Obtaining Higher Levels of Degrees as an IBD Patient

By Isabela Hernandez (Florida, U.S.A.)

Many people go on to get their master’s, go to law school, medical school, or any form of higher degree past an undergraduate education. I am currently in the midst of applying to medical school. Recently, I have been filled with an anxiety about the future of when I do start this career path. This anxiety is not centered around whether I am capable of handling the pressures of medical school, but rather, if my ulcerative colitis is.

My goal is to go to medical school; it always has been. I know that I can handle it and have the potential to succeed. But, what scares me, is if my body can handle the lifestyle of a medical student. I have often heard from current medical students that it is a constant study, class, study, exam, and repeat lifestyle, leaving little time for self-care. It is so difficult when mentally you know you can do something, but you never know what you can expect from your IBD. It is so frustrating sometimes when you're in this battle of uncertainty with your disease, truly feeling like the future is uncontrollable. I am writing this not to give any sort of advice, only to express how I feel about a path I have chosen for myself and if anyone else can relate to my concerns.

Since it is completely different from undergrad, I am not completely sure if the tactics I acquired there will even apply in medical school. I know that I will need to find ways to mitigate my stress and my disease at school, in order to achieve balance and reduce flares. But this is always easier said than done. I am still a while away from actually getting into school and starting, but I want to address this fear by recognizing that “you don’t know until you know.” This is a phrase my sister always says to me when I start overthinking about the future and scenarios that might negatively affect my progress. One never knows how things are going to turn out until they actually happen, and for the most part, the anxiety leading up to an event is always worse than the actual moment that it happens. I hope by writing this, I encourage not only myself, but others to pursue any career choice they know deep down they would succeed in. Don’t let your IBD scare you away from a bright future, like mine has been trying to. Rather, focus on the facts that you know now, address them, and work your way into the future. The future is always unknown, so we might as well try for the best future we can.

This article is sponsored by Trellus

Trellus envisions a world where every person with a chronic condition has hope and thrives. Their mission is to elevate the quality and delivery of expert-driven personalized care for people with chronic conditions by fostering resilience, cultivating learning, and connecting all partners in care.

Working Full Time with IBD

By Carina Diaz (Texas, U.S.A.)

All I remember wanting when I was really sick was to have my own apartment and a full time job like my friends. I’ve been working a 9 to 5 job for almost three years now and have fully experienced the pros and cons. What I didn’t realize until I started was that managing my IBD is a job within itself. Balancing the two can be very exhausting.

The accessibility that remote work provides has really changed the game.

Deciding to disclose that you have IBD to your employer is a difficult and personal choice. I have been very lucky that at my current and previous jobs, I’ve felt comfortable talking about my illness. Not only that, but COVID-19 has made the world embrace remote work, and as someone who deals with fatigue regularly, this has helped me a ton. I don’t have the energy to get up every day, make breakfast, shower, and commute to work. The accessibility that remote work provides has really changed the game.

It can be tricky in an interview to gauge work culture, but I’ve found that it’s very important to ask as many questions as possible on it. Below is a list of some examples:

1. How would you describe the work environment?

2. What is your management style?

3. Which company value do you more relate to and why?

4. What are the qualities of the top performing employees?

5. What does work/life balance look like at your company?

These questions can help give a clearer picture on what the company is expecting from their employees. Do they micromanage? Or do they just care that you get the job done? Do they work more than 40 hours a week? Are the top performers workaholics? What are the benefits and perks of working there? The answers will reveal a lot.

It can be tricky in an interview to gauge work culture, but I’ve found that it’s very important to ask as many questions as possible on it.

Another perk of my current role is having unlimited PTO. If I feel like I need a day off to rest, I’m able to do so. It’s not just a nice vacation perk. Organizations like Chronically Capable are great resources to find jobs that have flexibility. It helps to start your job search with a list of “must have” qualities that you’re not willing to compromise on. Tiktok has also been a really good resource on building a resume, interview tips, and how to plan a job search.

A “must have” on my list is being open about having IBD in the interview process to gauge how it’ll be received. I mention having monthly doctor appointments, but that this wouldn’t get in the way of finishing tasks. Most companies I’ve interviewed with have said that’s no problem, and I’ve been very lucky in that regard, but not every organization will be that way. 

There are laws in place to prohibit discrimination, but unfortunately not every employer is willing to be flexible and offer appropriate accommodations. I feel very lucky to have positive experiences when joining the work force so there are good employers out there! For me, being open about my illness is a way of advocating for myself and ensuring that my needs are met.

Embracing the term "Disability"

By Natasha Kacharia (U.S.A.)

