Diagnosis

Way back in 2008 I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis. I became quite ill before being properly diagnosed. Long-story short, I was initially told it was “stress” and offered anti-depressants. I was not depressed, but I WAS stressed. I was working, had young children, I WAS SICK, and I could not get my doctors (yes, plural) to LISTEN to me. I finally found a doctor who did listen, took my complaints seriously, and ordered tests. Unfortunately, by the time tests were performed, I was so sick I required hospitalization. My condition was diagnosed and ultimately brought under control with various medications. For several years, I did quite well. While I still had ups and downs, the downs were shorter in duration, and I was able to somewhat keep the disease in the background of my life. As I look back, I realize the key word is somewhat. Over the course of the next 10 years, the disease slowly inched its way to the foreground, a few more diagnoses were added and, little by little, I had to downsize my life to accommodate the disease. Old me worked full time, took care of the house, the kids and even had time and ENERGY to weekend kayak, hit the gym, volunteer as a cheerleading coach, girl scout leader, and more while my husband worked 60+ hours a week between day, afternoon and night shifts. The kids grew up and moved on, but my symptoms also grew and, little by little, I could do less and less.