Coming to Terms with Crohn's

By Simon Stones

“This year marks twelve years since I received my diagnosis, and it is true that time is a great healer.”

Life has a funny way of teaching us many things. It presents us with a number of challenges along the uphill journey, though some people get more than their fair share. As a child, it’s sometimes difficult to understand why you’ve been so unlucky. “What have I done to deserve this?” Having lived with juvenile arthritis from the age of three, I had grown up knowing nothing else but hospitals, treatment and pain – making me feel different than everyone else.

At the age of 12, I began to develop some new bowel-related symptoms, which were largely ignored or overlooked. My mum fought over twelve months to get me referred to a paediatric gastroenterologist, since she knew there was something seriously wrong. I was dealing with excruciating abdominal pain, the embarrassment of having to run out of class to go to the bathroom, and I had a genuine fear of having to use the public toilets in school. Despite the in-depth description of symptoms to my local doctor and hospital specialists, I was repeatedly told that the only thing wrong with me was constipation. Instead of further investigations, I was prescribed laxatives, which only made matters worse.

My mum had repeatedly asked for a colonoscopy and gastroscopy to be done to rule anything out, to little avail. Mum had diverticulitis, a condition characterised by infection or inflammation of pouches that can form in your intestines. Since some of the symptoms were similar, we began to wonder whether I had the same condition. I had been more or less guaranteed that it wouldn’t be Crohn’s disease or ulcerative colitis, since I wasn’t a typical patient – what even is one of those!?

After many more months of fighting for an answer, I finally saw a paediatric gastroenterologist who decided to investigate using a colonoscopy and gastroscopy. Again, he seemed quite certain that it wasn’t ulcerative colitis or Crohn’s disease, given that my weight had been fairly stable, and my inflammatory markers hadn’t changed significantly, bearing in mind they were already elevated – but that was put down to the arthritis. I don’t think the healthcare professionals meant to make me feel this way, but I had begun to question whether it was all in my head. Nobody seemed to believe what I was experiencing, except my mum and dad, which is really hard to deal with. It certainly dented my confidence.

The day for the camera investigations arrived. It was Monday 21st April 2008. I hadn’t packed a bag as the plan was a day case admission for the camera investigations under general anaesthetic. For me, the worst part of the colonoscopy was definitely the bowel preparation you have to take – I feel nauseous just thinking about it! I still struggle getting the stuff down now for follow-up colonoscopies! So, I walked down to theatre, the anaesthetic was injected into my veins and I quickly drifted off. The earliest memories I have after the camera investigations was feeling incredibly sore (presumably where the biopsies had been taken), and I was lay in bed in a side room, with my parents by my side. Very shortly after, I remember the consultant coming into the room, before sitting on the side of the bed.

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You know there’s bad news when somebody looks at you, tilts their head, and then sits down. “Simon, I’m so very sorry…” Before he had chance to finish his sentence, every worst possible thought came rushing into my head. “I never expected to find what I have found – it took us all by surprise.” He then told me that I had Crohn’s disease, and went onto say that as well severe inflammation and ulceration throughout my intestine, my entire oesophagus and stomach was inflamed and ulcerated too. After further descriptions, he finished by saying, “I’m sorry that we didn’t believe you.” After years of suffering, someone had finally listened to me. Despite the diagnosis, I was so relieved. I wasn’t going mad.

That relief, unfortunately, was short-lived. On the night when I was diagnosed, my parents had left briefly to eat. I was in a side-room, shut off from the rest of the world. All of a sudden, a wave of grief came over me, and I burst out crying. The thought –of having this disease for the rest of my life terrified me. Having read about Crohn’s during my fight for a diagnosis, I had read of so many people requiring surgery and ostomies as a result of Crohn’s disease, and this really did frighten me. Sadly, I didn’t know all what I knew now.

“After years of suffering, someone had finally listened to me.”

