It’s been 6,207 days since my life changed forever. On July 23rd, 2005, I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease at age 21. Since that time, I’ve evolved and changed in ways I may not have if it weren’t for my IBD. After living in silence with my condition while working in television news for a decade, I decided to use my love for storytelling and speaking to be the voice I needed to hear upon diagnosis as I navigated the many crossroads of young adulthood (finding love, a fulfilling career, and having a family).
July 23rd also marks the day I launched my blog, Lights, Camera, Crohn’s. Since 2016, I have shared fresh content, every single Monday (sometimes even twice a week!). 336 articles on my site alone. More than a quarter-million visitors and more than 387,000 views.
It’s been a labor of love and a mission project that continues to fill my cup and implore me to constantly want to learn more and shed light on topics that are often not talked about. Every day of every week since my blog began, I’m constantly thinking about story ideas, topics of interest, people to interview, ways to word content, images that are needed…the list goes on.
This photo was taken at a wedding July 23, 2016, right after I pressed “Publish” on the first Lights, Camera, Crohn’s article. I found out I was pregnant two days later.
The weekend I started my blog in 2016, I was one month into married life and found out days later I was pregnant with my first child. Since then, I am now a stay-at-home mom of three children (ages 5, 3, and 1). Life has gotten way more hectic and busier with each year that passes, but I’ve held tightly onto fulfilling my promise to the patient community, and to myself, to deliver new content each and every week. I’ve been organized through the years—often having an article written days before my Monday deadline, but this past year, with another baby added to the mix, it’s been more of a stress on me. I’ve spent many Sunday nights finishing my articles. At times it’s felt like a lot to juggle. I haven’t wanted to let anybody down, including myself. And I haven’t wanted my content to start lacking in any way.
Don’t worry, Lights, Camera, Crohn’s is not going anywhere
My blog has grown into more than I ever thought possible. It’s so rewarding to know my words have helped comfort and guide so many in the IBD community. I need to cut myself some slack and give you a heads up that moving forward there may not always be an article on Mondays. It pains me to say that, but at this point in my life, in this season of IBD motherhood, I need to start taking time to rest and relax. Since having my third baby last summer, I get my kids down for the night and START to work around 830 pm. It’s just constant. I truly rarely get a break. I’ve been in remission since August 2015, and I don’t want the stress to get the best of me.
You may not be aware—but my blog is only one aspect of my advocacy work. I also spend a great deal of time working with digital healthcare companies, patient-centered non-profit organizations, sitting on advisory boards and patient engagement teams, communicating with patients in need online and over the phone, and do freelancing work on the side, all without childcare.
I laugh as I write this because I already have three articles lined up for August…so there will be months where there IS an article every Monday. Just not always. My commitment and desire to serve as a patient leader is not waning in any way—I just want to be honest with you, my loyal readers, that this mama needs to lighten the load and take a little self-imposed stress off my shoulders.
I started contemplating this a few months ago, and almost changed my mind this week about sharing, but it’s time. We had an AMAZING 6-year streak of constant new content. I’m excited to see what this coming year brings in the way of patient stories, research, and perspectives. Having extra time to work on articles will really allow me to do more special reports and expand my “IBD Motherhood Unplugged” and “Patient Experience” series.
Thank you for giving me so much to talk and write about, always. There are endless topics that need to be brought to the forefront and I love providing a platform for others to share their journeys and experiences with the community. As always, please reach out if you have a story idea you want me to cover. Lights, Camera, Crohn’s has truly evolved from being a blog about my IBD experience to an award-winning and well-respected site that has highlighted hundreds of different patient stories and physician perspectives—and I love that. There’s no greater compliment then when I hear a gastroenterologist uses my blog to educate their patients.
Excited to see what 2022-2023 brings! Thanks for the love, support, and understanding and for making the first six years of Lights, Camera, Crohn’s what it was.
Love can be extra complicated to find, trust, and open yourself up to when you have IBD. This week on Lights, Camera, Crohn’s we hear from five different IBD couples (dating and married), but they aren’t your typical couples. In these cases, both partners have IBD.
Emily + Jason
Emily Geist and her husband, Jason, of Pennsylvania had an unusual diagnosis journey. Their children were surprisingly diagnosed before they were! Their oldest daughter was diagnosed with IBD in 2014 when she was four years old. Then a few months later, their middle daughter was diagnosed with IBD at just 21 months old. Through the process, Emily and her husband were asked if they had any family history of IBD and the answer was “no” at the time.
