All it takes is one experience to alter how you respond and react to the way you receive medical care. For me, it was July 2008. I was getting admitted for an abscess the size of a tennis ball in my small intestine. No one could start my IV. I was in excruciating pain. It took eight tries to get an IV going. EIGHT tries. It was so emotional…and aggravating. It took two nurses, a rapid response nurse, and finally an anesthesiologist to get the job done. For many in the IBD community, we have medical PTSD. A term not to be taken lightly. It’s moments like the one I mentioned before that have scarred me in a way that impacts every single IV I receive. I get anxious, my mind reverts to the past trauma, and I don’t trust that the person taking care of me will be able to get me in one stick.
While this may not be fair to the medical professional, in my 15-plus years with Crohn’s, I can attest to the fact that no matter how many times you say, “you have bad veins” or that you’re a “tough stick”, you’re typically told “it will be fine” and that they “hear that all the time.”
This week—I offer up some tips for communicating your needs when getting blood draws and IVs. Sometimes it can be overwhelming when you feel as though your fears or worries are being downplayed. You may not want to be “that patient”—the one who speaks up and demands the care they deserve but are scared to ask for. This also goes for parents who are watching as their child may be stuck over and over and over again, and not knowing when the right time is to speak up and say something.
Ask for a butterfly needle for blood draws. As soon as you sit down to get your blood drawn, casually say you have tiny veins, and a butterfly works best. If the phlebotomist says you don’t need one (yes this happens)—say you have IBD and get blood draws all the time and know what works best for you, especially considering the number of vials that are generally taken in one sitting.
Give each person two tries. Once I experienced eight tries for an IV, I instituted this rule for my care from that point forward. I usually tell the nurse/phlebotomist nicely at the start that I give each person two tries, and after that someone else must try me. If they successfully give me an IV in one try, I make sure to give them kudos and thank them.
Know your spots. If you have bad veins like me, you know where your “good vein” is. If the antecubital is not working, go for one in your hand. If it’s an IV, try and do your non-dominant hand, as the placement can be challenging if it’s in for multiple days.
Ask the medical professional to break out the vein finder. This can save everyone (not just the patient) some time and energy. This has worked wonders on me in the past to help healthcare professionals locate and access which vein is best to go for. It’s completely painless. It’s like x-ray vision that shines light under your skin and shows the veins below.
Take advantage of numbing cream for pediatric patients (adults can also ask!) While the cream can be great for taking away the sting of the needle, it’s important to keep in mind it can take 30 minutes to activate (which feels like an eternity while mid-flare) and can also make the patient more anxious as they wait. The medicine is also known to shrink the vein underneath as well, which can make getting the IV started a little more challenging. You may consider putting a lidocaine cream on at home before you head to the hospital if you have some available.
Be hydrated and warm. If you anticipate the need for an IV, try and drink as much water as you can ahead of time. Have a heating pad or warm pack placed on your veins. Even putting the warmed-up hospital blankets around your arm prior to the stick can help get you prepped.
Breathe deeply. Try not to watch the needle going in. Focus on a focal point on the wall or go to your happy place to distract yourself from the initial prick of the needle.
The most important thing of all is to be your own best advocate. Don’t worry about hurting feelings or coming off as high maintenance. Offer up as much intel you can in a constructive and calm way as possible. Once you’re diagnosed with IBD and experience the hospitalizations, scopes, surgeries, scans, and lab work, you become a “professional” at being a patient and knowing your body. Unless you use your voice and communicate your needs, they may not be met. Rather than thinking of those caring for you as instilling pain or as the adversary, it’s in our best interest to work together as a team with our physicians and nurses so they can provide the best possible care and so we can build a long-lasting relationship based on trust, rather than fear.
For parents, try and stay as calm as possible and allow the medical professionals to work their magic in distracting your child and making them feel safe and at ease. Your stress level and energy (both positive and negative) will reflect onto your child. If you feel your child is being given the best possible care, try and go with the flow as much as possible. You’ll know when and if you need to speak up. Know that your child is watching. Be tactful, confident, kind, and direct if you believe something different needs to be done or tried. You are your child’s voice piece.
Through the years, whether it’s in the ER or getting a blood draw, the moment I say “I have Crohn’s disease” it’s like I just dropped major street cred. Medical professionals know when you have IBD you have to be tough as nails, you don’t have any other choice. So, when you say that—be confident that when you offer up advice pertaining to IVs and blood draws you have that going for you.
When you have IBD, the path to motherhood can look different for many. There is added stress about whether your body can create and sustain a new life successfully. There’s worries about flare ups and medications and how to stay well-managed while keeping the health of your unborn child in mind…just to name a few. For 30-year-old, Audrey Bolton, of North Carolina, adoption had been a calling in her life since high school when she stood at the airport and watched a family friend bring home their daughter from Guatemala.
She knew from that day forward, she would adopt one day. What she didn’t know is that she would be diagnosed with Crohn’s disease 10 months after getting married and struggle to conceive. This week on Lights, Camera, Crohn’s, Audrey shares her journey of becoming an IBD mom through adoption and what she wants others to know about the process.
NH: Many women with IBD fear their bodies are incapable of carrying a child/or are told they aren’t well enough. What would you like to say to them?
