A year and a half later: I just found the file where I kept my old colitisblog posts while I was cleaning up my laptop recently. I found myself reading and rereading the entries. I’m really glad I kept this journal – it’s made me remember a lot of what I was going through. And I guess this shows some progress I’ve made: I’m able to look back on things for once. I am no longer in the middle of things. I’m able to get some distance. This is something I thought I’d never be able to do, at least not for a long, long time (I was guessing ten years).

Reading some of the things I went through, I shudder. Did I actually have to do all those things? Did I really I have a bag attached to my stomach? Me? I am a little amazed that I made it through it all. At the time, I wasn’t certain I would.

The mind plays tricks on you. You tend to forget the really bad stuff. You end up remembering the good stuff – was there actually good stuff? You remember the kindness of people (nurses, especially), the new friends you made, the new experiences you had, which you would have never had were you not sick. It’s probably not the best way to experience crazy new things, but it is a way. And I’m certainly not saying that I think my colitis and my surgery were good things. I only wished that I had learned what I learned from them some other, less painful way, a way that would have less permanent affects on my life. But I guess in life you can’t choose how you’re going to learn your lessons. Perhaps that’s also a good thing.

I write this now, in the fall of 2004, nervously doing the final revisions on my dissertation. That’s another thing: without colitis, I probably wouldn’t have finished my dissertation. With colitis, I had to defer law school a year, and so I basically had a year where I was sitting around doing nothing. Why not finish your dissertation? I said to myself. And my advisors, after my illness, became extremely sympathetic. They went to great lengths to help me, because they were aware of what I was going through, and went through.

And now I’m going to law school in less than a month. What will things be like there? I told one of my friends a few months ago that I was really nervous, and even more nervous because I didn’t know what would happen during the stress of my first year of law school. Would my gut start going crazy again? Would I get pouchitis? Would I have to go back to the hospital? I said to my friend that I really didn’t want to be known as the "sick kid" in my class. And he replied to me, "No, you just need to make sure you don’t get stressed out. You won’t be known as the ‘sick kid.’ You’ll be known as the ‘calm kid.’" Sounds like a good goal.

- posted by Chad @ 8:39 AM

 
The second surgery: Well, the second surgery is over with, and I'm recovering well. It's the fifth day after, and it looks like I'll be going home this afternoon. This time was much easier than the last: I just took a shower this morning, and I was able to do it with ease - and I didn't look emaciated and withered like after my last two surgeries. The shower felt good, like an actually shower: not like an attempted shower. So I'm led to reflect, what went right this time?

Well, first, there were no complications (at least not yet!). After my last surgery, I developed blood clots, and that made everything a nightmare - I was in the ICU for several days, etc., etc.

Second I was in better shape this time. I was walking an hour a day which, though not much compared to my running in years past, is much better than what I was doing before my last surgery (basically lying in bed).

Third, my mom stayed with me most of the time, even spending three nights with me in the hospital. I chafed at this sometimes - sometimes I just wanted to be alone. But I've got to face it: nurses don't always come when you need them (adding panic to the original reason you called for them), and in the early days after surgery, just having someone there to adjust the heat, to get you a class of water, is a god-send. So thanks, mom.

Finally, this one was better because it wasn't as bad as my first surgery, which was truly awful.

So it's one down, one to go. I'll probably have the next surgery in January. I guess there was a chance that both surgeries could have been done this time, but I'm glad they weren't. I'm happy to take this slow and steady, even it means having a temporary ileostomy for another three months or so. I think I can make it.

- posted by Chad @ 10:37 AM

 
On friends with ostomies:

One thing that I sometimes forget is that most people with ostomies have them because of cancer, a frequently fatal illness, and not IBD, which is comonly survivable. So its not all that unexpected when I go to UOA meetings that someone has passed away, or never even lived long enough to come to a meeting. Or someone has had a recurrrence of cancer, and is undergoing chemo, radiation or more surgery.

As bad as it was to be young and have to have an ostomy, how much worse to be older (but not all that old) and have to have an ostomy and cancer? I think if I was diagnosed with cancer, I would be completely unable to cope. I think I have used up all my ability to cope with personal illness. I think I can deal with almost anything else, but I don't think I can handle any more of that.

