Thankful November

There seems to be a thing going around on social media where every day someone writes something they are thankful for this month. The idea is great. Truly it is. I don't have the dedication or attention span to do something every single day like that. I tried the October photo challenge on Instagram and failed miserably. Day 5. Oh, Day 17? Ok.
I will say this for this post. I am thankful for a lot. Despite the shitty hand I've been dealt and continue to get dealt I have some very wonderful things going on. There are so many days it is hard to see them through the fog of pain, the reality of illness and doctor's appointments and focusing on the negative. I'm sick of being tired and in pain. I'm sick of not going to beautiful places and traveling. I miss the salt air. I actually miss working out. I hate running one errand and being wiped out for an entire day. Then there comes a day that pulls the veil and makes everything feel so wonderful and in that moment, I forget I have anything to bitch about to begin with.
As much as I'm thankful that I had many years without so much as a sprained ankle, migraine etc... the last few years have definitely made up for it. So I'm thankful for a pain-free childhood and lived my 20s like I had to burn myself out on purpose.
I have my supportive husband who puts up with all this drama, and me being crabby and in pain, and not fun on many occasions. We don't go on vacation because I suck. Our outings are short lived. I'm pretty useless with heavy lifting situations and I'm usually in a drug induced coma at night if Daughter #2 wakes up. I have two healthy, beautiful, perfect girls. They are goofy and crack me up. I have a great family that I don't see nearly enough because we are scattered all over the country. I have childhood friends that I will always have a bond with and no matter how much time or distance, I know they will always be there.
Since moving to Texas I've met some really great people. I have friends I've met through my kids and through my Husband and I love those couple of gals. They know who they are. I enjoy the sunshine almost everyday, and Daughter #1 loves her school and all her friends. If this state wasn't run by a bunch of conservative, Republican douchebags and was on the ocean it would be perfect.
Specifically, today I am thankful for the internet and my IBD struggle. Yes. Thankful. Friday I got to meet up with a fellow gutsy girl that I met online through a support page. We slowly formed a friendship and we came to realize some similar interests outside of our guts.
Both of us being JFK nuts was one of our common threads. We met to see the movie "Parkland" and seriously it couldn't have been a better way to transition to "real life" friendship. It was like we'd been friends for years. We went to lunch and we probably could have sat there for 3 hours shooting the shit about whatever. And yes, we DID talk about our issues, but the best part is we didn't HAVE to. In fact we talked about that at the very end. After lunch, she left and I wandered around some shops killing time before a doctor's appointment and I realized, at one point, I felt really light. I just felt GOOD. I mean, I was still in pain and what not but I felt this weird sense of completeness I haven't felt in a while. Then it struck me that this was someone that understood me on more levels than anyone I'd met or known in a long time. There wasn't just the our-kids-go-to-school-connection, or the IBD connection, or the our-husbands-know-each-other-connection. It was really that sweet spot of both of us having this illness that brought us together and yet, if that illness disappeared we'd still be cool. It was almost as if you have this friend and then you both get diagnosed with the same thing so you just "get it". But you can still just be because you each understand so you don't need to explain it. I don't know. I hope that makes sense. Whatever I'm saying is, I'm thankful for my IBD and the internet for bringing me to this point where I have this friend I never would have known otherwise. She's not the first "friend" I have now because of my illness, but she's the first I got to meet up with. I had a pretty shitty couple of days around that pocket of a couple of hours, but somehow it wasn't so bad. I won't even get into those details right now. Thanks, Casey. Glad to now really know you in real life, so when I say "my friend" it doesn't just mean a name or face in my laptop. So I'm thankful. =) Have a great day everyone. Happy Birthday to the USMC today and a big thanks to all the Veterans tomorrow.

