This Rodent Has IBS

This is the perfect (and funniest) depiction of life with IBS.   You really can eat and within minutes, be in the bathroom or frantically trying to find one, as your body revolts.  

My Colon Is Being An A**hole

Today, I made the bad decision to have two chicken pot pies for lunch.  Less than an hour after eating the delicious mixture of crispy crust, thick gravy, chunks of chicken and a few tasty peas and carrots, I was quarantined in the bathroom, gasping through the 'hold on until your knuckles are white' cramping of IBS.  (Irritable Bowel Syndrome)

When I first began having IBS five years ago, I could still eat nearly everything I wanted to, whenever I wanted to.  Now, food has become the enemy.  Eating isn't safe anymore.  One of the very few things human beings require to keep living is fuel - food turned into energy.  I feel lost as to what to give my body when it repels and expels that which it needs, on an ever changing whim.

IBS is painful and frustrating.  When the first thing you look for in a new restaurant is where the restroom is located or when you're afraid to go out to eat in the first place because public bathroom pooping is sketchy at best, you realize this is changing your life.

Nobody wants to be in the bathroom at Walmart & live through the embarrassment of  nuclear butt explosions while some poor mother is rushing to wash her toddler's hands at the sink so they can get the hell out of there.

And then there is your family, waiting at the table to pay the check and leave while you're figuratively chained to a cold, leg numbing toilet until there's nothing left in your digestive tract.  You know that they're used to it, they understand and yet you're hunched over, tapping out apologies and SOS messages for more toilet paper on the only link with the world for the next half an hour, your phone.

When I was nine years old, my mother abandoned both my four year old brother and myself.  How does that relate to IBS?  Well, both are super crappy.  (Pun intended - humor gets me through.)  But seriously, I mention it because my mom and her sisters all have similar digestive problems.  This seems to be hereditary and it truly angers me that someone who couldn't be bothered to raise their own child has the ability to pass on something so awful to live with.

I know life isn't fair but there gets to be a point where you stand in the middle of a storm called Fibromyalgia, IBS and a bunch of other stuff and you say, "Why me?"  Genetics doesn't offer comfort, nor mercy.  Nor does a padded toilet seat.

You Push And I'll Pelt

As a follow up from one of my recent posts, All I Want Is A Cure And Good News:  I saw the Endocrinologist early this week and he told me that though the first set of tests on the adrenal tumor had come back abnormal, the second set proved that everything is fine.  Yay!

I've had this benign tumor sitting on my right kidney for years.  It's only been the last two years that they've decided to watch it with tests to make sure it doesn't become active.  The doctor wants to check again next December and if it's still 'quiet', we can leave it alone.

Yesterday, I had an appointment with my Gastroenterologist.  It was far less positive.  I have IBS, which is a common concurrent issue with Fibromyalgia.  I also have chronic Diverticulitis.  And ulcers in my stomach.  I have to see a nutritionist on an ongoing basis and go on a very limited diet to try and control the problem areas.

Diet is the worst four letter word in the English language. 

I am what I like to call curvy.  What that really means is I have weight issues but this diet isn't about addressing that problem at all.  When I lose weight, and I will, that will simply be a positive side effect.  A bonus, if you will.

The real issue is the chronic Diverticulitis.  To put it as simply as I can, there are small pockets in my intestine/colon that can catch food particles in the stool and it then becomes infected.  That's.. not good, to say the least.  A big percentage of the population over 40 have those pouches and even more people as they age past 40.  But not everyone has food become trapped in them/infection issues.

Sadly, I do and if it flares up too many times, they will want to do surgery to remove that part of my colon.  Anesthesia is a serious risk for me because of sleep apnea.

It just keeps going, doesn't it?  They all link together to form this invisible chain that binds tighter than any metal ever could.

I have so many thoughts and feelings on all of it.  Last night, I sat at my desk and sobbed - those great big, hiccuping, gulping air sobs of grief.  Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed by it all.

The irony of being sick with any disease, illness or injury is that it takes the strongest person to cope with the physical, mental and emotional aspects but we're so often at our weakest by the very nature of being ill.

I don't know how I do it.  How any of us keep doing it.  Fighting, that is.  But I also don't feel like there's any other choice.

I Should Have Eaten The Eggs

IBS & fibromyalgia are partners in crime that hold my body hostage quite often. However, over time, I have figured out a few things that I cannot eat unless I want to be singing all ten minutes of 'Freebird' over and over from the concert stage of my toilet.

Onions, Tomatoes, Pickles, Eggs, Broccoli, Brussel Sprouts, Lettuce, Spicy Foods, Seeds, Nuts.

Tonight, I made everyone steak and eggs. I really wanted some eggs. Nice, yolky eggs with rye bread toast to go along with my juicy steak. But, I abstained. I made pasta with my steak and I was proud of myself.

Less than an hour later, I was held hostage in the bathroom, cramped up and muttering, "if I leave here tomorrow.."

I hate IBS as much as I hate fibromylagia. These illnesses that have a mind of their own and play tricks on us daily. I have no idea what set the IBS off tonight but I should have eaten the eggs. Dammit.

Diarrhea Of The Mouth

I was talking with Tony last night about, well, poop.  I was very stoned on pain medication, muscle relaxers and that is my only excuse for going off on a bender about my digestion problems.  I have IBS - Irritable Bowel Syndrome - and it is a pain in the ass.  (Puns are always intended on this blog.)

I had not been in sharing mode for long when he said he needed to go AFK. (Away From Keyboard, for those of you who may not know the lingo.)  Maybe he needed to get a drink or feed the cat.  Maybe he needed to laugh at me or possibly, he needed to step away and gag.  Whatever took him away, I didn't let it bother me - I just kept on typing.

I told him the story of my day with IBS.  How I had forgotten to take the Miralax the doctor told me to take every other day.  I said that I was very disenchanted with the IBS medication they had prescribed because it didn't seem to be working at all.

I filled him in on how IBS can cause diarrhea or consipation but for me, it was usually the latter - compacted bowels filled with poop that wanted to stay awhile.  That IBS makes us very gassy and the gas pains are gut-twisting agony.  And how.. if I could just fart, I would feel so much better.  That I was praying for one long, preferably silent and non-smelly fart that would take all of the pain with it.

I had no shame.  I felt like he wanted needed to hear every crappy detail of my life with IBS.  He had no choice in the matter as I flung words onto the screen.  Finally, he returned from AFK & God bless him, he took it in stride as he always does. 

I told him that I was sure when I woke up the next morning and was no longer high as a kite, I would be mortified by what I had shared with him.  The first thought I had this morning was - Did I really talk about farting last night?

...Yes I did.  Boo.