AB: “I would tell them that every journey to parenthood looks different, but at the end of the day, we are all moms. I think it depends on everyone’s situation and it’s a conversation they need to have with their doctor(s) and their spouse. For me, I was sick at the time my husband Crawford and I wanted to have a baby. I was not sick enough to where I wouldn’t be able to parent, but I do not think my body at that time could have been healthy enough to carry a child without problems. With that said, I’m nearing remission so I do still hope that one day we can have a biological child. If a person wants to be a mom, I fully believe that there are many different avenues a person can take to be a mother.”
NH: What are some of the struggles/challenges about adoptions that you wish other families knew?
AB: “Adoption comes from a place of brokenness, so while it is so beautiful that our son Camden made me a mother, it is not lost on me that his birth mother made a huge sacrifice that left a piece of her heart missing. It can be beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time.”
NH: Was the fact you had IBD ever an issue with adoption agencies?
AB: “Not at all! I love this question because I wasn’t sure what to expect when we started the process back in 2017. For all adoptions, you must complete a home study which includes health questionnaires, a physical, and several meetings with a social worker. In those meetings, we talked about my Crohn’s disease and how I was working with my doctor to treat it. If a person is well enough to parent and take care of a child, there are not any issues with having IBD and being eligible for adoption.”
NH: What are your tips for navigating the adoption journey with a partner/spouse?
AB: I could write a book on this one, but the truth is, Crawford has been my rock. He had no idea when he married me that I would be facing a chronic disease that would land me in the hospital multiple times a year for days on end. He has truly stuck by his vows “in sickness and in health.” I think the best tip I have for navigating Crohn’s with a partner/spouse is to communicate. Crawford knows when I’m not feeling well, the best thing for me is to rest and he makes it happen. He also is my voice of reason and tells me if I’m doing too much or if I need to say no to some obligations so that I can properly rest. Communication is key!
NH: What was it like when you first met your son Camden?
AB: “I always envisioned the moment we laid eyes on our son to be beautiful and the best moment of my life. When we arrived at the hospital, we had not slept in 24 hours and had driven straight through the night. We thought we would be meeting our son, but we were told he was being transferred to a Children’s hospital for further testing on his heart. He was hooked up to all kinds of wires and it was one of the scariest moments of my life. We only got to see him for about an hour before the ambulance came and took him to the Children’s hospital. It was whirlwind of a day, but God saw us through it and the next day, he passed all of his tests with flying colors and I was able to bond with my baby for the first time and have my “beautiful moment.”
NH: What’s been the most magical aspect of being an adoptive parent?
AB: “Most days, I forget that Camden is adopted. He looks just like Crawford and he’s been with us from his second day of life, so he belongs with us. Every now and then, I will have a moment and remember that he has another mom somewhere out in the world. I always say that she is my hero because she chose life for her baby boy and I would say that has been the most magical part for me. Knowing that I owe everything to a woman that I have never met. I pray that she has peace in knowing how loved he is on a daily basis.”
NH: If someone is on the fence about adoption–what would you tell them?
AB: “Pray, pray, and pray some more. If it is God’s will, he will give you that peace. I receive messages every day asking how the process works and people are scared about the cost. If it’s meant to be, don’t let the cost stop you! There are so many ways that it CAN be done.”
NH: You recently announced you’ll be adopting baby number two in 2021, you must be so excited! Did that process differ at all from Camden’s?
AB: “We are extremely excited. So far, it is the exact same because we are going through the same agency. I’m sure there will be some bumps along the way, but we are so excited to bring home baby #2.”
NH: How has already being an adoptive parent helped you through the experience this time around?
AB: “I know what to expect this time, so I am better prepared for the timeline and the traveling that is involved. With that said, our adoption with Camden was extremely quick. I was at work one minute, waiting for the phone call to meet a birth mom and the next I’m told that there is a baby waiting for us to come get him. There was no time to think or for anything to really go wrong. That makes me a little more nervous this time, as I know that it doesn’t normally happen that fast. I’m just praying that everything happens the way it should in the Lord’s timing.”
NH: How has faith played a role in how you navigate your IBD and motherhood?
AB: “I would be lying if I said I never questioned why God would allow a 25-year-old newlywed to be diagnosed with a chronic disease with no cure. It has been a tough journey, but I think God has shown me a glimpse of how strong I can be in tough situations and it ultimately prepared me to be a mother. Not long after we brought Camden home, I had a full circle moment one night while rocking him to sleep. I realized that Camden would not be in my life if it had not been for all the trials I faced with my health and months and years of seeing only one line on a pregnancy stick. While the journey was really difficult in the moment, it is the privilege of a lifetime to know God handpicked me to be Camden’s mother and that He was with me through all of the really low times.”
Ted Fleming of Calgarygave up alcohol more than a decade ago to keep his IBD symptoms and disease activity under control. He was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease in 2005, at age 25. Ted says he not only missed the taste of beer, but discovering new beers. Even more than that, he found he missed the social connection that comes with sharing a drink with a colleague after a hard day’s work, cracking a beer with the guys after hockey, and joining in to celebrate special occasions.
A friend suggested he try non-alcoholic beer. Ted says the problem is most tasted awful and there was almost nothing on the market in terms of variety. It was at that point Ted decided to launch Partake Brewing. His hope—to bring all things that make craft beer great to non-alcoholic beer drinkers including taste, variety, authenticity, creativity, and passion. Now 42, Ted, is a shining example of someone whose career path evolved because of and was inspired by his IBD.
