The original draft for this post was short and sweet. But by default it has turned into another late night/early morning ramble because I can't sleep.
And so we begin...
I made a friend. A friend who was also having to drink TWO JUGS of ridiculous laxative type water: that cleared me out big time. [I just love the accents, 0:32] Cue mini scuffle between the two of us for the toilet.
She was under investigation to see whether she had Crohn's (cheeky opportunity for a blog plug, but also for support to know she's not alone, even though it may sometimes feels like you are.) But meeting her reminded me of how messy your thought patterns are when you're first finding out what's wrong with you. And even now, when you know what's wrong with you, you just need to know *specifically* what's wrong this time.
I know we didn't exchange numbers, but if you are reading this, I hope you're ok and if you need anything please get in touch.
It's crazy when you actually take the time to have a mini-reassessment of how much your life alters when you're diagnosed with Crohn's. Well I'm sure it would for any chronic disease...but I have Crohn's so I couldn't possibly comment on others - I have no experience!
It isn't just the obvious physical side of things that change; symptoms and what not. It's the mental side; how your perspective on things can be so different from what they once were.
When you're going about your daily business and realise that you've already done a mental calculation of where the nearest toilet is, can you get there in time, god I hope there's toilet paper, oh it's fine I have tissues in my bag already. Maybe even some spare knicks...just in case.
Things like that were never something to be concerned about before. But back to my scan...
I got scanned - lying on my stomach, wtf?! Got blurry vision from the injections, said my goodbyes and plodded on (both figuratively and literally).
That's it. I have no more news haha. I am now waiting for the cogs of the NHS to get turning, as I eagerly await what they've found inside me.
I am scared though. I feel like a vain, shallow person too. And I tell you for why!
I was Google imaging (don't) enterocutaneous fistula as I have discovered that this is the medical term for an abdominal fistula, which is intestine to outer skin. And the potential op/healing/management/scarring scares the living shits out of me. It's all just so open! And just, there.
I won't put any pictures on here in case some of you are reading this with your lunch or dinner. Wouldn't want to make you ill!
I already have a few scars on my tum and obviously I would rather feel better, than have less scarring but with aliens inside me. But I just feel like I'm going to need help to essentially cope with how I will look after surgery. It just seems so, I don't know, bleurghhh.
Pfft. My head just seems full again, like it was when I first started my blog back in January; so many questions, not so many answers.
In Other News
Now I'm not sure if I'm being paranoid, but I can pinpoint particular areas of excruciating pain on my tum. Plus the whole bottom-right-hand-side-not-my-actual-bottom-quarter of my stomach still feels incredibly numb. I suppose the best way to describe what it feels like when I touch the numb bit is this...
When you were a child (or a not so sensible adult) and you tied an elastic band around the end of your finger until it went blue. And the you touch things with that finger whilst you wait for the blood to come back. It's like that. You know you're touching it, you can feel it a little. But then also can't really feel anything at all.
So there we are. This week I am on abdominal-surface-busting watch, NHS hunting and trying to find out what happens now.
For a girl like me who loves a bit of organisation in my life, this is not so easy!
X
PS: Sorry-for-all-the-hyphening
PPS: I know I'm all wobbly-brained again; I shed a tear watching Ashley Banjo's Secret Street Crew earlier because it made me miss my dancing days. I'm officially a worried wimp. For the international readers amongst you, to be fair even the UK guys, it is not a show to cry about. Ever.
