Life Lessons from an Inflamed Colon
Tomorrow's the big day and I spent some time this weekend doing some reflection, journaling, and talking to my body about what will be happening. I was told that when an organ is being removed it's a good idea to release that body part with love and gratitude for what it has provided.
Here are some excerpts from my journal:
Dear Colon,
Thank you for 32 years of hard work. For 25 years I didn't think about you at all. We ate homemade pasta in Italy, lobster on the Cape, and s'mores by the campfire. You processed nutrients, extracted water, and eliminated waste. You were such a steady, reliable part of my daily functioning that I took you for granted.
Things started to get tough in 2009. That's when your inflammation and suffering began. Since then you have been tested and tried, poked and prodded with colonoscopies, sigmoidoscopies, biopsies, pills (Lialda, 6MP, prednisone), and infusion medications (Remicade, Entyvio). We tried alternatives to Western medicine and found some amount of relief in the Specific Carbohydrate Diet. We tried acupuncture, meditation, herbal supplements, and FMT. We saw lots of doctors. We did a lot of internet research.
I'm sorry that I couldn't save you. I wish I could have, but we both know we've put up a good fight. Maybe there is another way to self-heal, but I don't know what that is and life is too short. I don't want to suffer forever and neither should you. We can't go on with all that discomfort and blood and dangerous side effects and the looming risk of colon cancer.
So, the ironic thing is that tomorrow, the doctors are removing my guts, but the truth is that I am gutsier now than ever before. You have taught me the true meaning of what it means to have "guts" and that will stay with me long after you have been removed. I am eternally grateful for these lessons you have taught me:
1. From the lowest depths of despair, there will be a point at which you hit rock bottom and the only place to go is up. When things get really bad, they can lead to positive change, even if it's a slow march. It's important to ask for help.
2. Challenges make us stronger. I have become braver and found my voice in advocating for myself- not because I wanted to, but because I had to. None of us have it all together, but what really matters is how we deal with the cards we've been dealt.
3. We live in a world of myths and it is important to be an independent thinker. Contrary to what we are socialized to believe, living a good, healthy life does not mean sleep deprivation, rushing around, and putting toxins into our bodies. Doctors are not all-knowing sources and western medicine does not have all the answers. Pulling back the curtain on these myths can be hard, but I'd rather be aware.
4. Sometimes it's restrictions that can set us free. For me, staying away from old favorites like bread or chocolate is difficult, but it has made me able to participate more actively in things that really matter.
5. It's the people in our lives that make it all worthwhile. You can't go through this shit alone (pun intended!) and you shouldn't have to. I have built amazing relationships with doctors, family members, friends, and colleagues during the last 7 years. The more I share my story, the more connected I feel. And I love listening to others; we all have an important story to share.
So, my dear colon, can't you see that you have made me wiser and stronger? I know there were times that I seemed angry, but please know that I forgive you and you didn't do anything wrong. I love you and respect you and give you permission to stop trying. Go rest. Be at peace. I will be fine without you. In fact, I will be better without you. Thank you.
With all my love and gratitude,
Stephanie
Here are some excerpts from my journal:
Dear Colon,
Thank you for 32 years of hard work. For 25 years I didn't think about you at all. We ate homemade pasta in Italy, lobster on the Cape, and s'mores by the campfire. You processed nutrients, extracted water, and eliminated waste. You were such a steady, reliable part of my daily functioning that I took you for granted.
Things started to get tough in 2009. That's when your inflammation and suffering began. Since then you have been tested and tried, poked and prodded with colonoscopies, sigmoidoscopies, biopsies, pills (Lialda, 6MP, prednisone), and infusion medications (Remicade, Entyvio). We tried alternatives to Western medicine and found some amount of relief in the Specific Carbohydrate Diet. We tried acupuncture, meditation, herbal supplements, and FMT. We saw lots of doctors. We did a lot of internet research.
I'm sorry that I couldn't save you. I wish I could have, but we both know we've put up a good fight. Maybe there is another way to self-heal, but I don't know what that is and life is too short. I don't want to suffer forever and neither should you. We can't go on with all that discomfort and blood and dangerous side effects and the looming risk of colon cancer.
So, the ironic thing is that tomorrow, the doctors are removing my guts, but the truth is that I am gutsier now than ever before. You have taught me the true meaning of what it means to have "guts" and that will stay with me long after you have been removed. I am eternally grateful for these lessons you have taught me:
1. From the lowest depths of despair, there will be a point at which you hit rock bottom and the only place to go is up. When things get really bad, they can lead to positive change, even if it's a slow march. It's important to ask for help.
2. Challenges make us stronger. I have become braver and found my voice in advocating for myself- not because I wanted to, but because I had to. None of us have it all together, but what really matters is how we deal with the cards we've been dealt.
3. We live in a world of myths and it is important to be an independent thinker. Contrary to what we are socialized to believe, living a good, healthy life does not mean sleep deprivation, rushing around, and putting toxins into our bodies. Doctors are not all-knowing sources and western medicine does not have all the answers. Pulling back the curtain on these myths can be hard, but I'd rather be aware.
4. Sometimes it's restrictions that can set us free. For me, staying away from old favorites like bread or chocolate is difficult, but it has made me able to participate more actively in things that really matter.
5. It's the people in our lives that make it all worthwhile. You can't go through this shit alone (pun intended!) and you shouldn't have to. I have built amazing relationships with doctors, family members, friends, and colleagues during the last 7 years. The more I share my story, the more connected I feel. And I love listening to others; we all have an important story to share.
So, my dear colon, can't you see that you have made me wiser and stronger? I know there were times that I seemed angry, but please know that I forgive you and you didn't do anything wrong. I love you and respect you and give you permission to stop trying. Go rest. Be at peace. I will be fine without you. In fact, I will be better without you. Thank you.
With all my love and gratitude,
Stephanie
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