I was intrigued by his patient journey and how he got to where he is today. Here’s his Lights, Camera, Crohn’s interview:
NH:How has your patient journey with Crohn’s disease the last 15-plus years helped you create a successful business?
TF: “The discipline around my own personal health has helped me as a business owner to set priorities and largely keep to those priorities. There are many distractions and potential paths to go down as an early stage business so planning and having the discipline to stick to the plan over the long-haul are critically important.”
NH:How do you manage your IBD (medication/lifestyle wise)?
TF: “Regular exercise, medication (Humira), dietary changes (limited red meat, no uncooked veggies, no alcohol), get enough sleep, and be social.”
NH:What advice do you have for those who are worried about finding a career path they’re passionate about while juggling their IBD?
TF: “I am fortunate to have had some long periods of remission, but early on I struggled and that impacted my journey to find a career that was rewarding in ways important to me. Being willing to try new things is a good way to test interests, but with IBD, we don’t always feel up to it… so knowing when to say no and being ok with that is a necessary skill that takes practice.”
NH: How do you navigate the stress associated with running a business and managing your Crohn’s?
TF: “Managing stress has been an important part of my journey and I find that when I do start to have trouble with my Crohn’s, stress is usually one of the triggers. We each manage stress differently so finding what works best for you is important and integrating regular stress relief and stress avoidance into your daily routine can pay huge dividends. Besides avoiding alcohol, I have adopted better sleeping habits, exercise regularly, plan to socialize directly with people, and largely refrain from using social media.”
NH: What type of feedback have you received from customers? Any IBD folks reach out and thank you for creating this?
TF: “We are so lucky to have some of the best fans in the world, our consumers are incredibly passionate about our beer and our mission. We get emails regularly from consumers from all walks of life who are grateful to have the opportunity to enjoy a great beer no matter what their reason for partaking. The IBD community has really rallied around us and I am incredibly grateful and humbled by their outpouring of support. It was this feedback, particularly in the early stages of the business, that helped us push through the inevitable challenges of running a startup and to this day gives us a powerful purpose.”
NH: What sets your non-alcoholic beer apart from the rest?
TF: “Partake Brewing’s beer is crafted with international award-winning recipes, is incredibly delicious, and is only 10-30 calories per can. Our beer is also brewed with four simple ingredients but is packed full of flavor. When I started Partake Brewing, I wanted to not only brew a great beer but I also wanted to bring a variety of great beers to the non-alcoholic market so anyone can Partake on their own terms.”
NH:How/where can people get their hands on Partake?
TF: “You can find Partake Brewing on shelves across Canada and the USA, but you can also have it delivered straight to your door from DrinkPartake.com. In Canada, you can find us at major retailers such as Safeway/Sobeys, Loblaws, Atlantic Superstore, Great Canadian Superstore, and the LCBO as well as many others. In the US, we are sold at Total Wine & More and select Whole Foods.”
I remember the first time I put glasses on in fourth grade and no longer saw the world unclearly. I can still recall the first time I wore contacts sophomore year of high school and experienced how crisp life is supposed to look. Prior to glasses and corrective lenses, I thought my vision was how everyone else saw. I recently came across a discussion on Twitter by Jessica Caron (ChronicallyJess) about how you would describe your IBD journey at the beginning—in one word. One woman, Emily Morgan (@EmMorgan27) replied with the word blurry.
That response got me thinking. It’s spot on for so many reasons. Take yourself back in time to the first week you were diagnosed with Crohn’s or ulcerative colitis and the clarity you’ve gained and continue to gain with each year that passes.
When I was diagnosed with Crohn’s in July 2005 at age 21, I remember sitting almost stoically in my hospital bed because I was so overwhelmed by not only what the next day or week would bring, but the next hour. All my plans, all my goals, all my dreams that were once crystal clear became incredibly hazy. The thought of thinking beyond that moment almost made me feel dizzy with dread.
What does this new world of chronic illness look like?
What would be possible with IBD? Who am I now? How has my identity shifted? Where do I go from here? What will my friends think? What will future employers think? What’s it like to be on medication for the rest of my life? Will anyone ever love me? The list goes on. The vision that I had the first 21 years of my life was forever tainted.
But as the years rolled by, I came to realize the rose-colored glasses I wore prior to diagnosis didn’t give me that clear of a reality about not only my own life, but those around me. Prior to Crohn’s I just expected everything to go my way. Prior to Crohn’s I felt invincible. Prior to Crohn’s I didn’t think twice about my health and what a gift it was.
Now life is anything but blurry
Looking back over the past 15 years, my vision of life with Crohn’s is anything but blurry. As I grew older and more mature, this disease of mine made me see the world clearer than I had ever before. The darkest days have led me to the brightest, shining moments. Nothing is taken for granted. Nothing is expected, but rather overly appreciated. This disease forced me to see the strength inside myself and the resilience that I never knew existed. This disease has demanded a lot out of me and still does, but it’s enabled me to discover a newfound gratitude for life’s simplicities and provided me with superhero strength vision of who is genuinely in my life, and who is not.
It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even know if I would have been the same adult if I never got Crohn’s. My IBD is not my identity, it’s only a part of who I am. Now I credit not only my contacts, but my Crohn’s, for improving my vision.