There seems to be a thing going around on social media where every day someone writes something they are thankful for this month. The idea is great. Truly it is. I don't have the dedication or attention span to do something every single day like that. I tried the October photo challenge on Instagram and failed miserably. Day 5. Oh, Day 17? Ok.
I will say this for this post. I am thankful for a lot. Despite the shitty hand I've been dealt and continue to get dealt I have some very wonderful things going on. There are so many days it is hard to see them through the fog of pain, the reality of illness and doctor's appointments and focusing on the negative. I'm sick of being tired and in pain. I'm sick of not going to beautiful places and traveling. I miss the salt air. I actually miss working out. I hate running one errand and being wiped out for an entire day. Then there comes a day that pulls the veil and makes everything feel so wonderful and in that moment, I forget I have anything to bitch about to begin with.
As much as I'm thankful that I had many years without so much as a sprained ankle, migraine etc... the last few years have definitely made up for it. So I'm thankful for a pain-free childhood and lived my 20s like I had to burn myself out on purpose.
I have my supportive husband who puts up with all this drama, and me being crabby and in pain, and not fun on many occasions. We don't go on vacation because I suck. Our outings are short lived. I'm pretty useless with heavy lifting situations and I'm usually in a drug induced coma at night if Daughter #2 wakes up. I have two healthy, beautiful, perfect girls. They are goofy and crack me up. I have a great family that I don't see nearly enough because we are scattered all over the country. I have childhood friends that I will always have a bond with and no matter how much time or distance, I know they will always be there.
Since moving to Texas I've met some really great people. I have friends I've met through my kids and through my Husband and I love those couple of gals. They know who they are. I enjoy the sunshine almost everyday, and Daughter #1 loves her school and all her friends. If this state wasn't run by a bunch of conservative, Republican douchebags and was on the ocean it would be perfect.
Specifically, today I am thankful for the internet and my IBD struggle. Yes. Thankful. Friday I got to meet up with a fellow gutsy girl that I met online through a support page. We slowly formed a friendship and we came to realize some similar interests outside of our guts.
Both of us being JFK nuts was one of our common threads. We met to see the movie "Parkland" and seriously it couldn't have been a better way to transition to "real life" friendship. It was like we'd been friends for years. We went to lunch and we probably could have sat there for 3 hours shooting the shit about whatever. And yes, we DID talk about our issues, but the best part is we didn't HAVE to. In fact we talked about that at the very end. After lunch, she left and I wandered around some shops killing time before a doctor's appointment and I realized, at one point, I felt really light. I just felt GOOD. I mean, I was still in pain and what not but I felt this weird sense of completeness I haven't felt in a while. Then it struck me that this was someone that understood me on more levels than anyone I'd met or known in a long time. There wasn't just the our-kids-go-to-school-connection, or the IBD connection, or the our-husbands-know-each-other-connection. It was really that sweet spot of both of us having this illness that brought us together and yet, if that illness disappeared we'd still be cool. It was almost as if you have this friend and then you both get diagnosed with the same thing so you just "get it". But you can still just be because you each understand so you don't need to explain it. I don't know. I hope that makes sense. Whatever I'm saying is, I'm thankful for my IBD and the internet for bringing me to this point where I have this friend I never would have known otherwise. She's not the first "friend" I have now because of my illness, but she's the first I got to meet up with. I had a pretty shitty couple of days around that pocket of a couple of hours, but somehow it wasn't so bad. I won't even get into those details right now. Thanks, Casey. Glad to now really know you in real life, so when I say "my friend" it doesn't just mean a name or face in my laptop. So I'm thankful. =) Have a great day everyone. Happy Birthday to the USMC today and a big thanks to all the Veterans tomorrow.

WEGO writing challenge day#23- hasta luego, social media.

Today's prompt--
Write about how your life would change if there was no social media.

Well, firstly I would no longer be able to play word games with high school friends who live across the country that I haven't seen in 18 years. That would lead to me having a lot more free time. Although, they say word games, crosswords etc... keep the mind active, and young and can prevent dementia in later years. So, I like to think of the time I put in to Words with Friends and Scramble with Friends as preventative measures against mental health decline. I am trying not to lose my marbles.  Candy Crush is it's own thing and I refuse to contemplate what it does to my brain. 
Without social media I would not have such an awesome network of IBDers that I know understand my deal. I'd be missing out on connections with old friends that I lost contact with. I may not be married to my husband.  
I love my blog outlet. I love writing it, even though I do tend to slack from time to time. If there was no blogging or tweeting I'd be missing out on other people's stories and may be feeling much more isolated with everything I have gone through. 
I like connecting with people who I would never know, and yet there they are, like friends I've always had. For as much bullshit that is on the internet there are so many more positives. Effortless connections are wonderful. 