Treatment began almost immediately, and I had to stop injecting the biological treatment for my arthritis, since it had been ‘masking’ the Crohn’s disease. My doctor also instructed me to start a polymeric diet, which is a special liquid diet consisting of daily nutrient-packed milkshake-like drinks that I would need to take for eight weeks.

Each bottle was 250 ml, and based on my weight at the time, I was told I would need eight of these a day – that’s two litres of the stuff! This was also on the presumption that I would not eat or drink anything else but water for that period. I managed day one, and then struggled trying to get all of these drinks down. I thought it would be a doddle drinking these ‘chocolate and strawberry-flavoured milkshakes’ – but it wasn’t! It became even more tormenting when I returned to school on this polymeric diet, still feeling ill, and watching everyone else eat and go about their daily lives normally. I wasn’t ready to be back at school – physically and mentally, so I went back home and was home tutored for a couple of months.

As time went by, the polymeric diet did its job, and enabled my digestive system to rest. I tried to observe patterns in foods which seemed to make me worse, but other than green salads, vegetables and spicy foods, I couldn’t identify much else. Over the years, Crohn’s disease has just become another part of my life. After diagnosis, I tried to find out as much information as possible, though I didn’t have the opportunity to meet and chat with other young people living with Crohn’s disease or ulcerative colitis, which was a real shame.

This year marks twelve years since I received my diagnosis, and it is true that time is a great healer. I’ve never forgotten, nor will I ever forget, the pain and trials that I have faced because of Crohn’s disease, alongside my other health problems. However, I have learned to live with my conditions, getting on with what I want to achieve in the way I want to do so. Sometimes, it’s not easy, and there are times when it sometimes feels too much, but you do get there. As life has taught me in many ways, it can be incredibly short, and there are so many others who are worse off than me. So, if I can do something, I will, and I’ll do it with all my heart!

Reflections on Being Diagnosed with a Chronic Illness as a Child

By Leah Clark

When I was twelve years old, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. From personal experience, I believe that being diagnosed at a young age can be seen as a blessing and a curse. Of course I am partially biased; I don’t want to go through my life wishing that I had been diagnosed at a later age. There is literally nothing that can be done to change that. With that, let’s start with the bad news about being young and diagnosed with a chronic illness. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what what was going on half the time. I remember feeling healthy, and then all of a sudden, I was feeling awful all the time. I would could home from school exhausted; I barely ate anything because everything made my stomach hurt. It wasn’t like a normal cold with the sniffles and running nose. That I could recognize, but these new painful experiences were different, and I didn’t know what was going on until I finally went to the doctor.

Reflecting now, I realize what else was going on, apart from getting Crohn’s disease. Part of my childhood was taken away from me, and that’s a pretty big statement. A part of my childhood was not lived because I was too sick to live it. While other kids my age were able to go to pizza parties and stay up late at sleepovers, I literally was too exhausted to keep up. Along with Crohn’s, I was also diagnosed with Celiac disease, so I can’t eat gluten anymore. Not only was I that sick pale girl with bathroom problems, I also couldn’t eat half of the diet a normal child eats. No chicken nuggets and pizza rolls. I had to bring my own snacks when it was someone’s birthday at school. This was also a time before the gluten free diet fads exploded the industry, so there were not many options for me that didn’t include basic foods. You never realize how integral food is in American culture until you can’t eat it anymore.

“A part of my childhood was not lived because I was too sick to live it.”

Aside from missing out on those experiences, I also missed out on social and developmental aspects. For example, in my middle school, there were a lot of tall, athletic girls and boys that participated in volleyball, basketball, tennis, track, cross country, so on and so on throughout the year. Sure, middle school sports aren’t really that much in terms of importance, but at that age, sports signified a time to spend two hours with your friends outside of the classroom. I wanted to be part of that. I didn’t want to miss out on what my friends talked about, who they were talking to, all the hot gossip. You know, typical middle school things. However, I was not good at sports, like, at all. While all my other friends were growing up, getting taller and having fun actually being good at sports, I was not. I was malnourished for so long that I skipped that part of purperty. In fact, I’m still the same height that I was in 8th grade, 5’2. Maybe this is why I don’t like participating in sports even to this day. I feel like I don’t “fit in” in the activity, and I sometimes still get angry that I can’t be better at them.