For anyone with chronic illness, it’s safe to say living with a disease gives you perspective. Your patient experience and journey shapes you in ways you may never have imagined, until you’ve lived it—persevered—and can look back at all you’ve overcome to get to where you are today. In Part 4 (the final installment) of “So, You Have An Ostomy,” we dig deep into what ostomates wish they knew that they know now, how best family members and friends can offer support, and why some choose to show their ostomy and others do not.
What Ostomates Would Tell Themselves If They Could Go Back in Time
Brian Greenberg wants anyone who is contemplating getting an ostomy to know that life doesn’t end after surgery, it begins again. He says after being sick and thinking an ostomy would be worse, it gave him his life back. He went from being in bed and alone to being an Ironman and marrying the love of his life.
“There are a lot of ostomates out there and none of us are recreating the wheel. If you have a fear or question, chances are there is someone who already has created a solution. I went from being bedridden to completing a full 140.6-mile Ironman, which showed me anything is possible. My ostomy has allowed me to not only live a normal life, but a good life.”
Ashley Clark says she used to be scared to leave the house. Her ostomy has given her freedom that she never had before.
“Prior to my ostomy, I didn’t want to make new friends or spend time with people I wasn’t comfortable around, I had no energy and I felt like I was trapped inside this body that couldn’t do all the things my brain wanted to do. Since my ostomy, I feel like I’ve gotten myself back in a lot of ways. I make plans again and I travel and spend time with people I love. I don’t take life for granted.”
When Michel Johnson thinks about when he had an ostomy, he says it not only saved his life, but taught him to reframe the tough times. He believes he became a better person in many ways and that his level of gratitude and compassion for others grew exponentially. He’ll always remember when he had his first bag leak in public the first time he left the house after surgery.
“I was in at a grocery store and struggling to change my bag in the restroom. I got poop on my shirt. I was embarrassed. A lady noticed the supplies in my hand and the mess on my shirt when I went into the restroom. She told me she was a nurse. She had a store employee block the bathroom door and she came in to help me, even gave me her blouse to wear (she had a tank top on under her blouse). I cried and hugged her so tight. Couldn’t believe she was so sweet to me in my time of need. It’s moments like that, which change a person.”
Alison Rothbaum credits her ostomy for allowing her to be alive. She says she wouldn’t have made it beyond age 23 if she didn’t have her colectomy. Since surgery, she’s been able to travel, work, and actively participate in the lives of her nieces and nephews. She advises ostomates to cut themselves some slack and acknowledge how far you’ve come every step of the way.
“You’re learning a new lifestyle of personal care externally and recovering internally. There’ll be days you are so upset, and then there’s days you only remember you have an ostomy when you go to the bathroom. This new life may have not been what you had in mind years ago, it may not be ideal, but it’ll be ok.”
Gaylyn Henderson created Gutless and Glamorous, a non-profit organization, as a way to empower and uplift those living with chronic illness and to raise awareness and erase the misconceptions of living with an ostomy. She doesn’t want others to suffer because of the fear of being stigmatized; it’s her goal to eradicate the stigma.
“Through it all I have learned to remain constant in my beliefs and that is to not let the beliefs of others control how I view myself. I’ve learned the importance of loving myself and staying true to myself and knowing I am capable of overcoming anything. I’ve learned that one of life’s most rewarding challenges is to accept yourself for who you are and all that you are completely and consistently. I am so in love with my new body; my new body saved my life in more ways than one.”
Loved One or Friend an Ostomate? Here’s how you can offer support
Listen. Listen. And listen some more. And be there. You don’t have to know what to say, you don’t need to have the right words or give advice. Let your loved one or friend know they are not alone and don’t pretend to understand what your loved one is going through, because you simply can’t relate (unless you’re an ostomate yourself)! Ostomates say when they complain or having a hard day, they just want to be heard and believed.
Karin Thum says to find your tribe and love them hard, “It may be a friend, or maybe a family member. Someone who doesn’t have Crohn’s or ulcerative colitis may not fully understand. But the right support won’t try to understand. They’ll just want to be there for you. Let them. It’s hard for those closest to us who love us to watch us go through what we do.”
IBD mom and ostomate, Byrd Vihlen, recommends loved ones to ask questions and take the time to learn more about ostomies, the disease, and what this means going forward.
“This surgery is NOT A CURE. Knowing that you care enough to want to be educated means the world. I would also advise that going into surgery, the recovery could be very different than what is described by the doctors, prepare for that emotionally so you can better support your family/friend…and not put any extra unnecessary stress on them during a fragile time. Empathy goes a long way.”
Speaking of empathy, Tina Aswani Omprakash recalls how one of her friends once insisted on watching her change her ostomy bag. As first, Tina says she was freaking out saying no. But now, when she looks back, she realizes that was one of the most supportive experiences.
“She asked questions as I went along and was curious to understand how it worked and why people felt such a stigma around it. It made me feel like a human being and that someone actually cared and wanted to learn and support me. I’d say if you’re close family, be there when the ostomy nurse is teaching how to change the bag. Oftentimes, we are in such a rut and on painkillers that we have no idea what’s going on. Support us, ask questions, be there and take notes. It can only help.”
Kristina Schook, 24, of New York, was diagnosed with Crohn’s when she was eight. She needed an ostomy when she was in high school and says the entire experience was insanely hard on her. Her bag would constantly leak, and it messed with her self-confidence. She says she had to alter what sports she played because of the leakage, but is thankful she was never judged by her peers. When it comes to advice for family and friends, Kristina says, “Just let us rant if we are upset. Don’t tell us you understand because our intestine is literally out of our body. It’s extremely hard to deal with mentally. For me, reversal was a great option and I don’t regret it.”