Today's prompt--
Write about how your life would change if there was no social media.

Well, firstly I would no longer be able to play word games with high school friends who live across the country that I haven't seen in 18 years. That would lead to me having a lot more free time. Although, they say word games, crosswords etc... keep the mind active, and young and can prevent dementia in later years. So, I like to think of the time I put in to Words with Friends and Scramble with Friends as preventative measures against mental health decline. I am trying not to lose my marbles.  Candy Crush is it's own thing and I refuse to contemplate what it does to my brain. 
Without social media I would not have such an awesome network of IBDers that I know understand my deal. I'd be missing out on connections with old friends that I lost contact with. I may not be married to my husband.  
I love my blog outlet. I love writing it, even though I do tend to slack from time to time. If there was no blogging or tweeting I'd be missing out on other people's stories and may be feeling much more isolated with everything I have gone through. 
I like connecting with people who I would never know, and yet there they are, like friends I've always had. For as much bullshit that is on the internet there are so many more positives. Effortless connections are wonderful. 

WEGO Day #19- Vintage Lisa throwback pic

Today’s Prompt:

• Post a vintage photo of yourself, with a caption about the photo and where you were in terms of your health condition.

The joy of finding a beautiful vintage item is the history behind it, imagining how it was used or worn and cherished by its previous owner. In many ways, vintage items have lived a whole other life before coming into yours. Take this concept and apply it to a vintage photo of yourself. What story does this photo tell about you and your condition? What was your life like when it was taken? How have things changed since then?

I am 'only' 35 so I don't know how vintage I can really be. Maybe to a 15 year old I am but when I think vintage I think the 1940s and 1950s. Pin-up girls and poodle skirts. Glam Hollywood. Red lips and peep toe shoes. 

Anyway, my last laptop crashed and I lost all my pictures because I was an idiot and never backed it up. BACK UP YOUR COMPUTERS EVERYONE! 

This means I lost everything from the second I went to digital. Daughter #1 as a little munchkin, her Kinder field trips, a lot of my illness documentation, pregnancy pics, nights out with friends, family, vacations, my wedding day to Hubs... I have to stop because thinking of it makes me sick to my stomach.

 So it was slim pickings, but here is vintage Lisa. 

It was the St. Patrick's Day parade day in Buffalo 2009. Insanity! We started off with brunch at 1030am at Cole's and literally wandered around bar to bar until we ended back at Cole's for an 11pm meal! I was with a group of people I love and have a blast with and miss so much now that I'm in Texas. I had a job I loved, awesome coworkers, the social life was kicking because I was going through a divorce and perpetually celebrating it. It was the Lisa D variety show!! I was working hard, playing hard and hadn't been diagnosed yet. I was a better mom now that I wasn't with my ex who was destroying my life. Symptoms were still mild where I wasn't worried and hadn't even seen a doctor yet. Life was good. I was starting over and I felt like ANYTHING was possible.  ---->

VERY shortly after this day my life would change, symptoms got worse and I officially became a 'sick' girl. 

Today’s Prompt:

• Post a vintage photo of yourself, with a caption about the photo and where you were in terms of your health condition.

The joy of finding a beautiful vintage item is the history behind it, imagining how it was used or worn and cherished by its previous owner. In many ways, vintage items have lived a whole other life before coming into yours. Take this concept and apply it to a vintage photo of yourself. What story does this photo tell about you and your condition? What was your life like when it was taken? How have things changed since then?

I am 'only' 35 so I don't know how vintage I can really be. Maybe to a 15 year old I am but when I think vintage I think the 1940s and 1950s. Pin-up girls and poodle skirts. Glam Hollywood. Red lips and peep toe shoes. 

Anyway, my last laptop crashed and I lost all my pictures because I was an idiot and never backed it up. BACK UP YOUR COMPUTERS EVERYONE! 

This means I lost everything from the second I went to digital. Daughter #1 as a little munchkin, her Kinder field trips, a lot of my illness documentation, pregnancy pics, nights out with friends, family, vacations, my wedding day to Hubs... I have to stop because thinking of it makes me sick to my stomach.

 So it was slim pickings, but here is vintage Lisa. 