“Their diagnoses made my husband and I rethink the “sensitive stomachs” that we thought we had. We had previously talked with our health care providers, and no one thought of IBD, given our mild symptoms. Since I was pregnant with our third daughter when our second daughter was diagnosed, it took some time for me to see a GI and be diagnosed in 2016 with ulcerative colitis. My husband’s symptoms were more significant, and he ended up getting diagnosed with ulcerative colitis the same year as me.”
Emily says they were in shock after all four of them were diagnosed with IBD within a two-year period, not to mention having a newborn thrown into the mix!
“I joked that my husband and I were perfect for each other – so perfect we both had the same chronic disease and didn’t know it for the first 8 years of our marriage.”
She is grateful in a way for their delayed diagnoses as a couple, since passing along IBD when both partners have Crohn’s disease or ulcerative greatly increases.
“It was a blessing, in a way, that we had our family of three beautiful girls before we even knew we both had IBD. If my husband and I, and the two older girls had been diagnosed before I became pregnant with our third daughter, I am not sure what we would have done. And this thought hurts my heart, knowing the uniquely amazing kid we have in our third. We have watched our youngest so carefully for signs of IBD. Last fall, based on some very minor issues that might have been ignored in any other family, she had scopes and we found out she also has IBD at the age of six.”
Emily says Jason and her approach medical issues differently. He is calm, she’s a bit anxiety ridden. It’s always like that, right?!
“This works in my favor often as he can help calm me down. I lean hard on him during tough times. While we both have IBD, I think much of Jason’s empathy and support come from other health challenges he has faced. Jason was hospitalized as a teen for a (benign) sinus tumor and associated surgery. He also had cancer and underwent surgery and chemo for it. (We were married during his first round of chemo – but that is a whole other story!) He remembers what helped him in both of those situations and uses it to help our daughters and myself.”
Emily and Jason are on two different 5-ASA medications. Jason and two of the girls are on sulfasalazine, one daughter is on Remicade, another on Humira.
“There are two things I tell my girls: (1) Everyone has something…everyone has a challenge they work to overcome…and ours is IBD. (2) It takes intense pressure to create a diamond, we can deal with our ‘pressure’ and use it to become something rare and amazing.”
Amanda + David
Amanda Vogel moved to Colorado Springs in late August 2021. Two weeks after moving there, she started talking to a guy named David through a dating app. It just so happens they lived across the street from one another, so they planned to meet at a restaurant the following day.
“The day we were supposed to meet, he texted me and said he had to cancel our date due to “stomach issues.” I immediately thought to myself, “Hmm, I wonder if he has Crohn’s disease”? I brushed it off, we continued to text back and forth and made plans for that weekend. While we were texting, I made a joke about him canceling on me again and that’s when he told me he had Crohn’s disease. I was mind blown and told him how I have Crohn’s myself. I shared with him my blog post from March 2020 and felt an instant connection. We were both diagnosed with Crohn’s disease at age 13 and both have the same incision on our stomachs.”
Amanda couldn’t believe these incredible coincidences or the odds of their paths crossing.
“It’s mostly an understanding of each other’s dietary preferences, with some gentle encouragement to try things in moderation here and there. Also, a no-explanation-needed approach to random stomach stuff that can pop up anytime.”
While she says there is a “baseline” of empathy and understanding, which is amazing, it’s surprised her how differently IBD presents in each of them.
“The most surprising thing has been being so close to someone else with the same diagnosis but with very different day-to-day and long-term symptoms, medications, and little personal details of the whole patient experience. It’s helped me understand that one of the frustrations of IBD is how differently it can affect people, which can make it difficult for others to really understand. For me, that translates to empathy in the form of knowing Crohn’s can interject itself into our day whether we expect it or not and making sure to accept that without blame or guilt.”
These lovebirds joke about one day doing a “couples colonoscopy.” David is on Humira, and Amanda has an appointment in upcoming weeks with her new GI to discuss treatment plans moving forward.
“Anyone that would treat you like a burden due to a health problem that you’re doing your best to manage is not someone who deserves to be in a relationship with you. There are plenty of loving, understanding people out there, IBD-savvy or otherwise. Love yourself and the rest takes care of itself.”
Anika + Louis
Anika and her boyfriend, Louis, of Virginia, were friends for years before they officially started dating. They were out with friends one night and she mentioned she had ulcerative colitis. He replied that he did, too.
“When we started dating, I was less than a year into my diagnosis and I felt less alone when I found out he had it, too. Before I began my clinical journey to a diagnosis, I had never heard of UC let alone knew anyone under the age of 70 who had it. There are so many things that I assume I would have had to explain to a partner, that I didn’t have to explain to him because he had a similar experience.”
