I was rummaging through some old writings. Came across these short diary-like entries from stints in/out of hospital 6 or 7 years back.
These began at a time when I was pretty vulnerable, with no proper diagnosis of the developing illness I had. Gradually, over the weeks, I became more and more aware of this “CROHN’S DISEASE” and started writing about its day-to-day struggles/speculating a lot about its causes.
To this day, Crohn’s has no known cure, but it is more common than people think.
Just no one ever talks about it.
[Each entry is how it was when I wrote it, except maybe for a few spelling/grammar edits. Don’t use them as a guide; they are merely the experiences of a patient coming to terms with an illness (written mostly on a variety of different meds.)]
> Part 3: Ain’t Got the Guts
(Part 2 HERE)
Things were O.K. until a week after I got out. I started vomiting violently 1 night (in-between a Rocky marathon) and going back and forth to the bog every few minutes with everything spraying out the other end (I counted 21 times I went in 1 night).
Something wasn’t right; I just couldn’t keep anything down. Not even water. The pain in my stomach had also come back with a vengeance; and I could barely stand upright, let alone walk.
Didn’t want to go back to the ozzy again, but felt like I had no choice.
My flat mate rushed home from work and saw the state I was in; and I ended up back in St. Jimmy’s with a bed, a tube up my nose; with a shit-load of morphine being injected into my veins.
Now I’ve calmed down a bit.