My 2017

On September 10th, my life changed.

In reality, I think it changed a while before that. But I can't pinpoint the exact date where things started to change, so I'll stick with September 10th.

I had a weird year. The first half was wonderful; I participated in a program at my school that allowed me to get class credit to work in an elementary classroom, and I learned a ton and had a blast. Then summer came, and I worked as a nanny again for a wonderful family in my town. In late July there were some personal things that happened to my family that made things scary and hard for a while, but ultimately had a happy ending. I started school in mid-August, and liked my classes just fine.

I'll skip ahead to September now. On September 10th, I was at church with my family, praying a rosary before mass.

Then something shifted.

All of a sudden, I didn't feel good. I can't really explain the feeling. I just felt tired and sickish, and my head felt heavy. I thought it would pass, but it didn't. I spent the rest of the day feeling off, telling myself I just needed a good night's sleep and it would pass.

But it didn't pass.

I'd been having some digestive problems since about mid-August, so I was going to get checked out anyway. I went to the clinic the next day, where I had a low-grade fever and was tentatively diagnosed with possible IBS made worse by stress, and given some suggestions of what to try.

Things didn't get better; they got worse. I thought I had some kind of virus, because my fever didn't go away and I didn't feel better. I kept feeling worse and worse until I couldn't shower without having to lie down for half an hour afterward, and I couldn't eat anything without it causing problems.

I'm going to jump ahead again here, because you really don't want all the details: Over the next month I did a course of antibiotics, and started to feel better. Then suddenly on October 18th, I started to go backwards again. My digestive problems were getting worse, and I was starting to have fatigue again. I missed so many days of school. But there were days I couldn't miss, days when I woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, threw up, and drove to school.

Here's a picture I took on Halloween:

I was dressed as a character from the TV show Merlin, which my sisters and I had binge-watched over the summer and were all still obsessed with. At the time, I liked this picture. But now, when I look at it, all I can see is how sick I was. I was so thin, and so pale (I was wearing pale powder, but honestly, it practically matched my skin-tone anyway and didn't make that much of a difference). I had barely been able to stand long enough to put on my makeup. I can see the fatigue in my eyes.

Fast forword again: On November 3rd, after months of questioning and trying to get better, I had a colonoscopy and endoscopy and was diagnosed with Crohn's disease.

I don't remember very much of that day, because of the anesthesia from the procedure, but I do remember feeling relief at having a diagnosis, and vaguely wondering what my life was going to be like now. I also remember feeling validated, because someone was finally telling me exactly what was wrong with me -- there was an actual physical cause, and it wasn't just stress or IBS. I was sick, and now I could call it what it was.

For those who don't know, Crohn's disease is a type of Inflammatory Bowel Disease, or IBD. The other major type is Ulcerative Colitis. Crohn's is an autoimmune disease where, essentially, your body attacks your digestive system. It presents differently for everyone; mine presents with ulcers and inflammation in the large intestine. Crohn's doesn't just cause digestive problems, however. Because it's inflammatory, it can also cause debilitating joint pain, mouth ulcers, fevers, and fatigue.

I started taking medications to try and get the inflammation down, but my doctor warned me they could take 2-4 weeks to start working. At the time, I didn't care how long it took -- I just wanted to get better.

The next few weeks were some of the hardest of my life. I was exhausted all the time; so much so that I barely left my couch or bed. I had diarrhea, almost constant nausea, I was anaemic, and I was losing weight so fast because I could barely eat. Even sleeping didn't bring me much relief -- I woke up practically every hour, and I was almost always in pain. The only relief was that the steroid I started taking, Prednisone, quickly got rid of the mouth ulcers and knee pain I was having.

About a week after my diagnosis, I decided to take some time off school. I needed to be resting, so I told my teachers I wouldn't be in for the whole week. I wanted to go, but I just couldn't make it. My mom had been driving me because of how bad my fatigue had become, but I just didn't have the energy to make it through classes anymore. My teachers were all wonderful -- they told me to focus on getting healthy, and that we could figure things out later.

The next week, at the recommendation of my doctor, I was admitted to the hospital. I was dehydrated, severely anaemic, and, as it turned out, the breeding ground of C. Diff, a nasty bacterial infection with the same types of symptoms as Crohn's disease.

I was in the hospital for three nights, where I received fluids, antibiotics, high-dose steroids, iron infusions, got a blood transfusion, and got lots of rest. When I went home, I felt a tiny bit better, but not enough to go back to school. My feelings about going home were strange -- I wanted to be at home, so badly, but I was also scared. In the hospital, I had nurses and doctors right there at the touch of a button. I was scared of going home and going right back to where I was before.

After being home for a few days, I started to feel a little bit stronger. My head felt clearer (thanks to the blood transfusion and iron infusions I'd received), and I wasn't in as much pain (thanks to the antibiotics clearing up the C. Diff).

But then Thanksgiving came. Thanksgiving Day itself was good -- I spent it with my immediate family, and my grandparents. I was able to enjoy the meal, and I didn't feel too bad.

The next morning, I ended up in the ER. I'll spare you the details, but basically what happened was my symptoms went quickly from bad to worse, and I almost passed out multiple times. I was terrified, and almost had a panic attack. I've never come that close to full-on panic before. The morning is a blur -- There was a moment where I was sitting down, said I felt dizzy, and my mom told me to put my head between my knees. I sat there, said "I'm trying," and my mom pushed my head down. I don't remember this moment. I remember Mom telling me about it, but I don't remember it happening.

I was only in the hospital two nights that time, but it was enough to help me start actually feeling better. A bit. Enough that I wasn't as miserable as I had been. Around this time I switched doctors; not because there was anything wrong with my doctor, but because I found one who specialized in Crohn's disease. She recommended that I start a biologic treatment, because the medications I was on weren't doing the job. Another characteristic of Crohn's is that it's different for everyone; a treatment that works for one person may do nothing for another.

I was nervous about starting a biologic, but after discussing it with my parents and lots of prayer, I decided to go for it. On December 8th I received my first infusion of Remicade.

Remicade is a TNF-blocker that works to inhibit the body's immune system and block the inflammation. It is given as an IV infusion every eight weeks, after the first few doses (known as loading doses) which are closer together. Most people start noticing a change after their second infusion. I received my first infusion on a Friday, and I was starting to get better by the following Wednesday.

I may only have been receiving Remicade treatments for a month, but I'm calling it my miracle drug. It gave me my life back. I'm back to school now (I didn't go back after early November), and I'm able to go out and do things again, after months of not feeling good enough to even leave my house except for doctor appointments.

Here's a picture I took on New Year's Eve:

I like this picture much better. Even though I took it after midnight, I look like I have energy. There's some color in my cheeks, and my bones aren't sticking out. I look so much more like myself in this picture, and, more importantly, I look happy. When I was so sick, happiness came and went. Mostly I was happy when I felt okay, and could pretend that I wasn't sick.

From August to now has been an incredibly long, painful journey. I am so thankful to my family, friends, God, and my team of doctors and nurses for getting me to where I am now. It's been exhausting, but I finally feel like myself again. Crohn's disease is something that I will live with for the rest of my life. I'm not in remission, but I'm optimistic that I'll get there. I still have some symptoms, but they're nothing compared to what they were.

Crohn's disease took so much from me.
It took my energy.
It took 35 pounds off my body.
It took my ability to go anywhere by myself because I couldn't drive.
It took countless experiences I should have had and memories I should have made.

But I'm fighting back.
And I'm done letting it take things from me.