Jordan Ditty says patience is key.
“This is a big change. There will be a lot of emotions around it whether it was planned and wanted, unexpected, or they were dreading it. Offer to sit with them while they change their bag, watch a movie together, bring them coffee, listen to their frustrations, hold them when they cry, they need your support. While at the same time don’t treat them any different, this ostomy did not change who they are as an individual.”
Lindsay Dickerson says if you care about someone with a digestive disability and ostomy, recognize the mental toll their patient experience can cause.
“We are shuffled from specialist to specialist, appointment to appointment. There are days we can’t function and (personally) I feel worthless as a friend, wife, mother, and person. Educate yourself on your loved one’s condition. Support them when they feel down. Help them understand it’s not their fault, even though we will feel like it is at times. On the days they need that extra help – give it to them. There are days we can’t do it all and need this help, it’s a lifetime condition. Empathy and love are what we need and the more you give of it the better.”
Showing Your Ostomy Bag to Others
Whether or not you choose to show your ostomy bag publicly is a very personal decision. Some people feel empowered by it, others prefer to be more discreet. You do you, boo boo.
Natasha Weinstein says sharing her ostomy with the world is so much fun. When she first got her ostomy, she would put duct tape all over the bag, thinking it would make it more “socially acceptable” for people to see. Then, she realized a few things.
“Number one—duct tape is uncomfortable. Number two—I was going through a lot of bags and duct just to go swimming, which made the bags heavy! Number three—the bags are already skin colored so what was I doing?! Once I got rid of the duct tape, everything got easier and all I had to do was choose my bathing suit of the day. Now it’s become routine to take a post-race photo with Ziggy out wearing my medal because we’re accomplishing and conquering life together.”
Tionna Forchion says being transparent about her life with an ostomy has been extremely fulfilling.
“I hid my bag from family and friends for many years and now I openly post pictures on social media showing my ostomy and it feels so empowering to show the love I have for myself in my entirety, and that includes my ostomy bag. It’s rewarding when other warriors on social media write me messages saying that me posting pics showing my bag has helped them embrace and love themselves flaws and all. That’s really why I do it, to inspire others to love everything about themselves and so other ostomates know they are not alone.”
Sahara Fleetwood-Beresford shares her ostomy with world so that people can see that it’s ok not to be like everyone else. She doesn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed and doesn’t think of her bag as an issue. “It is what it is—it’s part of me. The same as my moles, scars, stretch marks, etc.”
Speaking of scars (or battle wounds as I like to call them), Lindsay says, “I love showing off my ostomy. I’ve had 14 surgeries in my lifetime at this point and the ostomy is a symbol of everything I’ve overcome and how I’ve taken the steps to improve my life for the better. All bodies come in different shapes, sizes, and abilities. I feel confident with my ostomy out and welcome anyone who has questions about it!
Payge Duerre says showing her ostomy doesn’t phase her anymore. She says it doesn’t make her feel empowered, either.
“I post for others. I show for others. I show and post because I’m 110% okay if I get hate or negative comments. I might cry if there are mean people, but I truly post and show my ostomy because I’m confident about it and hope to support others by doing so. My ostomy has completely changed my life for the better. There is no possible way I’d be this healthy version of me with my colon. I no longer shit my pants, I can travel more than five minutes away from the bathroom, I’m not missing every other day of work/school/events because of pain so immense I can’t get off the couch. I don’t have to spend an entire day every four weeks getting my infusions.”
Tina and many others I interviewed, choose not to show their ostomy or their stoma. But each ostomate said they respect the many people who do.
“I don’t feel that I need to show it to talk about it or to empower others. Culturally speaking, I think for me, it’s better left to the imagination. I do show what a stoma bag looks like and show different activities you can do with an ostomy but I think this is an individual’s choice to show or not to show and still feel empowered.”
When Life Comes Full Circle
Over the course of the past few weeks, I’ve had the privilege of connecting with more than 20 ostomates around the world who have candidly and whole-heartedly shared about their personal experience. As someone with Crohn’s who does not have an ostomy, I consider your ostomy a symbol of strength and survival. What each ostomate endures prior to surgery, through recovery, and in life, takes patience and perseverance. It takes strength from within. A strength I can’t even begin to fathom. Ostomies are a visible reminder of the often invisible battles those with IBD and other digestive diseases face while having chronic illness. It’s normal to grieve and be devastated. From what I’ve learned through these warriors, the best way to view life with an ostomy is to think of all the positive it will bring to your life and how it will improve your health and condition. Shifting your perspective and thinking of your ostomy as a gift rather than a curse seems to be the best medicine of all. Thank you for following along through this series. I hope you feel better educated about life with an ostomy and have learned something, I know I did!
Celebrating Ostomy Awareness Day (October 3rd, 2020)
This year marks the 10th Anniversary of National Ostomy Day. This day serves as an opportunity to spread awareness about ostomy surgery.
Twitter Chat (#ddhchat): Diet and Digestive Health Chat about Nutrition for the Ileostomy hosted by ostomate Tina Aswani Omprakash and Neha D. Shah, MPH, RD, CNSC, CHES Friday October 2 at 12 p.m. EDT.