Last year, I was applying for an internship. I do not remember what internship but that is not the point. This internship, like most, had a voluntary self-identification of disability section that goes on to list what a disability may include: blindness, deafness, cancer, etc. However, this list was different because it included gastrointestinal disorders.

I know. I know. The lists of disabilities are usually prefaced with the phrase: disabilities may include but are not limited too. Yet, the fact that this internship specifically bulleted my condition put an unexplainable smile on my face.

You see, the voluntary self-identification of disability section always stressed me out. I never knew what box to check: yes, no, or I do not wish to disclose.

Screensot from the Voluntary Self-Identification of Disability form

The fortunate or unfortunate reality of living with a chronic illness is that people do not see the constant stomach cramps, the hemorrhaging of blood, the fatigue, the insomnia, the arthritis, or the nausea, and they definitely do not see the psychological effects of the disease. No, when people look at me, they see a healthy, possibly a little unfit, college student.

Thus, when the disability section inevitably comes on the application, I always wonder what box to check: yes, no, or I do not wish to disclose.

The same questions always run through my head: Does my condition qualify as a disability? Am I disabled?

Do you understand my indecisiveness now? When people think disability, I am not the person they imagine.

However, with a singular phrase – gastrointestinal disorders – the internship made me feel seen. Finally, I was free from my indecisiveness and the weights of my secret. For a singular moment, my invisible illness did not feel so invisible anymore.

Yet, I still had trouble identifying as disabled. Was I only disabled when I was in a flare, or can I always check the disability box? Do employers only ask for disability disclosure to engage in affirmative action for individuals with disabilities? If so, then do I have the right to check the disabled box, as having an invisible illness, I have not been actively discriminated on due to it. Meeting other people within the chronic illness community simply made me more confused; some readily embraced the term disability, while others sheered away from the term chronically ill. I met people whose illnesses were far more severe than mine and did not self-identify the term disabled, so what gave me the right? Was I being overdramatic? The fact that the people surrounded me did not recognize my struggles did not give me the space to embrace my own struggles.

But I am done. I am done with self-doubt. I may have an invisible illness, but I am done being invisible. I am ready to dance in the open, so for my next application, I am going to check yes. Yes, I have a disability.

Featured photo by Tara Winstead from Pexels.

Imposter Syndrome Being Healthy

By Isabela Hernandez (Florida, U.S.A.)

I was diagnosed with IBD when I was three, specifically with ulcerative colitis. When I look back at my life, there is not a time where I do not remember constantly living and dealing with my chronic illness. When I think about my childhood, the first thing I think of is being sick. Living with illness means we deal with an extra set of emotions and priorities that a lot of the world does not have to. Medicines, appointments, refills, procedures, and pain immediately flood my brain the minute I wake up in the morning. It is something we all deal with and try to integrate as best we can into our daily life.

Medicines, appointments, refills, procedures, and pain immediately flood my brain the minute I wake up in the morning.

As I grew up, in a strange and twisted way, I started to feel comfort being sick. Hospitals felt like home. Walking into doctor’s office felt more normal to me than walking into school. Over time, I felt this intense solace within being sick and for some reason, started to feel uncomfortable being healthy. Being sick was MY normal, so what was being healthy? Around the time I was 11 or 12, I was put on an experimental treatment that allowed me to stay in “remission” until I was 19. I put remission in quotes because it does not mean the disease is done and over. We still deal with medications, appointment, mild procedures, and mild symptoms. In these seven years where my disease had toned down, every day I woke up with this feeling that being somewhat healthy was wrong. I knew how to be sick. I was good at it. But, I had no idea how to deal with anything being in remission. I had a serious case of imposter syndrome these years and felt this extreme anxiety that in any moment, I was going to go back into my comfort zone of flaring, something I had endured for so long that it felt normal.

It is not fair that we spend so much more time in sickness than in health, that now sickness is our normal.

Not a lot of people mention that although flaring IS the worst part of having IBD, being in remission doesn’t mean life is instantly easy. It comes with a whole new set of fears and anxieties about how to go back to “normal” life. What is normal life for us when in remission? It is very confusing and something I still try to figure out on the daily. It is not fair that we spend so much more time in sickness than in health, that now sickness is our normal. It is our life. But what I have come to realize is that my sickness is NOT who I am. It has definitely shaped many parts of my personality and how I have become who I am now, but it is not the biggest and most defining part of who I am. I used to think that my IBD was who I am and that is it. It is definitely not, and we are just the people that our sickness has shaped us to be. I know that every day is a struggle, in remission or in a flare. I recognize that and actively try to remind myself that even though I feel comfort being sick, it is NOT normal. It just makes us all stronger.

