As I sit here doing the prep for yet another…

Colonoscopy, I am reminded of just how difficult it was to be in high school with an undiagnosed case of Crohns Ileitis. The trick was trying to get through all of my classes whilst also having to make upwards of eighteen or more trips to the toilet on any given day. Every day I can get chills thinking of that building pressure in my abdomen, just churning away. It made me wish for one of those relief valves they put on cows with an open flame, when they get too much methane trapped in their stomachs, and you can lie the cows down, and they go off like a gut powered Bunsen burner. Oh, the relief that would have provided me at the time. I could have killed for something like that. And I will tell you what, you may think, ‘Oh, you wouldn’t do that, in high school? No way! , you’d feel too ashamed or indignant!’ , and I’d say, after the twelfth pit stop in the men’s room, that I frankly don’t give a shit, and I want this bloating and belly crushing pain to go away, if only for a few hours at a time. I had some real doozy days in high school. I puked all over the inside of my principals Benz on a trip to my doctors office at one point. I know I’ve thrown up inside the office a few times. Had to race home in order to change clothes on many an occasion. IBS and the like are not glamorous maladies. Not to mention all of the fatigue and depression that follows closely behind. Oh, some of it was just awful. Any one with stomach or bowel issues understands the adage of “Never trust a fart”. All too well. But I’m a lucky one, I’ve been in remission for the better part of a decade or more. I had one flare up several years ago, but that was brought on by Mono/Epstein Barr, and I don’t really count it. It still lasted about three months, and required a nine week course of steroids, but eh, not my doing, so I don’t count it. If you want to hear some funny and embarrassing stories, get into a room full of people with moderate to severe Crohns or Colitis and listen to them tell very humbling stories of missed body cues and being mere steps away from the salvation of a toilet bowl, sink, drain, bush or a bucket. We’re a riot when we’re not laid out with a thousand yard stare, and intestinal cramps that feel as though they could crack vertebrae. Here I am, one of the lucky ones, so… yeah. Get yourselves looked at if something feels amiss.