Biologic drugs have the ability to give many of us in the IBD community a chance to live a much fuller, and well-rounded life. But there are trade-offs, especially when it comes to our immunity and the ability to fight off infections. As a mom of a 2-year-old and 6-month-old whose been on Humira for more than 11 years, I’m extremely cognizant of protecting my kids from sickness to not only protect them, but myself. I often feel as though people may think I’m over the top with worrying about illness in my household, but quite honestly, unless you or someone you love is immune compromised, it can be a difficult concept to grasp.
This week–a special feature from a Maryland elementary school teacher with indeterminate colitis. Meet Lisa Lacritz. She’s a 38-year-old wife and mom who juggles two autoimmune diseases. She also has Hashimoto’s disease. Since she started on Remicade in 2018 following her IBD diagnosis, she’s experienced the difficulty of warding off illness while being an elementary school teacher and a mom to a young child.
“Shoes off, hands washed!” My son knows the routine by heart. Every time we come into the house, shoes come off and hands get washed. I like to think that all of my years spent worrying about germs when I didn’t need to be, were fantastic training for when I actually needed to be concerned.
When I was diagnosed with IBD, I was hesitant to get on a biologic because of my fear of being immunosuppressed. I’m an elementary school teacher and when I started on Remicade infusions, my son was only six. I basically spend my day in a Petri dish. Dealing with the symptoms of IBD was more than enough–how on Earth would I be able to handle that plus avoid picking up viruses at school and in public?
Taking steps to be proactive
After I got sick on the second day of school last fall, I decided that washing my hands frequently wasn’t going to cut it. I have always been a frequent hand washer, especially at school, but I needed more protection. At first, I was nervous about how others would perceive me. There were a lot of confused looks by coworkers and students when I would politely decline to use someone else’s pen. I started carrying a pen with me everywhere to ensure I wouldn’t have to use a communal pen. Now people know that I always have “my” pen with me and that I don’t share it with others.
Another thing I’m very careful about is touching door handles and knobs, especially the door to the main office. The main office is where you can find the school’s health room, where every sick kid passes through. I either wait for someone else to come and open the door, or I use a barrier such as a paper towel to open it and then wash my hands right away.
I never touch my face and I keep my phone in a plastic bag (quart size bags work great!) so that I keep school germs at school. Kids are definitely puzzled by that last one, but I explain that I need to keep germs away as much as possible, and if I need to touch my phone then my phone gets the germs on it so I protect it with a plastic bag.
Worrying less what others thought and making my needs a priority
I really needed to stop caring about what others think and prioritize my health. One of the most surprising things to me was that people really don’t understand what immunosuppression means. Some people think I’m just a paranoid germaphobe even after I’ve explained that I’m immunosuppressed. They don’t understand that a simple cold for them, can mean days of sick leave for me due to a secondary infection. Or a fun day swimming in the bay can mean a bacterial infection for me that lasts for weeks and causes symptoms similar to a bad flare.
Yes, it is mentally exhausting to worry about immunosuppression on top of all the other things chronic illness brings. Plus being a teacher. Plus being a mom.
As much as I hate getting sick, the worst part for me is missing out on doing fun things with my son. Somehow my body knows when we have something fun planned and chooses those times to conk out on me. When I’m lying on the couch at home feeling sorry for myself while my husband and son are at a friend’s New Year’s Eve party or Memorial Day BBQ (both events I missed this year), I try to remind myself that Remicade is what allows me to lead a relatively normal life and be able to do things like go sledding with my son on a snow day and take him Trick or Treating. I couldn’t do those things when I was in a bad flare before treatment and definitely can appreciate them more now. I just make sure shoes come off and hands are washed right when we get home.
Self-love. Self-care. These phrases tend to be thrown around quite often these days. At times they just sound like trendy buzzwords. But, they are important topics nonetheless.
Do you ever pause during your day-to-day routine and think about how you’re really doing—physically, psychologically and emotionally? When you live with a chronic illness like Crohn’s disease, taking time to honor all that you do to merely function and keep up with the general population is worth recognizing.
It’s not easy to be in constant battle with your body. It’s a challenge to feel pain often. It’s exhausting to always have a worry and a wonder in the back of your mind about how you’re going to navigate and overcome the next hurdle or setback thrown your way. This is why self-love is so important.
So, here’s my call of action to you. Rather than focus on all we’re unable to do or all that we struggle to do, it’s time we celebrate and recognize everything we CAN do. We are so much more than patients. We are people. It’s easy to wish about a life of perfect health, but despite how my disease has ravaged my small intestine and led to pain elsewhere in my body—whether it’s in my joints or from the osteoporosis in my back—I still manage to get up each day and live a very full life, with a perspective I never would have gained without this journey.
Since being diagnosed, this body of mine has still served me well. I managed to work full-time and live out my dream of working in television for the first ten years I had Crohn’s. I trained for and ran in 5ks, 10ks, 15ks and a half-marathon. I felt completely healthy and on top of the world on my wedding day (didn’t have one bathroom break!). My body was a safe haven for my children throughout pregnancy and allowed me to bring a healthy son and daughter into this world.
It’s those “accomplishments”, those big “wins” I choose to focus on. It’s the moments when I felt like my peers. It’s the times Crohn’s wasn’t top of mind and I felt like everyone else. It’s when I felt invincible if only for a moment, whether it was crossing the finish line or holding my babies on my chest for the first time. It’s the victories along the way that help me push through on the difficult days and through the flares. Because while those times push me to the brink of breaking, I tell myself there’s only one option—and that’s to bounce back.
