magic juice – adalimumab adventures

I remembered that I am very nearly due for my next jab, and realised that I’m all out of meds. I’m not very good at maintaining a healthy array of fridgular options, but I can usually be depended upon to have a syringe or two of expensive medication tucked in between a Lush face mask and a block of Gouda on the edge of turning. *** Last time I picked up my Humira, I had the sudden thought that it’s the most expensive thing I ever put in my backpack these days. Two syringes technically cost more than my MacBook Air. … Continue reading magic juice – adalimumab adventures

The Crohn’s Saga (to date)

When I talk to people, I speak freely. I open my mouth, and words come – thoroughly rehearsed, to a point. Every time I tell my mirror about my life, it’s a slightly different rendition of the same song. This is how it goes.

In high school, I was a swot. I went to a posh school, I was a high achiever, I was a musician. I didn’t even think to be rebellious until my last year, and my rebellion was not of the extreme variety. Most of my free periods were taken up with scholarship classes, but swot that I was (am, at heart) I had far too many, and three sessions overlapped.

So on occasion, I would tell art history I was going to French, French I was going to Spanish, and Spanish I was going to art history, and spend the fifty minutes feeling guilty while scribbling rambling poems in my binder instead. I got a second piercing in one lobe. That was my acting out. Continue reading “The Crohn’s Saga (to date)”

curled-up flesh

Pain. Drowning  crinkle-cut curled-up flesh in whitest milk. Obligation lifts the cup, pours it in. No foil-wrapped magic tricks want to have anything to do with it; the capsule sinks below the surface before it can ignite. Flickers as a match might, but with the untiring power of the glowing ember. No end in sight. The worst days were better, because hope was still cradled that the broken parts could be cut away and mended, dead branches and grafts. But the poison is in the tree and eventually there will be nothing left but dried parts broken on the forest floor. All … Continue reading curled-up flesh

world IBD day

It is May 19th – at least in New Zealand, it is. On this day, the following things have happened throughout history Anne Boleyn was beheaded (1536) Nellie Melba, the soprano and namesake of a delicious dessert, was born (1861) Oscar Wilde was released from prison (1897) Pol Pot, leader of the Khmer Rouge and totalitarian dictator of Cambodia, was born (1925) André René Roussimoff, AKA André the Giant, was born (1946) Marilyn Monroe sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to JFK (1962) Tu’i Malila , the world’s oldest known tortoise died at 188 years old (1965) Jodi Picoult, Queen of Depressive Chick Lit, … Continue reading world IBD day

the official countdown begins

Here are some numbers – I’m 23 years old. I’ve been diagnosed with ulcerative colitis for a smidge over two and a half years. I’ve had IBD-type symptoms for 4-5 years. And in 18 days, I’ll be getting a partial colectomy. Yes folks, I’m booked for surgery. September 11th, of all days. I will be heading out to the Manukau Surgery Centre, and I’ll be there for at least 3-4 days. Approximately a third of my large bowel will be removed – though they won’t know for sure until they’re going in, of course – my last scope was in … Continue reading the official countdown begins

how to be the sassiest girl in gastro

always have an interesting pair of socks sticking out from your hospital gown. scope went well enough, results were as expected – thank GOD – if the camera had showed that things were looking great, then i would have flipped out a bit, as i don’t want to be told ‘nah, we ain’t taking that out, it’s FINE’. so now i’m going to be off to chat to surgeons next friday, and hopefully we’ll have a bit more solid info by then. hurrah! Continue reading how to be the sassiest girl in gastro