My cat seems better. I am hoping that it was a bad bug, hairballs, or dental floss consumption, and not a ongoing problem. Time will tell.
- posted by Susan @ 1:26 AM

 
Susan - I'm very sorry to hear about your cat. My cat, Cleo, also suffered from IBD (we put her to sleep in January).

I wonder if there's some connection here.
- posted by Chad @ 11:49 AM

 
Pets and colitis. My cat has colitis. Now why would my pet have to suffer? Is it fate that at least one individual in the house has to have an autoimmune disease. If that is what it is. Maybe she ate a bad bug....

Ever notice that when things are going well, you don't have much to say, but when they aren't all sorts of things come to mind.
- posted by Susan @ 6:04 PM

 
The Fan:

I, while living a couple hours from Green Bay, am an avid Packer fan. Not the kind that wears a cheese head, or that has a big bear belly and paint a "G" on it for games....but I do know where most players went to college, most of the players numbers, and quite a bit of history of the team. I also have been following them since they were horrible about 20 years back. As most people know, the Packers are struggling quite a bit this year. It is strange how my mood for the week can be so drastically affected by my favorite football team's outcome. This also goes for my Wisconsin Badgers, Alabama Tide (where I was born), and the Brewers and Bucks. In other words, my mood can be affected YEAR ROUND!

It is quite hard to step back from the situation and realize it is only a game, especially when I get into work on Monday morning and my boss is a Bears fan. I've learned that as long as I am a fan and I keep my mouth shut (when the team is doing well), I have less people to answer to after a bad game.

When I was in my hotel room after my surgeries, my favorite time of the week was watching the Packers on TV. The nurses knew better than to bother me until the game was over. Luckily enough, that was the season they went on and won the Super Bowl.

I did learn that no matter how much I wished or hoped for wins out of my team, I could not control it. On the otherhand, I played a HUGE part in my own recovery. The more I forced myself to eat, the more weight I gained....and the more I worked at getting back on my feet, the sooner I was back in action.
- posted by Rick @ 11:50 AM

 
The Cubs: Tonight I’m trying not to watch the Cubs game – a critical game seven, winner-take-all affair. It’s the most important game of the season (up to this point; and if they lose, it will be their last game). And this season, because of my surgery and being at home with a TV, I’ve been able to watch nearly all the games the Cubs have played. Why am I not watching tonight?

Well, I’ll probably catch the end of the game, in the next half hour or so. But I’m not watching now because I’m too nervous – too afraid they’ll lose, and too afraid they’ll win. If they lose, I’ll be sad, but at least the anxieties of watching them will be over. If they win, it’s another week of worrying whether they’ll win the world series or not.

Noam Chomsky writes somewhere that sports are the modern day bread and circuses – they distract people from real problems, so the powerful can have their way. There’s a lot to take issue with in this assessment, but at times like these you’ve got to wonder. What if the people of Chicago took pride in reducing poverty in their slums, rather than in a winning ball-club? You’ve got to reflect on this frenzy that’s engulfing the second city and really wonder whether we have our priorities straight.

Yet, when you’re in the grip of the frenzy the attention seems warranted. But you’ve got to learn to step back from it. Here I am, two weeks away from a major surgery, and I’m fretting over a baseball game. I sometimes wonder whether my inability to watch sometimes is a reflection of my inability to really love something – to accept it through thick and thin, whether it wins or loses. I can’t handle watching because I can’t handle the contingency of things: how they are unpredictable, and how they fade, and how they disappoint us. I don’t want to watch because I don’t want to regret following the team the whole year, only to have them blow it in the end. I don’t want to take this risk with my affection.

There is some truth to this, but I think the biggest problem is throwing one’s lot in with the Cubs, and having so little control over the outcome. The Cubs will win or the Cubs will lose, regardless of whether I watch or not. It’s not up to me, it’s up to the players on the field. But doesn’t every fan, inside think that his participation may, in fact, make the difference?

Back to my surgery which, weirdly enough, raises similar issues of control. What about my illness can I control, and what can’t I control? What should I accept and what shouldn’t I? These lines are hard to draw. It’s hard to figure out where the disease ends and I start.

- posted by Chad @ 9:12 PM