It was the St. Patrick's Day parade day in Buffalo 2009. Insanity! We started off with brunch at 1030am at Cole's and literally wandered around bar to bar until we ended back at Cole's for an 11pm meal! I was with a group of people I love and have a blast with and miss so much now that I'm in Texas. I had a job I loved, awesome coworkers, the social life was kicking because I was going through a divorce and perpetually celebrating it. It was the Lisa D variety show!! I was working hard, playing hard and hadn't been diagnosed yet. I was a better mom now that I wasn't with my ex who was destroying my life. Symptoms were still mild where I wasn't worried and hadn't even seen a doctor yet. Life was good. I was starting over and I felt like ANYTHING was possible.  ---->

VERY shortly after this day my life would change, symptoms got worse and I officially became a 'sick' girl. 

35 and so, so wise from new lessons.

Hello internet friends....
It has been some time. I have had a lot going on and really have had nothing I felt would be slightly entertaining.
I turned 35 the other day. I have stopped counting. I will be 35 next year too. I have found my first grey hair. The fine lines around my eyes are more prominent than ever, despite my religious use of creams and potions and ALWAYS wearing sunglasses so I don't squint. I also wear them because I feel very incognito. You know- I have to throw off the paparazzi that stalk me. ;-)
I don't really like getting older. Well, I don't mind the number changing, but I'm not ready to be old. I'm not ready for anti-aging creams and fine lines. I'm only 25, 30, 35.... And boom, there they are. It doesn't help that I feel like I have lost a few years to UC. I lost my early 30s. To me those are prim years. You are not 'just' in your 20s to those older than you who still see you as a child no matter how much you've accomplished. And you are still far enough from 40 to still be a little stupid, a little crazy and not have people look at you like you don't have your life together because you are 40. You are close to your 20-something body. Your 20-something skin. Instead of having all that wonderful stuff, I had horrible skin and weight gain from prednisone. Moon face, hair falling out in clumps, arthritis, blood transfusions, 10 pills a day and a dozen or so other side effects from the many different meds I was on to try to get this shit (shitting?) under control. Perfect prime real estate of life in the toilet. Down the toilet. In more ways than one.
I know there are people older than me who will say I'm ONLY 35...I know, I know.... but in this moment I want those years back. I can't count how many times I told my daughter 'No' because I was in too much pain, or too much fatigue to play with her. Or that I couldn't go to the park because I was in the freaking bathroom AGAIN, 30 times a day. Up to 45 minutes at a time. In pain. Crying. I remember moments so bad I thought I was dying. I had told my Hubs, I think I'm dying. Begging, crying, wishing it would stop. And my little girl was so disappointed. Every time. Now she wants to know if she'll need her large intestine out. I tell her I hope not. I don't want to just say no and make a false promise. She's 7 now and recalls me always being sick. Missing me when I was in the hospital all those times. Remembering I was always too tired to play. I can't erase that. That bothers me. I call bullshit. Not for me, but for her. No kid should have to deal with that crap. Here's me and my oldest at dinner the other night. She's happy I can actually go to restaurants now and not watch everyone eat or spend it in the WC(water closet). I am too. ---->

In the last few days I've learned that a delicious filet mignon is not worth it. My body is not friends with red meat anymore. My delicious and expensive Birthday dinner made me extremely nauseous for hours. I hadn't felt like that since before surgery. So, no more red meat for me. Except McDonald's because I'm sure it's not real meat and for whatever reason it's the only fast food that has never made me sick in my life.
I've learned that a real, true best friend is hard to come by. One you have 'take to the grave' shit with, and can still laugh about the stuff you did at 15, when you are 35. Laugh until your stomach hurts about how dumb you were, and then five minutes later discuss something mature, like the dumb stuff you did at 30. ;-)
On the flip, I've learned that when you go through something and feel alone for so long, and then find a group of people who know your pain (online, who you'll probably never meet), you have a bond and a friendship that is truly open and non-judging. I've 'met' such great people on some of the Facebook support pages I've found that have made such a difference. It changed me from feeling isolated in my struggle, to wanting to speak out and inform and educate. That is such a great thing. For all the crap that is out there on the internet, it is so amazing when something positive and life impacting, comes from it.
Oh! I took a new 'hidden ostomy' picture from my night out on my Birthday.