Anyways, the point I’m trying to make is not that I was bad at sports when I was younger, or that I couldn’t eat birthday cake with everyone. The point I’m trying to make is that I was deprived of childhood experiences that I would consider vital in growing up. Some days, I wish that I had a different childhood; I wish I wasn’t diagnosed when I was so young. It brought not only sadness into my life, but a lot of anger, for a long time. I was forced to grow up faster than my classmates. Heck, I understood how healthcare worked at the age of 14. But, it’s frustrating to be a child and not understand why bad things are happening to you for no reason. For awhile, I felt like I was being punished for something. Why do bad things happen to a good people? Am I a bad person? It took so long for me to realize that sometimes, life sucks, and sometimes good people get sick.

The picture on the left is my 6th grade school photo. My face was thin. I hated smiling. I felt like a ghost being trapped in a body I didn’t recognize. The picture on the right was taken this summer, almost ten years after the other. It’s safe to say I don’t feel that way anymore.

That being said, being diagnosed at a young age was also a blessing in disguise because I was an impressionable pre-teen and able to adapt to my new lifestyle of having a chronic illness in the same way I adapted to other major changes in my life (puperty, middle school, etc). I thought of it as, “Well, I guess this is a thing now,” and I just accepted it as my new life. It wasn’t until later when I would look back on my life that I realized I had experienced some pretty tough things. Of course, I didn’t love it at the time. Who would love having to explain to all your classmates why your face looks like an inflated balloon from prednisone? Or why you have to skip school to go to the doctor’s office for infusions every few weeks? I was lucky enough to go into remission fairly quickly after diagnosis, and (most) classmates did not even discuss my disease with me because it wasn’t affecting my day to day life. I have spent almost half of my entire life living with Crohn’s disease. I know tricks to help with flares. I’ve had years of experience in learning what foods affect my body. Yes, it has been a learning process, but as I grow older, I will be gaining more and more knowledge on how to handle my disease. I learn more about myself and what kind of person I want to be everyday. These experiences, though rough, have shaped me into the person I am today.

I was able to adapt to my new lifestyle of having a chronic illness in the same way I adapted to other changes in my life. I thought of it as, “Well, I guess this is a thing now,” and I accepted it as my new life.

The one thing about being diagnosed at a young age that outshines all the rest is the fact that I have met so many wonderful people with the same disease as me. I was diagnosed in the summer of 2009, and that same summer was the year my parents sent me to a summer camp for kids with inflammatory bowel diseases. I was a camper there every year from then on for six years and was fortunate enough to be a counselor for four years after. It was such a joy to meet kids my age that knew exactly what I was dealing with. We were able to share stories, give eachother advice on how to handle our illnesses, and just spend a week being a “normal” camper. I am happy to have been diagnosed at a young age, because I was able to meet other kids that were diagnosed at a young age, too. It’s a special bond. I have made lasting friendships with mnay people, and it has been an amazing journey. I understand not everyone diagnosed at a young age was able to meet people their age with their illness. IBD can be a very isolating disease, but the thing I find to be one of the best things about my illness is the community established from it. A good support system can honestly be the difference in someone’s life that changes how they look at their disease. I know for me, just the fact of knowing there were other kids like me, helped me so much with my when I was younger.

If I could give just one piece of advice to someone with IBD, it would be to establish a support system. If you haven’t met anyone that has IBD, I encourage you to seek them out. Whether that be a club on your college campus, a support group in your town, or even online, meeting other people will similiar experiences with you can be se rewarding. I was fortunate enough to establish these relationships at such a young age, and for that, I am grateful to have been diagnosed with my chronic illness as a child.