---

 This article is sponsored by Trellus

Trellus envisions a world where every person with a chronic condition has hope and thrives. Their mission is to elevate the quality and delivery of expert-driven personalized care for people with chronic conditions by fostering resilience, cultivating learning, and connecting all partners in care.

Friendship and IBD: Know when to not give advice

By Varada Srivastava (India)

Hanging out with friends, attending parties, going to school are all things kids with Crohn's disease lose out on. You’re hospitalized or too sick to get out of bed many times, especially during the beginning stages of diagnosis. Not to mention the mental health issues that come with dealing with a chronic illness from a young age - anxiety, depression, PTSD associated with hospitalization are all too common. It can be very difficult to maintain friendships when you’re trying to survive daily life. How people react to your chronic illness is one of the pivotal points of friendship. I couldn't help but notice a pattern between the friendships I’ve maintained over the years. The common factor between them has been my friends’ ability to listen and not give unsolicited advice when I am talking about my disease. This is a quality I personally look for, however I have heard from many of my other friends who have a chronic illness that this is something they appreciate as well.

As someone who has been living with this illness for more than 6 years now, I have received my fair share of undesired advice from family, friends and random strangers. It is something that really aggravates me. Getting advice when you're trying to rant is pretty annoying in general but when you add IBD - something that is a very personal and a sensitive topic - the reaction you get can be explosive. Living with a chronic illness is tricky, most of us have figured out what works for us whether it's medicine or food after a long and painful journey. And as young adults, most of that journey is still left. One of the main reasons why some of us have such a negative reaction towards this is because it comes across as insensitive and like a privileged view on something very complicated.

This however, doesn’t mean that you don't look out for your friends with IBD. One of the foundations of a good friendship is caring for and helping out your friends. If you are a loved one of someone who suffers from a chronic illness, ironically, this is the advice I would give you:

1

Ask your friend whether this is something they are comfortable talking about. Never push them to talk about their diagnosis, medicines or journey.

2

Don't take it personally if this is something they would like to keep private. Many of us have gone through very difficult diagnosis journeys and talking about them can bring back a lot of trauma.

3

Research about the condition. Try to understand where your friend is coming from and what they struggle with on a daily basis.

4

Try not to give unsolicited advice, but do intervene if you notice them doing something that may not be in their best interest.

Having a good support system is extremely important for someone with a chronic illness. Friends give us a safe space to express and explore our emotions. Friends are, in reality, the best emotional medicine for people like us to overcome sadness and motivate us to take a leap of faith to transform our lives for the better.

Photo by Helena Lopes from Pexels.

IBD in College – Put it on your Resume!

By Isabela Hernandez (Florida, U.S.A.)

“It was a burden that I hated and equated as the worst part of myself. From the ages of 3 to 19, I treated it as this deep dark secret that I told no one about.”

I used to think that confident people were born confident, brave people born brave, and happy people born happy. An immature thought, but I believed characteristics like these were just naturally inherent. I convinced myself that I was just born to be sick with my IBD. It was a burden that I hated and equated as the worst part of myself. From the ages of 3 to 19, I treated it as this deep dark secret that I told no one about. For some reason, it was virtually impossible for me to tell friends about my UC and how it affected me. I kept everything to myself and never shared when I was feeling physically sick, or even worse, mentally drained. Luckily, I have a great family, an unrelenting support system that even when I didn’t want them to be, they were there for me. However, when someone with IBD goes to college, either newly diagnosed or a long-time patient, their assumptive world shatters. You’ve moved miles away from home with the most annoying friend you could ever think of, your IBD. At least that’s what I thought when I got to school. How am I going to deal with it? Am I going to tell people? Will they think I’m weird? What do I eat? What if I must go to the bathroom in class?

The questions were looming over me the minute I got to school. My fear overwhelmed me; it convinced me to believe that I would never find a way to integrate my UC into my new college life. I was fighting this mental battle against myself, and simultaneously seeking to get involved in any sort of organization at my school to feel more comfortable there. My university happens to be heavily research focused, and I was interested in the healthcare field. I decided to push myself out of my comfort zone and join a lab that focused on the one thing I knew the most about, IBD. It was there, in that moment that I felt empowered by my disease for the first time. I chose to openly use my IBD as a qualification, as an asset rather than a detriment. As time went on, I started to get more involved in other organizations that focused on IBD, such as this fellowship, that views one’s IBD as a contributing factor rather than a limiting one. I took a part of myself that I once hated and allowed it to become a distinctly unique piece of me. The transformative growth I underwent from concealing my IBD to using it to make me stand out was an unparalleled feeling.