 No one would ever think... and I wear whatever I want. As we've seen in my "I have no shame" pictures.
I have also learned that it is possible to have new, wonderful people come into your life in your 30s. Moving was difficult because it is hard to develop new, trusting friendships as you get older, especially because most of the time I have spent in Texas I have been sick. Luckily, my daughter was in Kinder with an awesome little girl who became her friend, and the extension of that is I am lucky to count her mom, Samara, as a friend now. Her kids are pretty fantastic too.

While I was changing my wafer yesterday I had a thought. I was looking at my abdomen and it occurred to me that I don't even notice the stoma anymore. It doesn't jump out at me anymore. It's just there. And then I realized in 2 weeks, I would be having my reversal and my body as I had gotten used to, would change again. It will be less gutting, more putting back together. FrankenBelly getting reworked. So I took a picture. Truly, in days the stoma will be gone. And I got a little sad. I went from being horrified to being sad in a few months???!! What? It's true. My stoma is generally easy. Yes, it can be a pain in the ass (not really, because that is physically impossible) but it's easy. It's smelly when I change the bag (like, whoa) but I have gotten use to the ease of it, and the never needing to poop part of it. That, my friends, is absolute heaven after years of dying a little 30 times a day.
Anyway, I got sad because now I have to get used to something else. Another recovery, another adjustment. Possible J pouch issues, and yes, possible pooping issues.
I will fight through it though... because at this point in life I am used to things most people can't imagine. I'm used to unbearable pain. Uncomfortable tests on modesty erasing body parts. I'm USED to it. No one should ever have to get used to it. My dad was complaining about his ONCE EVERY TEN YEAR Colonoscopy. Yeah- I couldn't even say welcome to my world because I'm pretty sure at one point I had 3 in less than a year. Once every ten!? Perfect!!
So, here's my pic of the abdomen I was worried about hating and then hating and now loving----->

I love my scar. I'm going to love my stoma scar too. I'm winning the war, not just the battle. It was a losing battle until my colectomy. The second my colon came out, I won. Life has been crazy. I think this coming year will be the best I've seen in a very long time. Looking forward to some good stuff. Two weeks from today is my reversal. Let's hope it goes without a hitch. So weird. I'm only going to have a stoma two more weeks. Funny how we adapt and things that seemed so overwhelming and dramatic become normal. I have a stoma. It's normal. Wow- I'm so enlightened now that I'm 35. =)

Thanks for reading.
Gutsy is off to bed.
XO

Hello internet friends....
It has been some time. I have had a lot going on and really have had nothing I felt would be slightly entertaining.
I turned 35 the other day. I have stopped counting. I will be 35 next year too. I have found my first grey hair. The fine lines around my eyes are more prominent than ever, despite my religious use of creams and potions and ALWAYS wearing sunglasses so I don't squint. I also wear them because I feel very incognito. You know- I have to throw off the paparazzi that stalk me. ;-)
I don't really like getting older. Well, I don't mind the number changing, but I'm not ready to be old. I'm not ready for anti-aging creams and fine lines. I'm only 25, 30, 35.... And boom, there they are. It doesn't help that I feel like I have lost a few years to UC. I lost my early 30s. To me those are prim years. You are not 'just' in your 20s to those older than you who still see you as a child no matter how much you've accomplished. And you are still far enough from 40 to still be a little stupid, a little crazy and not have people look at you like you don't have your life together because you are 40. You are close to your 20-something body. Your 20-something skin. Instead of having all that wonderful stuff, I had horrible skin and weight gain from prednisone. Moon face, hair falling out in clumps, arthritis, blood transfusions, 10 pills a day and a dozen or so other side effects from the many different meds I was on to try to get this shit (shitting?) under control. Perfect prime real estate of life in the toilet. Down the toilet. In more ways than one.
I know there are people older than me who will say I'm ONLY 35...I know, I know.... but in this moment I want those years back. I can't count how many times I told my daughter 'No' because I was in too much pain, or too much fatigue to play with her. Or that I couldn't go to the park because I was in the freaking bathroom AGAIN, 30 times a day. Up to 45 minutes at a time. In pain. Crying. I remember moments so bad I thought I was dying. I had told my Hubs, I think I'm dying. Begging, crying, wishing it would stop. And my little girl was so disappointed. Every time. Now she wants to know if she'll need her large intestine out. I tell her I hope not. I don't want to just say no and make a false promise. She's 7 now and recalls me always being sick. Missing me when I was in the hospital all those times. Remembering I was always too tired to play. I can't erase that. That bothers me. I call bullshit. Not for me, but for her. No kid should have to deal with that crap. Here's me and my oldest at dinner the other night. She's happy I can actually go to restaurants now and not watch everyone eat or spend it in the WC(water closet). I am too. ---->

