Well hello, Colitis.
I wish we never met, but here we are – 7 years and counting. I didn't realize that you were never going away. Akala ko mawawala ka rin. It was July 2014 when I first "met" you – you revealed yourself in the most glamorous way – in the form of bloody diarrhea. Did I get a stomach bug? Do I have hemorrhoids? Did I accidentally swallow a razor blade, and it was ripping my insides? Where is the blood coming from, and why me?
Growing up in the Philippines, I ate whatever my mother and grandparents would prepare for the family. Our usual meals were sinigang na baboy, beef steak, pork barbecue, pancit, and Pinoy spaghetti. My favorite meryenda (afternoon snack) was pandesal (a traditional Filipino bread) or whatever junk food was around the house, paired with Coke. As I got older, I became more adventurous with food and beverages, swapping traditional dishes for pasta or sushi, Coke for wine and, instant coffee for a Starbucks Cafe Mocha. When I moved to California, I incorporated salads and smoothies into my diet, started taking my coffee black, and I learned how to enjoy yoga and walking for fitness. Overall I thought I had transitioned into a healthier lifestyle - or so I thought.
My symptoms started to appear just before my 40th birthday. At the time, I've already been living in California for eight years. It was also my 17th year in the hospitality industry. My daily diet and routine were a quirky mix of copious amounts of coffee, an emotion-soothing pastry, 8 hours of work stress, 30 minutes of walking, and a glass or two of wine (as my end-of-day reward). I drank a lot of water, ate fruits and veggies, and got a sufficient amount of sleep. I rarely ate junk food or fast food, nor did I drink soda or other sugary beverages. I also didn't smoke - (but I did for 19 years until I quit cold turkey when I got married). So how did this happen? Was it my diet, my lifestyle, or was it hereditary?
I found myself Googling "what causes bloody stools" and "illnesses associated with bloody stools" only to be sucked into all these different sites, trying to figure out what suitable explanation fits my symptoms. The only thing I could think of was, my stressful job and my above-average coffee-gluten-wine consumption were factors that probably caused the bleeding. No one in my family has experienced the same symptoms, so it wasn't something I got from my parents or grandparents.
The answer I was waiting for came after I had my colonoscopy. "Ulcerative Colitis," the doctor said. Oh man, not THAT one. I've read about Colitis, and no cure has been found for it yet. So what now? My doctor prescribed Mesalamine - a non-steroidal, anti-inflammatory drug to help control my flare-ups. She also gave me a guide on trigger foods - gluten and dairy were the ones that stood out on that list. That week, I spent most of my time researching foods that I should avoid; I started reading labels and cleaning out our pantry of things that were not gut-friendly. "I'll eat whatever you eat - we'll do this together; that way, you won't feel alone," my husband Jerry said as I was writing down our grocery list.
Jerry was my rock. He made sure I was always comfortable and safe as I walked into this new unknown territory of my life. Jerry researched as much as I did on Colitis and sometimes was even ahead of me when reading about other people's experiences on the disease. I'm so relieved that he didn't have any qualms about joining me on my new diet. He didn't mind that I banished wheat from our home. Most importantly, he was not disgusted by my frequent trips to the bathroom and the sensory experiences that came along with it.
Ulcerative Colitis is an embarrassing, frustrating, and exhausting disease to have. And because it's not as well-known as other diseases - especially amongst my Filipino family and friends, I found myself having to explain my illness over and over.
And this is how Dear Colitis came to be.
I want to share how it is to live with this condition - a balancing act in a multi-cultural setting; share the good days and the bad, and share the hits and misses. When you're struggling with this disease, nothing is more comforting than being heard and being understood.
I hope that by sharing my voice, I can summon others to share theirs too. That could be you.