I’ve been that girl staring in the mirror wondering ‘why me’. I’ve been that girl with tears falling onto my thighs as I sat on the toilet hating that I had this dreadful disease. I’ve stood in the shower and watched the water hit my resection wounds and felt ashamed that my body was no longer scar-free. I’ve been all those things—but as the years go on and as my diagnosis days get further and further in the rearview mirror, that girl who wondered ‘why me’ is becoming a distant memory. That girl is now a woman, a mother, a wife and so much more. Crohn’s is a part of who I am, but it’s far from my identity.
By altering your outlook and your perspective and loving the person you are and the body you have—despite the physical and emotional scars left behind from past battles—you open yourself up to self-love. Pat yourself on the back for all the steps you’ve taken to rise up. Smile through the tears with the confidence in knowing you will get through this—one day, sometimes one hour at a time.
It’s ok to have bad days. It’s ok to struggle. That’s all part of it. Just make sure you give some extra care, love and attention to the person you see looking back in the mirror. You’ve been through a lot. And you’re still here. Fighting. Living. Breathing. Now all you have to do is believe in your strength and love yourself for your resilience.
We walked out of the automatic rotating doors of the hospital and the cold air hit my face. I looked up to the sky in thanks, to show my gratitude and to take in the moment. We had our baby girl in tow, our Sophia Shea. It was a brisk January morning. Tears filled my eyes as I was overcome with emotion. Our rainbow baby is here, safe and sound. Another pregnancy behind me, a pregnancy that silenced my Crohn’s disease and provided sweet reprieve from my chronic illness. It was time to take Sophia home and start our life as a family of four.
When your health is taken from you and when you receive a diagnosis of inflammatory bowel disease, life prior to illness often feels like a distant memory. There’s something so sacred and so special about bringing a healthy life into this world, despite your own shortcomings.
My Sophia, much like my sweet son Reid, are my inspiration and motivation to push through the difficult days and find strength and perspective within myself. The creation of their lives has renewed my faith in my own body. Each time I have a procedure or deal with painful symptoms, I see their faces, I say their names in my head, and it brings me a sense of calm. My goal when Reid was born, was to stay out of the hospital until he could walk, luckily that’s been the case. He’ll be two in March. Now, I have that same goal following the arrival of my daughter.
Pregnancy and child birth bring about such an amazing, miraculous transformation. You see life created right before your eyes. You experience a shift in your own identity. There’s nothing like it. There are no words to capture the emotions and the overwhelming love you feel for your children.
Finding the balance: Motherhood and IBD
Motherhood and IBD can be a difficult and challenging balance. Some days the fatigue and symptoms are so debilitating you feel like you’re falling short. At the same time, the days where you’re feeling well, remind you that you are so much more than your disease. Just because you have a chronic illness, doesn’t mean you are robbed of experiencing the beauty of life and what it feels like to have your very own family.
Women often reach out to me with questions regarding fertility, conceiving, pregnancy and what it’s like to take on parenting while battling IBD. There are so many unknowns. I know it can be daunting. It all starts with recognizing where you are in your patient journey and then determining when your symptoms and body are in the best shape to get pregnant. While everyone’s disease experience is different—the worries, concerns and fears associated with parenting and chronic illness are often the same. Always know you are never alone. Communicating these feelings with those around you, makes all the difference. Lean on our patient community and all those who’ve lived your reality.
I treated my pregnancies the same. I had colonoscopies prior to trying, to ensure I did not have active disease. Once I received that green light, I discussed my game plan with my OB, high risk OB and my GI and had monthly and sometimes weekly appointments. Each time—I stayed on my medication and vitamins from start to finish, which includes the biologic drug, Humira. I had scheduled c-sections for both. It’s all about finding what works for you, what brings you comfort as you embark on this journey and being confident in your decisions. It’s your body. It’s your baby.
When Sophia Shea entered the world January 14, 2019, our family received a wonderful gift. Between our son Reid and our baby girl, we could not be more blessed. My chronic illness has given me such an appreciation for health and for life in general. With the pregnancies behind me, I often reflect on where I started back at age 21 in 2005. At that time, in my eyes, I was Natalie and I had Crohn’s disease. There was no telling what my future would hold. Now, nearly 14 years later, at age 35, I’m so much more. I’m a mom to two under two. I’m a wife. I’m a daughter. I’m a sister. I’m an aunt. I’m a friend. And I also have Crohn’s.
I recently met a 15-year-old girl who was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. Like many parents of teens newly diagnosed with inflammatory bowel disease, her mom reached out to me for words of advice and comfort. It’s not too often that upon learning this news and connecting with families that I get to meet both the parent and teen in the same room, at the same time.
Maybe this can be chalked up to pregnancy hormones. Maybe it was because my heart hurt for her. It was probably both. But, I kept getting emotional looking at her and talking to her. My eyes welled up with tears because without her saying a word, I felt and could see her pain. In that moment, I felt like I had time traveled back to the first few months of my diagnosis.