“I am continuously seeking out ways in which I can intertwine IBD with my life, my work, and my interests.”

My biggest recommendation for anyone in college with IBD is to put IBD on your resume! Not literally, but in your own rhetorical way. Have it be your secret superpower that allows and pushes you to get involved in opportunities that reside in a world you so deeply understand. Work with nonprofits for IBD, get involved in research, or join a support group. Apply for scholarships for students with IBD. If you don’t happen to find any opportunities for students with IBD, start some! Start a support group or start a club exclusively for college students living with IBD. Find absolutely anything that connects you to your disease, because the minute you do this, you start to not only view your disease, but your potential, in a different light. If we as IBD patients are going to live with this forever, we might as well use it in a way that gives us the upper hand. Live a life with activities that are filled with opportunities that let you be proud to be someone with a chronic condition. Four years ago, I would have never been able to muster up the confidence to talk about my disease in the way I do. Today, the version of me that exists cannot stop talking about it. I am continuously seeking out ways in which I can intertwine IBD with my life, my work, and my interests. Every day, reaffirming that my IBD is the part of myself I am most proud of. Don’t let IBD hold you back from finding opportunities that make you feel fulfilled in a way you might’ve never known existed; use it to your advantage. It is a piece, that once embraced, can be advantageously employed in a surprisingly positive way.

"But You Don't Look Sick" - A Photo Journal

By Vasiliki-Rafaela Vakouftsi from Greece.

“But you don’t look sick”. How many times I have heard this? Maybe I don’t look sick to you but I am sick and my daily life is far from what you may think. 

I tried to captures in pictures my daily routine as a chronic patient and I’m going to share them with you. 

First of all, let me tell you some things about me. My name is Vasiliki-Rafaela, I’m a musician and I have Crohn’s Disease, Adrenal Insufficiency, Psoriasis and Psoriatic Arthritis. I have written a book about my journey with Crohn’s and a book about my life with Adrenal Insufficiency. Also, I really like traveling and I really miss it with the pandemic. 

Now let’s start with the hospital visits…

...the hospital stays and therapies…

...the hospital stays and therapies…

...take the pills, medicines and supplements…

...and maybe today is the day of the week for the injection for Crohn’s…

...or maybe I need the emergency shot for Adrenal Insufficiency…

And now it’s time for a walk.. Don’t forget to carry the pills with me...

...and of course my medical ID…

Back at home again.. Really exhausted...Let’s check the e-mails and read a book before going to sleep

That’s a little idea of how my daily life is. But, you’re right. So before saying “You don’t look sick” think of what is behind the image and what you cannot see…

Growing Pains: IBD Lessons Learned from the COVID-19 Pandemic

In March 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic turned the world upside-down as we knew it -- that, in and of itself, is already the understatement of the year. Disability activist Alice Wong spoke of how the nation’s need for ventilators in hospitals directly conflicted with her needs as a disabled patient; Tiffany Yu, founder of Diversability, used her platform to raise awareness of transparent masks for easy lipreading access. Already, at-risk patients suffered from a lack of attention and space, only for this to be exacerbated by a public health crisis. 

However, the pandemic also offered a chance for those with disabilities, and specifically IBD, to rethink our routines and lives. For example, in my own experience with Crohn’s disease, I’ve found that staying at home during the school semester had me re-thinking all my prior decisions in my relationship with food. It was, in fact, possible to regulate my diet and work in my medications without compromising my education -- the flexibility of virtual classes in university had opened up a new way of life for myself, one where I could sneak off to the bathroom during lecture without worrying about missing key points or bumping into desks. 

Living with Crohn’s, it often feels as though my time is not my own. This phenomenon of constantly running on other people’s schedules is not exactly unique to Crohn’s or IBD as a whole -- in fact, it refers to a concept known as ‘crip time,’ in which society and its timetables ought to bend to meet the needs of disabled bodies and minds. It’s a community-inspired term that essentially encourages us all to work on our own time, taking up space as necessary to meet our individual body and mind’s requisites. 

Whether it’s knowing where the nearest bathroom is, or having accommodations to turn the Zoom camera off, accessibility is an essential cornerstone of working with IBD. As a college student, I’ve found that communication with professors and administrators has become easier in a virtual setting, allowing for flexible office hours and minimal commute to buildings. In all workplaces, key lessons should be taken and continuously applied from the pandemic, particularly in regards to accessibility for disabled folks. 

With this being said, a major caveat is that we as a society are almost always ‘plugged in’ or online -- being available on Zoom has made it near impossible to draw the (much-needed) line between home and the office, allowing professionals to work around the clock. As the world shifts back to a new state of burgeoning normalcy, may we all remember the importance of accommodating disabled folks in the workplace, in-person and virtually. 

