Digging in the Archives: Emails I wrote following my Crohn’s diagnosis in 2005

When I started my blog, Lights, Camera, Crohn’s, four years ago, my main mission was to be the voice I desperately needed to hear upon diagnosis. As I reflect on my 15 year diagnosis anniversary, I thought it may be helpful to give you a behind the scenes look at some of my email archives from 2005…days after finding out I had Crohn’s disease. I’ve never shown these to anyone (other than the recipients, of course!)…but my hope is that in sharing private feelings, you’ll be able to see how my perspective about life with IBD has shifted and evolved since I was a 21-year-old girl feeling up against the wall with nowhere to turn.

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Photos taken in May 2005 (prior to diagnosis) and September 2005 (while on 60 mg of prednisone).

This article is dedicated to the newly diagnosed. We’ve all been in your shoes. What you’re thinking. What you’re feeling. What you’re struggling with. We get it. It’s not fair to compare where you are in coping to someone like me who has been dealing with Crohn’s for 15 years and been in remission for nearly five.

Here are snippets from my emails to friends. Reading the pain in my words and re-living this difficult time can be a trigger, but reflecting and seeing how far I’ve come is also incredibly empowering.

“I’m having a really hard time with this, harder than I ever could have imagined or dreamed…and I’m having a hard time trying to act like everything is great on the exterior. I feel like I’m on the brink of a breakdown…the drugs are getting to me so much. I woke up with visible shakes this morning and have been shaking all day. My moods aren’t me. I feel like I am a different person and that as much as I want to be the old Natalie, it’s just so hard to wake up smiling and happy. I’m getting tired of my family constantly asking me if I’m doing ok and feeling ok and everyone staring at me while I eat…I just feel like a pity case to so many people. I feel so alone in all this. I’m trying to be upbeat…and I know that it is going to take time to get acclimated to the lifestyle changes and everything, but right now I’m just having a difficult time figuring out who I am and where I’m supposed to be in life. The insomnia has left me up every night just thinking and wondering what the future holds and if I am ever going to feel normal again.”

“I try so hard to be strong and tough about this and it just all stays bottled up and I just started crying and am having a hard time stopping. It’s just so hard. I look at pictures and think back to even graduation time and it just freaks me out that I went from living a carefree, healthy life…to this. I know it is something that I will always have and that I have to get used to it…but it’s hard for me to handle at times. I don’t mean to complain or worry you or anything, I just feel as though I need to get out some of this frustration before I go to bed. I’m scared of getting sick again and having to go in the hospital sometime again…and I just feel like I can’t go a day without a thinking about all the what ifs. You know I analyze so much…haha…it’s like a living nightmare!”

“I’m sorry if I talk about this too much. I’m sure it isn’t the most appealing or attractive thing to have to hear from your gf…but sometimes it becomes a little overbearing on me…and I can’t hide my fears when it does. I mean I refuse to let this change who I am and the life I will lead, it’s just at times it seems so much bigger than me, and so much larger than life. I know I have been complaining a lot about my puffy cheeks and stuff…and I know that prob gets old…I just get so self-conscious about it…and it just sucks that I have exactly 2 more months left on the steroid. As my dosage gets lower and lower the side effects should stop and start to go away…I’ll believe it when I see it!  I guess it’s just scary to me to see the effects of a drug that are helping me on the inside and hurting me on the outside. I just want to look the same to you as I did the last time you saw me.”

“What I won’t ever apologize for is this summer, because I was going through a living hell, and I saw which friends were there for me and which weren’t. I was ridiculously ill from June 5th-my bday (August 24) and you were angry with me for not keeping in touch. I couldn’t even stand to get myself a glass of water for weeks and was hospitalized for days. I never heard anything from you. I know that people handle those types of situations differently… but that was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through in my life, and I really needed a strong support system. Battling with a disease and feeling like I completely lost myself has made me have to be a little selfish these past few months. I’m just coming to grips with it all now and thank God I’m feeling well…but it is still an adjustment and has given me a complete different perspective on life.”

