Is it really taboo to talk about your health?

If you read this article, you know all about my chronic illness. For those who haven’t, I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis in 1995, just before my 21st birthday. In the 24 years since my diagnosis, I have endured all sorts of fun extraintestinal manifestations and equally as fun conversations with doctors, family, and friends (note the sarcasm).

One that is burned into my memory is when, shortly after my diagnosis, I was sitting in the exam room waiting for my new GI doctor. The door was practically in the waiting room, so when he opened it while simultaneously shouting to me, “HOW’S THE DIARRHEA?!” I was mortified. Looking back, I realize my embarrassment was undue, as most of the people in the waiting room were likely there for some other GI problem. However, I was newly diagnosed, young, and confused, so I felt humiliated. (He probably wasn’t shouting either, but that’s how I remember it. 

“The door was practically in the waiting room, so when he opened it while simultaneously shouting to me, “HOW’S THE DIARRHEA?!” I was mortified.”

While I was learning to live with colitis, I was advised to tell my professors about it in case I needed to make a quick exit from class. Most were understanding, but that didn’t lessen my embarrassment at having to talk about it. 

Telling the boss

I have had a handful of bosses and told each of them about my colitis differently, based on my comfort level or the circumstances.

A few months after my diagnosis, I had grown sicker. I went home from college so my mom could nurse me back to health. I was scheduled to start a new job in my college town but was bedridden. I called my new manager, whom I had met only once for an interview, to tell her about my illness and that I would not make it in for my first day. I made that call several more times that week. It was uncomfortable sharing with a stranger. Still, because I called her daily, it demonstrated loyalty and drive, and she welcomed me to the office with open arms once I felt better. 

“During that week I developed tiny bumps all over my eyelids. That’s what they call an extraintestinal manifestation. ”

During that week I developed tiny bumps all over my eyelids. That’s what they call an extraintestinal manifestation. I rubbed baby shampoo on a Q-Tip and applied it to my eyes to try to keep infection at bay. I also developed a few mouth sores that week. I’m happy to say I haven’t experienced anything like that since. 

I have been fortunate to work at my company for more than 19 years alongside some very understanding co-workers and three different managers. I can’t remember the details or circumstances around telling my first manager, but I do remember sharing some awkward things with her over the years when I couldn’t make it to work or needed special accommodations. When I got very sick in 2014, I sent my next boss an email with links to resources. Within weeks of my current manager's first day on the job, I shared my illness with her because I was flaring and needed to take time off. Having known someone with colitis, she was familiar with the symptoms, so I didn’t need to go into detail about my bodily functions.

One sickly year

2019 may be the year of the pig in Chinese astrology, but it’s the year of strange health incidents for me. Early in the year, I woke up one morning to screaming — my own. My neck had seized up. I was in extreme pain and could not turn my head in either direction. Having never been to a chiropractor, I went to my doctor and was sent for X-rays and a bone density scan. It showed a little arthritis (thanks to my colitis), but nothing to explain my pain. The problem and the pain persisted. I tried massage therapy, acupuncture, and scraping (or Gua Sha). I tried multiple new pillows, using a TENS unit, heat wraps, and stretching. The pain lessened little by little over time, but it wasn’t until I used a back buddy tool and saw a chiropractor that I really started seeing results. Three months later, I was back to normal. Or my neck was at least.

After that first month of neck pain, my colitis flared up. After two months of neck pain, I developed a blood clot in my leg. I believe that the body is an amazing machine and that everything is connected. I am convinced that the month I sat stressed out and in pain before finding a solution caused my colitis flare-up and blood clot. I also joked that as I approached my 45th birthday with all of these symptoms that my body was simply starting to fall apart with age.

With less than 45 days left in the year as I write this — and waking up today to another colitis flare up — I’m wishing I could find a bubble I can hide in until January 1. I’m ready to start a new year in good health.