The annual Gutsy Walk benefitting Crohn’s and Colitis Canada is this Sunday at McKenzie Trails.
With that in mind, let’s talk about Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD), drugs, mental health and stigma.
As many rdnewsNOW readers may know, I have ulcerative colitis, one of two main forms of IBD.
I first experienced symptoms in 2007 at the age of 18, was diagnosed a year later, and now find myself with a chronic illness and no cure.
But all is not lost, not even during the gut-wrenching times I’ve been convinced of the opposite.
Thankfully, my disease is in remission and has been since early 2016, but that doesn’t preclude someone in my position from having hardships related to the illness. As far as the one in 140 Canadians with IBD are concerned, I’m among the healthier ones. However, I’m still vulnerable to devastating setbacks.
Honestly, I almost didn’t write this because of the stigma and embarrassing nature of some of the elements of my disease. But here we are. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t for pity; this is a story I hope will help at least one person who reads it, and it’s certainly not to compare severity to other diseases.
Last September, I weighed 145 pounds (healthy for me), I’d been in remission for a couple years, was eating well, had a mostly clear head about life overall, and I rarely had to worry about my gut causing me issues.
Driving home from work late one Monday at 10 p.m. along Gaetz Avenue downtown, I suddenly and unexpectedly NEEDED NEEDED NEEDED a washroom (one of the lovely perks of this damned disease).
Let’s just say stuff did – and didn’t – happen. At the end of the experience, I’d been re-traumatized and was fearful to drive anywhere at any time of day. I stopped eating so I could worry less about NEEDING a washroom.
From Oct. 15 to Dec. 15, I dropped from 145 to 132 pounds, I had become anxious, depressed, angry and exhausted. It stunk, and it’s improved, but that incident’s impacts have lasted to this day.
Going back to see the dietitian was the easy part. I knew I had a problem that couldn’t be allowed to linger.
I was then referred to a counsellor at the Primary Care Network (amazing people there, by the way). Over the course of four months, I was given numerous coping mechanisms to deal with my anxiety of driving, which in case you hadn’t picked up, revolved around crapping my pants.
Around the time I began counselling, I was put on an anti-anxiety and anti-depressant drug for the first time. I’ve been on many drugs to aid me in the past, but never anything of that nature, and to be frank, I didn’t want to initially because of the stigma around that type of drug. Perhaps it was just a stigma I perceived. I’m still on that drug today, but hope to start the weaning process soon.
Nonetheless, here I am in a clinic writing while having life-changing Remicade (infliximab) infused into my bloodstream for the 34th time in four years. I weighed myself before getting poked, and I’m back up to 153, which was eye-popping for a guy who’s only ever hit 155 once in his life and that didn’t last long.
While I’ve dealt with the overwhelming (at times) anxiety, and been more angry with my body for letting me down, I’ve been less than a stellar husband, father, co-worker and human. It’s those things that have driven me to do whatever possible to get better, to get back to good, as Matchbox 20 once sang.
In the end, it didn’t matter, and it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks about which drugs you’re on, or what steps you’re taking to heal, as long as you are doing what you need to take care of yourself, and most importantly, your brain.
I’ve learned through this process that the brain controls the gut, and it controls many other things too, needless to say. Thus, when we talk about mental health and mental illness during Mental Health Awareness Month, let us remember it can affect anyone from any walk of life, just like an opioid addiction, cancer, or the death of a loved one.
I want a cure for Crohn’s and colitis, and all the other terrible inflictions of this world. They say the doctors are working on it, but in the meantime, let’s make sure we’re not afraid to work on ourselves.
Click here to support the Red Deer Gutsy Walk.