I felt the loneliness and isolation she was feeling, even though she was in a roomful of people. I watched as we ate dinner and she quietly sauntered in the hallway, behind the kitchen table to make her way to the bathroom…more than six times in less than an hour. I listened as people questioned why she wasn’t eating…and told her to get ready for dessert. Her mom telling us as she was in the bathroom that she’d dropped four pounds in the last week and only had an Ensure to drink that day. I told everyone to stop talking about food and allow her to come into the kitchen when she felt ready. I remember all too well how it feels when people are watching you like a hawk, questioning every morsel you put down your throat. Food and the relationship we have with it while taking on IBD and navigating familial relationships and friendships can feel like psychological warfare.
She pulled her mom to the side after she overheard her telling me about her medical issues and told her not to tell anyone. I touched her arm and with tears in my eyes, I quietly told her I’ve had Crohn’s for more than 13 years…and that I understood how she felt. I pointed to my 18-month-old running around and to my baby bump and told her that if she wanted a family in her future, it was still possible, despite her disease.
Oftentimes, it can be difficult to connect with teenagers, because they seem guarded and are private about their disease. For many, it’s still a top-secret part of who they are. I get it. I took me nearly a decade to share that I had Crohn’s disease with the world. There’s no sense in rushing anybody. We all find the time that is right. We all know when we feel strong enough physically, mentally and emotionally to open ourselves up to questions, opinions and thoughts from those around us. It’s completely normal to want to keep others (especially strangers) at arm’s length, because during those impressionable young years, you don’t want to be seen as different. You know the moment you say, “I have IBD.”… it’s truly your reality. Your identity, how people view you…it’s all forever changed.
A message for parents
Parents—I know it must be SO difficult to feel like you’re on the outside looking in at your child in debilitating pain as they deal with the burden of a lifelong disease for which there is no cure. If this is a “new” disease to you and your family, you probably feel overwhelmed by all the information on the internet, what you’re hearing from specialists and what is best for your child. Lean on people like me, who live your child’s reality. Ask us the questions. Talk to us about how it feels. Equip yourself with knowledge and understanding so you can get acclimated to life with chronic disease in your family, just as your child needs to. It’s a learning process for every person in the family. Have patience. I know it sucks. I know there are times you just feel like screaming from the tallest mountain… “WHY IS THIS HAPPENING!!!???” I know you are reminiscing back to when life seemed so simple. When health was never in question. There’s no use in romanticizing the past.
You must embrace your new normal and be a pillar of strength for your child. If they see you waver, if they see you upset and frantic, that will directly impact how they feel. Communicate with your child and see if they’d like to talk with someone else who is living with Crohn’s disease or ulcerative colitis. If not now, maybe later. The IBD family is strong, resilient and welcoming…and we’re not going anywhere.
Imagine being hospitalized with a Crohn’s disease flare. Now, close your eyes and picture yourself in Germany, surrounded by doctors and nurses who don’t speak English. You have your husband and children, but other than that…all your family and friends are thousands of miles overseas. That was the case for my college friend, Brittany Cable. Brittany was diagnosed with Crohn’s in 2007, about a year after she had her oldest son.
It’s one thing to take on IBD and be surrounded by family and friends who you can lean on for support, it’s an entirely different situation when you have to take on your disease in a foreign place, with nowhere to turn. Luckily, Brittany is now back in the States, with a strong support system nearby.
As an IBD mom, Brittany flared after all three of her pregnancies. While she was pregnant, her disease was well-controlled. She was able to bring three, beautiful, healthy babies into this world—despite her own health issues.
Throughout her patient journey these past 11 years, Brittany has been on Asacol, Lialda, Uceris, Humira and Entyvio. The prednisone bursts and tapers have been difficult—to say the least. At one point, she was on 80 mg a day! To anyone who has been on prednisone, you know that’s a monster amount. After my initial diagnosis, I was on 60 mg for three months, so I can attest firsthand about how much of a struggle that presents due to all the side effects.
Brittany is a super-mom in every sense of the word. She’s now a single mom, raising three children, as she takes on Crohn’s. She works full time and has full custody of her children. She does this all alone. I’ve known Brittany for 16 years. She’s always been a super strong person with a great sense of humor. Despite the hardships and heartbreak through her life, she’s never allowed the difficult moments to dull her spirit. She tells it like it is and isn’t ever shy when it comes to sharing her story. I’ve always admired that about her.
As Brittany says, the constant fatigue, body and joint aches are what she struggles with the most now. Every day after work, she is tired and wants to crawl in bed, but she knows her kids depend on her and need her. She knows dinner needs to be made and soccer, swimming and other activities have to be attended. It’s one thing to be a single mom and have your health—I can’t imagine living her reality and doing it all on her own. But she does. And her kids have thrived because of her herculean efforts to be there and be present, every single hour, of every single day.
So how does she do it? Brittany says, “When I think about my journey so far, I figure if I made it through having three kids, living in a foreign country and my husband leaving… all while managing Crohn’s disease, there isn’t any thing I can’t do. Every time I get a stomachache, I still fear that something horrible is about to happen, but I think that’s normal for all of us on this journey. So I take everything that comes my way one day at a time. My children will not suffer if I don’t make a home cooked meal every night. Sandwiches or pizza are okay!”
When Brittany’s husband left her and their children, she was sure the stress and drama of it all was going to throw her disease in a tailspin. But it didn’t! Instead, the hardship has empowered her to trust in her faith and seek counseling. She chooses to tell herself everyday that she is stronger than her disease and even if it attacks again, she knows she will get through it. And I know she will, too. Because that’s Brittany.