In the last few days I've learned that a delicious filet mignon is not worth it. My body is not friends with red meat anymore. My delicious and expensive Birthday dinner made me extremely nauseous for hours. I hadn't felt like that since before surgery. So, no more red meat for me. Except McDonald's because I'm sure it's not real meat and for whatever reason it's the only fast food that has never made me sick in my life.
I've learned that a real, true best friend is hard to come by. One you have 'take to the grave' shit with, and can still laugh about the stuff you did at 15, when you are 35. Laugh until your stomach hurts about how dumb you were, and then five minutes later discuss something mature, like the dumb stuff you did at 30. ;-)
On the flip, I've learned that when you go through something and feel alone for so long, and then find a group of people who know your pain (online, who you'll probably never meet), you have a bond and a friendship that is truly open and non-judging. I've 'met' such great people on some of the Facebook support pages I've found that have made such a difference. It changed me from feeling isolated in my struggle, to wanting to speak out and inform and educate. That is such a great thing. For all the crap that is out there on the internet, it is so amazing when something positive and life impacting, comes from it.
Oh! I took a new 'hidden ostomy' picture from my night out on my Birthday.

 No one would ever think... and I wear whatever I want. As we've seen in my "I have no shame" pictures.
I have also learned that it is possible to have new, wonderful people come into your life in your 30s. Moving was difficult because it is hard to develop new, trusting friendships as you get older, especially because most of the time I have spent in Texas I have been sick. Luckily, my daughter was in Kinder with an awesome little girl who became her friend, and the extension of that is I am lucky to count her mom, Samara, as a friend now. Her kids are pretty fantastic too.

While I was changing my wafer yesterday I had a thought. I was looking at my abdomen and it occurred to me that I don't even notice the stoma anymore. It doesn't jump out at me anymore. It's just there. And then I realized in 2 weeks, I would be having my reversal and my body as I had gotten used to, would change again. It will be less gutting, more putting back together. FrankenBelly getting reworked. So I took a picture. Truly, in days the stoma will be gone. And I got a little sad. I went from being horrified to being sad in a few months???!! What? It's true. My stoma is generally easy. Yes, it can be a pain in the ass (not really, because that is physically impossible) but it's easy. It's smelly when I change the bag (like, whoa) but I have gotten use to the ease of it, and the never needing to poop part of it. That, my friends, is absolute heaven after years of dying a little 30 times a day.
Anyway, I got sad because now I have to get used to something else. Another recovery, another adjustment. Possible J pouch issues, and yes, possible pooping issues.
I will fight through it though... because at this point in life I am used to things most people can't imagine. I'm used to unbearable pain. Uncomfortable tests on modesty erasing body parts. I'm USED to it. No one should ever have to get used to it. My dad was complaining about his ONCE EVERY TEN YEAR Colonoscopy. Yeah- I couldn't even say welcome to my world because I'm pretty sure at one point I had 3 in less than a year. Once every ten!? Perfect!!
So, here's my pic of the abdomen I was worried about hating and then hating and now loving----->

I love my scar. I'm going to love my stoma scar too. I'm winning the war, not just the battle. It was a losing battle until my colectomy. The second my colon came out, I won. Life has been crazy. I think this coming year will be the best I've seen in a very long time. Looking forward to some good stuff. Two weeks from today is my reversal. Let's hope it goes without a hitch. So weird. I'm only going to have a stoma two more weeks. Funny how we adapt and things that seemed so overwhelming and dramatic become normal. I have a stoma. It's normal. Wow- I'm so enlightened now that I'm 35. =)

Thanks for reading.
Gutsy is off to bed.
XO