She says as long as they’ve been together neither of them has felt ill on the same day.
“It’s usually clear if one person is sicker than the other, so the less-sick individual takes more of the heavy lifting. I recently had to undergo a colonoscopy and without me asking he took off work so he could drive me to and from my appointment. He religiously read the prep materials the doctor had given me to make sure I took the right medication at the right time and even did all my prep shopping (buying me Jellos and Gatorades so I had prep friendly snacks). I think in general he’s an extremely empathetic person, but the fact that he can also relate is unbelievably nice.”
Both of these lovebirds take four mesalamine pills a day. They tease each other that if they forget their medication they can just borrow from the other person since they’re on the same prescription. She wants everyone with IBD to remember they are not a burden and deserve to be loved like everyone else.
“I don’t think you should ever think of yourself as a burden, and I know that’s a lot easier said than done. I believe that if someone loves you, like fully loves you, they will love you no matter what and be there to support you in anything you have to deal with. If someone shows early on that they are not compassionate or caring or can’t show up for you, then that’s a blessing that you found out early on and not when it’s too late. You deserve someone who loves you for all that you are.”
Brittany + Morgan
Brittany Wheaton and her boyfriend, Morgan, of British Columbia, both didn’t have IBD when their paths first crossed in 2018. Morgan was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis in 2013, but Brittany didn’t have answers for the symptoms she’d been experiencing since 2016. She says her boyfriend tends to be private about sharing about his ulcerative colitis, so he didn’t share his health situation with her until a few months after she had been diagnosed and he was sure they had a future.
“Since I was diagnosed while we were together, Morgan walked through the process with me and figured out the connection when he learned my new GI was his long-term GI! He didn’t grasp the connection between Crohn’s and UC right away as his awareness of his disease comes from his GI and doctor only – I’m more literate and curious about it!”
When it comes to having kids one day, Morgan has zero concerns. He’s confident that the medical supports are increasing every day and is excited about the prospects of new drugs and treatments if they are in the position of becoming parents to a child with IBD.
“He also reminds me regularly that we would be the greatest advocates and supporters to that child. We live in Canada, so we have the reassurance of universal healthcare which is such a privilege. I am more apprehensive about kids, particularly as I spent the past two years in a severe flare that I was worried might end my life. I struggle with the guilt of knowing I could pass these difficult experiences on by no ill-intention of my own. I also worry what pregnancy would be like on my body and have concerns around not being able to sustain a pregnancy due to my difficulties with nutrition. I also acknowledge that choosing to not have a child due to the risk of IBD can fringe on eugenics and is quite ableist.”
Brittany and Morgan often talk about how despite their IBD they have been fortunate to live beautiful, fulfilled lives and have gotten unique lessons and learnings about themselves and each other through their personal limitations.
“We choose to live in an apartment because we’d rather spend our healthy time having fun and relaxing rather than maintaining a stand-alone home; we’ve planned and started saving for retirement and periods off work at 29 and 34 because we know it’s likely inevitable; we have stringent boundaries around stress and taking on too much because the busyness isn’t worth the cost of our health; we have decided to do everything we can do to maximize our rest and fun, and minimize the stress of a too-full life because we know how fragile life really is, and have seen what is really important to us as IBD has taken it away before for periods of time.”
Brittany and Morgan place importance on being independent as patients but are grateful to have each other to understand the language of IBD and take advantage of having a partner who intuitively gets it.
“The day that we decided that we would be together for the long-haul, we committed to always putting our health first. Having a partner who understands that my physical and mental well-being and his physical and mental well-being need be our priority has provided such a rich and earnest connection without shame or guilt. It’s so beautiful to have a partner who encourages me to take care of myself rather than forcing his way in and trying to micromanage it for me. I feel empowered and trusted, and when I’m in a place where I need the external help, he’s always ready and waiting to step in.”
Brittany and Morgan are both on a 4-week cycle of Entyvio and the nurses at the clinic think it’s a hoot! Morgan is also on azathioprine. Since she was diagnosed while knowing Morgan, they both see the same GI.
“It was funny telling our doc because he (and pretty much everyone) suspects we must have met because of our conditions, but we just ignorantly both swiped right and found out the details later! Our general practitioners find it so interesting that we found each other and ask a lot of interpersonal questions about how we pull it off!!”
IBD is a part of who they are, and though Brittany is not thankful for the disease, she’s thankful for the lessons the IBD experience has brought them both. She says the emotional infrastructure of having IBD has made them better matches for each other!
