? No, too extravagant. Great feels underwhelming. Hmm Amazing?
Do you like the really redundant train of thought I’m expressing here? Also that I’ve wasted a minute of your life whilst you read those sentences? THAT’S HOW I FEEL ABOUT THE GASTRO TEAM!
Eurgh. I digress. Apologies.
So my bloods are weird and they want me to go back on steroids.
You’re going to have to hunt me down and stab me with an IV before I willingly put that into my system.
Wait, I’ve been here before… and I ended up with Jaundice and in hospital attached to said IV.
I retract the above statement. Can I please not have Prednisolone and can we try Budesonide please Mr Gastro sir?
Which to be honest doesn’t seem to be happening with my team at the moment. It’s all “Take this or lose your liver” Scenario. “Take this, we know it works” rather than, lets try and restore your liver but in a way that doesn’t turn you into a psychotic dark and twisty hamster. (see this post on roids for an explanation)
So I was pretty sad, then I was angry… briefly considered the denial phrase but with me that involves copious amounts of alcohol so I skipped that and I’m now at the acceptance stage.
It’s all about management and looking after myself. Which if I’m honest, I’ve been so excited by my life at the moment that I haven’t really been taking very good care of myself. Yes, I know that makes no sense as we all know that I’ve been in this place before with my IBD, yes I am painfully aware that I should be better at this. Stop looking at me with those judgy eyes. I see you. Stop it.
I’m only human.
And I’m young. I want to have fun. I want to do things and I certainly don’t want to feel trapped by my condition.
But as a couple of friends pointed out to me, they’d rather me make a few sacrifices than see me in hospital or not even around.
Sometimes you need a friend to give you that verbal smack across your head. I said oops upside your head I said oops upside your head.
I got verbally bitch slapped. But its necessary, and I know its because they care about me and you know what? I’m so damn lucky to have friends who will do that for me.
Some changes will be implemented and I’ll have a chat with my gastro team, if I can find them, maybe I’ll send a carrier pigeon. Maybe that’s the only way they correspond?
I’ll keep you posted.