For those with IBD or any chronic illness, it is of the utmost importance that we too learn where to place boundaries in our work lives, prioritizing our physical and mental health above all. 

Diversity in IBD: Being Disabled and Asian American

Almost exactly one year ago, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease after a grueling few months of trial-and-error diagnoses by my medical team. Truth be told, the news was a shock to my family, but not for the reasons you may first think of. 

In my mother tongue, there is no widely accepted translation for “Crohn’s disease,” not to mention “Inflammatory Bowel Disease.” In a way, my Asian American identity is one reason why it took so long for me to receive my diagnosis of Crohn’s disease in the first place; my gastroenterologist had not previously thought to test for a condition that was thought to be more common in Caucasians or Ashkenazi Jews. Even amidst official resources from various foundations, it is admittedly difficult to find Asian representation within the IBD community.

As a disabled Korean American woman, I experience IBD through the lens of multiple marginalized identities. At the intersection of ability, ethnicity, and gender lies an incredibly complex set of conversations that society has yet to fully parse out and create space for. 

While chronically ill and disabled folks found themselves facing a morphing status quo that was being overturned by a worldwide pandemic, their fight for accessibility and accommodations was simultaneously accompanied by embroiled racial justice initiatives. The Health Advocacy Summit has written extensively on how racism is a public health crisis, underscoring the need to include all marginalized communities in our activism efforts.

Personally speaking, I came face-to-face with the inevitable intersectionality of advocacy in the fight against anti-Asian hate. In the wake of 2020, the United States began to witness an alarming surge in anti-Asian racism that quickly escalated to violence and hate crimes. As a chronically ill patient, I knew exactly how it felt for an entire community to be marginalized, vulnerable, and at-risk, making it all the more urgent for me and my fellow student leaders to speak up against these acts of hate.

The intersectionality of these two identities is rarely discussed, yet they both mold and inform the other. My diet, my language, and my roots are so intimately tied to my Korean heritage, and in turn, my Asian American identity shapes the way I understand my chronic illness. As Sandy Ho wrote in Alice Wong’s Disability Visibility, “taking up space as a disabled person is always revolutionary,” but especially in the ways in which traditional East Asian attitudes often conflict with the mindset of the evolving American immigrant. 

The same goes for the ways in which Asian culture influences food options for those with IBD. Nandani Bhanot, another 2021 CCYAN Fellow, wrote about how IBD diets and treatments are rarely created with people of color (POC) in mind, alluding to the lack of content on modified diets with traditionally Asian dishes.

Moving forward, I believe that my journey with Crohn’s disease and Asian American advocacy are not unrelated, but in fact, closely tied. Perhaps the best next step our IBD community can take is to create space for disabled POC, uplifting their stories and amplifying their voices. 

"You Don't Look Disabled"

“ You don’t look disabled. 

“You don’t look disabled” but some days I couldn’t go to school because I couldn’t leave my bathroom.

“You don’t look disabled” but I have to go to the hospital every two months for the rest of my life. 

“You don’t look disabled” but I have tried seven different medications for the same disability within three years. 

“You don’t look disabled” but some days my joint pain was so bad I couldn’t even pick up a pencil. 

“You don’t look disabled” but every time I walk into a hospital I am comforted and terrified at the same time.

“You don’t look disabled” but I used to sleep only three hours every single day for weeks because my steroids made it impossible to sleep.

“You don’t look disabled” but some days I can feel my throat close up from suppressing my anxiety.

“You don’t look disabled” but I have sat on my bathroom floor feeling like I couldn’t breathe because the nausea from my medications was so overwhelming.

“You don’t look disabled” but I am. ”

I have never understood why people tell me I don’t look disabled or that I don’t look sick. What is disability supposed to look like? Disability is not singular. Disability does not look one way. Disability is diverse. 

I do not want to prove I am disabled to strangers or people I know.

Though the intention behind this phrase may be to compliment me, I never feel complimented. I feel small. I feel like a fraud. I feel like I am faking my disability in some way. I feel like I do not know my identity. 

It is time for people with invisible disabilities to stop being doubted for being disabled. It is time for everyone to change their perspective of what disability looks like. We must listen to others’ stories. We must stop being bystanders when people with disabilities are doubted. 

Disability is not a bad word. It is not offensive. We should not be afraid of it. 

I am disabled and I am proud. 

This article is sponsored by Lyfebulb.

Lyfebulb is a patient empowerment platform, which centers around improving the lives of those impacted by chronic disease.