You guys. I’m sitting here crying. I’m that girl. I wrote those words. That was 15 years ago and thinking about that time still feels like a knife in my chest. Even though this disease has enabled me to gain so much gratitude and perspective, it still robbed me of a lot. It still hurts…sometimes more emotionally than physically these days since I’m in remission. These diagnosis anniversaries stir up a lot of memories. While I choose to think of it as a time to celebrate another year of taking this disease on with all the strength I can muster, it’s also a time that takes me back to some of the most challenging and difficult moments in my life.

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I colored this in my hospital bed after being diagnosed with Crohn’s.

I wish I could hug that girl and tell her it was going to be alright. The career, the love, the family…it would all happen. If you’re in that difficult space right now coming to terms with your newfound identity following diagnosis or getting over a flare up, please know this disease ebbs and flows. It’s not a constant. The good and the bad moments are fleeting, but your resilience and your confidence in coping becomes so much a part of who you are, it’s hard to recognize who you were before.

Celebrating a major patient victory: Citrate-free Humira

I still remember the first time I felt the pain. Sitting in my GI’s office with the nurse and my mom. Fresh out of the hospital after having an abscess the size of a tennis ball in my small intestine. Knowing I had to inject myself with a painful biologic drug, four times in a row, for the loading dose. The feeling when the medication entered my body was like nothing I had ever felt before. It was an unthinkable amount of pain. It was overwhelming knowing that for the rest of my life, I would endure this same pain, multiple times a month…with no end in sight.

Fast forward more than ten years later. A total of 122 months, hundreds of injections. My reality as a Crohn’s patient just changed. IMG_2966It changed in a way that I never knew was possible. I have so many flashbacks of my journey with Humira. The tears as I felt sickly in my 20s sitting alone in my apartment and wondering why me. The dread, anxiety and anticipation every other Monday and the strength I had to muster up within myself to once again receive my medication. Holding the injection in my hand, getting in the zone and focusing my thoughts on brave family members and friends as I held down the plum colored button and felt the burn. The sad look on my son’s face as he looked in my eyes and witnessed his mama hurting.

Now, all this is a distant memory. Thanks to the Citrate-free formula developed by AbbVie and approved for adults and pediatric patients in the United States, this reality is over. A matter of days ago, I experienced my first pain free Humira injection. I had heard all the hype and excitement around it, but it was so difficult to fathom such a change in my patient experience. Here’s a video of me experiencing my first Citrate-free injection:

I’m here to tell you it’s completely painless. Less pain than a blood draw. Less than a flu shot. You feel nothing. The process, effectiveness and outcome are the same, but you don’t feel anything. It’s emotional and overwhelming in the best way. I cried for a good half hour after my first one, happy tears. Tears of joy from a woman who now knows her children will never see their mom struggle in pain. Tears of joy from someone whose eternally grateful for a medication that keeps a painful and debilitating chronic illness at bay. Tears of joy knowing that I will never have to feel that awful pain again. A pain that’s too much to put into words, that was part of my life for so long.

The sun is shining a bit brighter today. I feel a load has been lifted off my shoulders that I didn’t even realize had been there for more than 10 years. When I heard about the Citrate-free formula being approved and available in the States, I was excited—but, didn’t realize the true extent of what a difference it would make in my life. joy-2483926_1920

If you’re on Humira and living in the States, make sure you talk with your GI and specialty pharmacy to ensure your script is changed to “Citrate-free”. The extra leg work will be so worth it. It brings me so much happiness to know that young children on Humira will never have to feel the pain. It gives me peace of mind as a chronic illness patient to know that developments like this in treatment are possible and happening right now.

My call of action to doctors, specialists, healthcare teams and specialty pharmacies—please communicate this with patients. I’ve heard from countless people around the United States who heard about this for the first time from me. That’s not the way it should be. My GI gave me a heads up three months ago.

Fellow patient advocates, please feel empowered to share what this means to you and reach out to your individual communities and support networks, so people can get the ball rolling and experience this for themselves. Our voices are strong, and word of mouth is powerful.

Humira was approved for Crohn’s in 2006. I started taking the injections in 2008. Now, it’s 2018 and patients in the United States have access to the Citrate-free (pain free) formula. What’s next? Now, we can truly continue to dream.