Rebecca + Joey
When Rebecca Goodrich of California first met her husband, Joey, he opened up about having Crohn’s disease early on. At the time, she did not know she also had IBD. He candidly shared about his experiences with medication, flare ups, and traveling with Crohn’s. Rebecca was curious and eager to learn more about his patient journey, and at the time started to think she may be in denial about her own health.
“I knew what IBD was and was honored that he felt comfortable sharing his experiences with me. I was also so impressed with how determined Joey was to care for his body through healthy habits (sleep, hydration, meditation, etc.). When I was diagnosed, he was incredibly supportive—always reminding me through the tough moments that ‘this too shall pass’.”
She went on to say Joey has a way of keeping her grounded when she gets worked up about procedures or an uptick in symptoms. He takes Humira, she takes Lialda and Mesalamine enemas. Her current GI is Joey’s previous doctor.
“My advice for finding love with IBD is to be with someone who loves you for you. There’s no such thing as perfect, we all struggle with something. I am incredibly grateful to be married to someone who truly “gets it,” for my loyal Labrador Sherman-Shell, and for my family who has been there since the beginning.”
I can remember the moment vividly. Leaving a gastroenterologist appointment three months post-surgery and crying walking to get sushi with my husband on a chilly November day in the middle of the workday. When I walked into that clinic appointment, I was hopeful I would never need a biologic medicine again. We were planning to start trying for a family after our June wedding, but my doctor knocked me back to earth and told me my Crohn’s was too aggressive and I’d be setting myself up for disaster if I attempted going med-free.
The tears flowed. I felt like a failure. I worried about bringing babies into this world while on a heavy-duty drug and if my surgery would provide me with the remission I had never achieved the first ten years of having IBD. I was so upset my husband-to-be and I both called into work and took the rest of the day off. Over sushi we talked about our future family and my health. Everything seemed at our fingertips but out of reach at the same time. That was November 2015. Sometimes we don’t realize how far we’ve come unless we look in the rearview mirror.
Now July 2022, we’re gearing up to celebrate our third child’s first birthday (July 14). We had his first birthday party over the weekend. It’s been a surreal and incredible ride since that November day. I often find myself looking at my three children and still feeling surprised my body was able to create them and bring them safely into this world.
Knowing this is our last baby and the last “first” of everything is bittersweet and amazing all at once. I feel an immense sense of relief and comfort being at this stage and knowing I don’t need to count on my body to sustain life through pregnancy or breastfeeding anymore. I’ve made it an entire year exclusively breastfeeding and if you would have asked me if that would ever be possible a year ago, I would have said no way.
One of my fears is when my next flare will be and leaving my children for days on end while I’m in the hospital. While I know it’s a not a matter of if, but when, it puts me at ease that my children are almost out of the baby stage, and I can begin to explain my health struggles and why I may not always be like other moms. When my oldest was born I hoped to stay out of the hospital until he started walking. He starts kindergarten next month. I can only hope I stay flare-free until my other two are that old.
Learning as I went as a woman with IBD
When I think back to that November day and the tough love my GI professed, I’m so grateful I followed her lead and trusted her approach in managing my Crohn’s. Back then, I wasn’t a patient advocate. The only IBD mom I knew was my cousin’s wife. I navigated the waters of family planning and my first pregnancy all alone without much guidance. Each pregnancy I became more well versed on how to juggle IBD and family planning and everything that comes along with it, but I think back to how isolating and overwhelming it can feel when you dream of having a family, but don’t know how to make it happen when chronic illness is in the mix.
No one knows how their family will play out or if fertility or loss will be a part of their story. It’s sad how many women with IBD choose to be voluntary childless, not because they don’t want to be a mom, but because of the limitations of their IBD and overall well-being getting in the way. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t recognize how lucky I am that I “get” to be a mom. Not every day is wonderful, but even in the trenches as a stay-at-home IBD mom of three littles with almost no breaks, I do my best to remind myself of that day my husband and I got sushi and dreamed of living the life we are living today.
Take yourself back to the very first time you needed medical attention for your IBD (but didn’t know it yet). Close your eyes for a moment. Who was that person? Do you know them anymore? How have you changed and transformed since that life changing day?
I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease July 23, 2005, at age 21. I was blindsided by a chronic illness after growing up as a literal picture of health. A three-sport, in shape athlete, who had never even had an ear infection or been to an emergency room. As a recent college graduate, my world flipped upside down as I struggled to find my way in the real world.
