By Rachael Whittemore
Reading the inspiring stories written by my co-fellows and having conversations about what it means to for each of us to be IBD advocates for young people prompted me to consider the different paths that led us to our roles in advocacy. Each of us have been through times of uncertainty, emotional and physical pain, bowel preps, needle sticks, treatments and more to hopefully get us to remission and the promise of life similar to what we had before we were diagnosed. We have different interests, different educational backgrounds, come from different cultures…maybe we’re even from different countries or different areas of the same country. I know my diagnosis story and IBD journey is different from theirs, and that’s ok, but above all else, we share a bond of navigating life as young people with chronic illness.
By this point, you might be wondering - why advocacy? Before I can answer that question, I have another admission: as much as I felt that I was strong and capable and felt like I took everything in stride, I was angry at the world and at my body when I received my diagnosis (I’m sure many of you can relate!). Even though I have an immediate family member with ulcerative colitis, it felt like everything I knew about the disease went out the window once my diagnosis became a permanent part of my medical record. I took care of myself, was always active, ate healthfully, and yet I still ended up with IBD. I felt like my body had broken up with me. Feelings of shame, exhaustion, and physical disconnection came to color those first few months of living with ulcerative colitis, as I realized I would have to figure out how to navigate something that seemed entirely outside of my control.
I won’t sugar coat things – it really did take a while for me to feel like I had a grasp on what my body was experiencing, and the various things I needed to process that, both emotionally and physically. But in time, with the support of family and close friends (and meds and diet changes), I allowed myself to process my diagnosis and my own lived experience, and as a result, I slowly found ways to get my symptoms under control. Still, one question lingered: what to do next? As much as I was frustrated, I thought about how it’s hard to talk about IBD, often viewed as a “bathroom disease,” with others. It seemed like it would never be ok for me to openly discuss IBD and I found myself struggling to figure out how to approach the various aspects of my life that were inevitably impacted by it - from social situations to work requirements. At that time, I was working in a medical office to get experience before going to Physician Assistant (PA) school. To me, there was little clarity among the general public about what IBD was, and a lack of resources for those affected. I wanted to find some way to make a difference, even if only at a small level. This is how IBD and patient advocacy suddenly took on a whole new meaning for me.
“Take a deep breath. You can take that next step…”
I did some Google searching and got involved with the Carolina’s Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation (CCF) and got to know others with IBD. I worked on our local planning committee, attended our Take Steps walk to raise awareness and research funding and, while there, noticed how many young people were walking there as patients. My overlapping time working with CCF and learning how to manage my ulcerative colitis shaped my passion for patient advocacy and education. As a future medical provider (graduation coming up in December!), being a patient advocate was especially important to me since I’d spent extra time in my own patient shoes. This has continued as I became involved with CCYAN and as I started my final clinical rotations for PA school this year.
It may seem like my path to IBD advocacy was clearer cut since I’m in the medical field. While I believe my occupation certainly gives me additional perspective, it was really the weight and frustration I experienced as a patient diagnosed with ulcerative colitis that inspired me to take something negative and use it to positively impact others. For some of you, it might take some time to come to terms with your diagnosis or even recover from being diagnosed in the first place. You might have to recoup from surgery, get used to your infusion schedule, or use more courage than you ever anticipated to get past the ongoing medical visits and unpleasant exams we go through as part of our treatment process.
At the end of the day, even if you already feel ready and able to “do something,” give yourself time to reach a healthy place - physically and mentally. From there, think about your hobbies, passions, and the resources you wish you’d had when you were learning to navigate your own IBD journey. Who knows, you might just find your own path to advocacy. Keep in mind, the word “advocacy” itself might seem intimidating, but there’s no need to ascribe undue weight to it. There are so many things, both large and small, that can have an enormous impact on others. It doesn’t matter if it’s starting an IBD group at your school or a blog about your experience. Remember, the internet can be a beautiful thing and there are many ways to share your story and have it heard and supported by people who can both empathize with and learn from your experiences, even if they’re thousands of miles away.
Take a deep breath. You can take that next step – whether it’s learning how to share some of the uncomfortable parts of your story with your friends or beginning to forge your own path as an IBD advocate. Like many of our fellows have said before, this disease is part of you, but it doesn’t have to define you. Even something as small as sharing the #IBDvisible infographic during Crohn’s and Colitis Awareness Week in December can be a great first step to give others insight into your journey and create a space for dialogue where there was none before. I’ve only lived with ulcerative colitis for four years, but in that time I’ve made peace with my “body breakup,” and I’ve learned to be thankful for all of the amazing things I’m still able to do with this body as someone who is so much more than a diagnosis. And, as more time has passed, I’ve gone from the perspective of “why me?” to “why not? Why not make advocacy a part of my IBD journey?” I hope you’ll find that, in time, you can, too.