active lifestyle, straight A’s, and a social life. I was a senior in
high school, captain of my tennis team, had just received a full
academic scholarship to The University of South Alabama, and
had plenty of friends. It was this life that I so desperately wanted
to get back to. I had no idea what my diagnosis meant. I had no
idea that having an autoimmune disease meant that my life would
change forever from that point on.
The symptoms I had been experiencing up until that point were
debilitating. I was losing severe amounts of blood, could not
leave the bathroom, could not eat, and began rapidly dropping
weight. My parents were clueless, I was scared, and we all
were kind of frozen in time because of the fact that my entire
healthy life suddenly had a kink in it. I never made it to the state
championships; I remained in the hospital. I was mad at the world. I didn’t understand
why I had been thrown this curveball.
From going to not taking medicines at all to taking drugs every day was mind blowing to
me. I remember asking my doctor how long I would have to be on these medicines. In my
mind, I was already assuming I’d be off of them in…a month? Maybe two? He laughed at
me and scrawled out a little timeline of my life on the back of his notepad. My whole life.
My whole life on these medicines. I didn’t understand.
Steroids brought me back to decent health, but at the beginning
of my first semester in college, I spiraled out of control again. I
dropped classes, lost close to 20 pounds, had to move home,
and became bedridden. I could not put a bite of food in my mouth
without running to the bathroom, and cried out in pain on the
couch when spasms of pain would shoot through my intestines.
The thing I remember most during this time was the depression.
The inability to accept what was happening to me, why it had
come back on me in the worst form of pain I’d ever felt. My social
life was gone. I was chained to my house, to the bathroom. I
refused to go outside. I felt very, very alone. I slowly came out of
this flare, and gradually moved back to my apartment. I entered
that lucky period of remission that I now realize is so rare with
an autoimmune disease. Four symptom free years ?FW"??v?V@?7&?72F?B7FvR?B&V6V?fVB?F?????'WBv?B?v6?( ?@?FV???r????Rv2F?B?7??F??2vW&R&WGW&???rv????f?"???7BF?&VR?V'2gFW"w&GVF?????vV?BW?BF?v?v?F???V?F????BF???VfR?f?'7BgV??F??R??"2?'BF?&V7F?"&V6W6R?6?V?B&&V?vWB?fbF?R&F?&???f???"??F?R??&???r??G&?VBWfW'?F???s?F?WB6??vW2??fW7G??R6??vW2??B?Wp??VF?6??W2???F???rv?&?VB??V?G??b?fRv2v??R???B??7Bg&?V?G2??B?v2???F?R??v?W7B?vW&VB?B??7BF?vW&?W2G&VF?V?B?&V6V?f??r??gW6???2F?&?Vv???`?WfW'?bvVV?2??N( ?2FW'&?&?R??V??W72fVV??rv?V???R?fR??6??G&???fW"??W"?fR?@??P???