I’m 99% sure that the C-Diff is gone and I’m 100% happy about that. If you’ve had it before, you understand how horrible it is and if you haven’t, well, don’t get it. The fecal transplant, in that regard, was a success and totally worth it. Come on, FDA approve it!
The other part of my colon issue has not improved which is the subject for this entry. I’m starting to feel like a broken record with the symptoms and issues of having Crohn’s, but I want to take some time address the part of having an autoimmune disease that people don’t like to talk about: depression. The whole reason I started this blog was to raise awareness based upon this super brave guy’s post about having Crohn’s. Stu argues that people can’t see our issues, so we get told they don’t exist…
- “You don’t look sick.”
- “It’s all in your head.”
- “Can’t you just not eat?”
- “How bad can it really be?”
- “You’re faking it…”
I wish it wasn’t real and I wish I could just make it go away. But, I can’t. That is depressing. I miss events because I can’t leave my bathroom or because I can’t leave my house. I lay in bed for hours in pain and wonder why they can’t find a cure for this horribleness that is inside of me. I have a pretty good sense of humor, but when this has been going on for SIX MONTHS, nothing makes me smile or laugh.
What probably hurts the most is when people don’t understand. And, yes, I’ve lost friends over it. You might say that they aren’t very good friends, but it hurts all the same. I’m depressed. I’m on medical leave right now while they throw drugs in my system to try and get me to stop crapping myself, and I feel absolutely awful. In the past three weeks, minus medical related things, I’ve left my house twice. Otherwise, I lay in bed watching documentaries about history events and reruns of The Golden Girls. I don’t have the energy to sit up and crochet. I have nothing to write in my planner. Everyone else I know has a job and my family all lives three hours away.
I’m really lucky though. I have an awesome husband who helps me. He lays in bed with me once the baby is down for the night and he holds me. He watches TV in bed with me and lets me talk his ear off because I have no one else to talk to in real life. He makes what little food I can tolerate over and over for meals.
I’m not asking for your sympathy. I’m asking for your grace. Just because you don’t see someone with an autoimmune disease have a physical impairment, please don’t assume they aren’t sick. Because we are. And it really hurts when someone thinks that we aren’t or that we can just make this go away. Trust me, I want my life back.
Also, still fighting with my insurance because they won’t pay for my new medication. Grr.