The Year Of Me

I don’t know about you, but I make New Year’s Resolutions every year. Usually though, they are half-hearted and vague things that I have forgotten by January 8th. But this year was different. Really.

Christmas 2006 sucked. I felt bad all day. And the day after Christmas, I spent 6 hours straight in the bathroom. I swear. You can ask my husband who brought me sprite and water and when I was feeling adventurous, plain baked chicken. We where at my in-laws house, and I spent the morning on the toilet in horrible pain or laying on the bathroom floor too nauseated to move. It was the first time I had ever had rectal bleeding with my diarrhea. I kept having horrible pains and small movements of blood and mucus and just lovely gross stuff.

For SIX HOURS STRAIGHT.

When it calmed down, I decided that I had had enough. It was time to take care of me. To get the the bottom of all the things I just live with because I didn’t place myself first or care enough about myself to try to fix. When the bleeding kept coming and going after I got home from vacation, I called the doctor. Who sent me to the GI. And finally, I am starting to work on me, and what I need to do to feel better about myself and my life.

For years I have felt embarrassed by my stomach troubles. I always felt like a burden on my friends and a part-popper (ha. ha.) when symptoms would get in the way of fun. I tried to keep it to myself and tried to not make a big deal about it. But as the list of trigger foods got longer, and the symptoms got worse, the circle of people who had to know got wider. I am trying to tell myself that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. It is what it is. And I can only work to control the IBS so much. I am lucky in that I have a wonderful husband who reminds me whenever I need it that I didn’t do anything to cause this. It’s not my fault. After all, as he points out, I am not making myself sick on purpose.

So this year, my resolution was to get to a doctor and feel better. To take better care of myself, and to get to a point where I feel good about me. So it’s The Year Of Me. No more excuses, and no apologies. I’m working on the IBS. I have a GI that I like, and if the Bentyl he has me on now doesn’t work, I am not going to give up. I’ll be working with him until I can live a life I enjoy. And if he ticks me off, he isn’t the only GI around. I’ll find another one if I need to.     And because stress and your mental state are such a part of this, I’m working on other things to – other “me” things that I have put off or just haven’t cared enough about. For example, I’ve struggled with my weight for years. Since my son was born, I’ve lost 30 pounds. I want to lose another 20. I want to feel good about how I look so that I can resist the junk food that makes me sick. I need to see a dermatologist. I keep putting it off. I have a mole that has bothered me for years, and damn it, its coming off. We’re just going to have to find the money. I am going to go on a date with my husband this year! I vaguely remember what that is like. So my friends who have offered to baby sit damn well better pay up cause I’m going to collect.  

I started this blog as part of the new me. The mental stress that goes along with a chronic disease can be debilitating. And, as much as they love me, my friends really just don’t understand. They haven’t been there. There average person gets diarrhea a few times a year, not a few times a month, and definitely not a few times a week. My friends don’t have to know every pit stop on any route they travel, and most of them don’t fear traffic jams. They don’t ask for the location of the bathroom in the restaurant before the menus are even opened. So this blog really is for me. Some where to let it out. Somewhere I can put the lots that race through my head. The ”yay me!” and the “woe is me”.  Read it. Don’t read it. Which ever suits you. I am still going to write. Because it makes me feel better. I’ve been holding it in for ten years, and I’m tired of it. And who knows, maybe some one out there will read it and understand exactly what I am going through. And maybe that will make both of us feel better.