Now, 17 years later, I can tell you firsthand what I, you, and so many others have endured on our patient journeys and how each experience (even the mundane) serves as monumental touchpoints for gaining independence and confidence in making you a more empowered and direct patient.
Let me paint the picture clearly for you
The first time you bravely laid in an emergency room bed and every time there after—not knowing the tests, pokes and probs, and physical scrutiny you were about to go through.
How it feels to be wheeled by a stranger through stark hallways to CT scans, MREs, and scopes, wondering what the results will be on the other side and the repercussions for more medications, a longer hospital stay, or surgery.
The difference a couple months makes–pre-diagnosis in May 2005 and 2 months after 60 mg of prednisone a dayand 22 pills a day.
What it’s like when you say goodbye to loved ones and they roll you into the OR and you’re shaking like a leaf, all alone and feeling frail and broken, alone with your thoughts and prayers.
The number of moments you’ve watched nurses and even rapid response nurses fumble with IV’s try after IV try and when it’s been more than five, you find your voice from that point forward and start only giving medical professionals two tries before it’s on to the next.
How it feels at the butt crack of dawn when the world is sleeping and the hospital is bustling, waking you abruptly to get more vitals and more labs and you lay alone, haggard, frustrated, and delirious.
The moment when your GI has a heart to heart with you about starting a biologic and having to determine for yourself what route is your preference—infusion or self-injection. Would you rather sit for hours hooked up to an IV drip or sit on your couch with your kids looking on as you inflict pain on yourself.
The times you’ve sat up in the middle of the night wide awake thanks to the prednisone kicking in while the rest of your world is asleep wondering if you’ll ever regain some semblance of control of life.
What it’s like trying to eat meals inconspicuously with your family while they not so subtly watch each bite and every trip to the bathroom with sadness and worry in their eyes.
How it felt driving to a first date or a job interview and feeling like your IBD is a dark secret looming over the conversation and not knowing when to take down your walls and share.
Listening to your friends make comments about health and energy without considering what your experience with a chronic, debilitating illness may be like since you look well on the outside.
What it feels like to look at your reflection in the hospital bathroom. Battered arms, sunken in eyes, a shell of who you used to be. But as soon as you walk out of the door, putting a soft smile on to protect your visitors from worry.
What it’s like to sit on an airplane or be on a road trip with others and silently worrying about whether you’ll be able to make it and what your game plan will be.
When you’re up in the middle of the night doing the second half of colonoscopy prep and wondering ‘why me’ in your 20s and 30s, feeling isolated in the physical, mental, and emotional anguish the process puts you through year after year.
What you’ve internalized each time someone dumbs down your IBD, offers up ridiculous remedies or goes into a discourse about their aunt’s brother’s cousin who “healed” their Crohn’s this way.
When you’ve waved the white flag and alerted family and friends that you needed help or to be seen in the hospital after doing as much fighting as you could against your own body.
The first time you bravely looked down at your incision and saw your body forever changed and came to see your scars as battle wounds.
Waking up each day not knowing what the next 10 minutes will feel like for you and getting after it anyway.
Not knowing if you’ll find your person, but meeting people and having the courage to share about your health issues, even if there are heartbreaks and disappointments along the way.
Deciding to have a baby and discussing family planning, despite all the what ifs and becoming a parent because that’s what you hoped for prior to your IBD.
Landing that dream job with your IBD in your back pocket, not letting the detours stop you from finding the path you were meant to go on.
Celebrate the independence you’ve discovered
The list goes on and on! No matter how old you are when diagnosed with IBD, in that moment we are robbed of our naivety and thoughts of invincibility, and we’re forced to go on a lifelong war and conquest. Our bodies no longer feel like ours. Our dreams feel in disarray. Our people may change and not be who you thought they were. Our hearts may break, but like a phoenix this disease can build you up just as much as it breaks you down.
The reprieve of remission, while not perfect or without symptoms has enabled me to breathe and regain my grounding. In 2015, after three back-to-back bowel obstructions and 18 inches of my small intestine, Meckel’s diverticulum, and appendix removed, there was only one way to go and that was up.
Give yourself grace. Celebrate the independence you’ve discovered that you may not be able to have realized until you’re years out like it took me. And when you’re in the hospital, in for a routine clinic visit or for labs, taking your meds and balancing every daily decision against how it will make your IBD feel, you’ll come to realize what you take on and all you accomplish every day just to survive and thrive, makes you something special. While you may feel dependent on others—and the support of caretakers and a support system can’t be understated, neither can the endless strength that lies within you.
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