Crohn's Chronicles: A blog about Crohn's Disease

I think about this pretty constantly. Is "mind over matter" really a thing? Is it really possible to outsmart your body? If so, is this a useful tool? Or is it a harmful lie? Is it just kind of a white lie? Also, (and this is what the whole thing really boils down to for me) is the mind actually separate from the body? Are we our bodies or are we our minds? Do the two have to be mutually exclusive? Or are the mind and the body actually one and the same? My opinion on this subject has changed drastically and regularly over the years. Early on, right after my diagnosis, I was firmly ensconced in the pro-mind-over-matter camp. Without ever thinking about an alternative, ironically. Actually, this started long before I was diagnosed. For at least a year leading up to my official diagnosis, I experienced intense health issues and paid very little real attention to them. I just kept on going as best I could, thinking these symptoms would go away eventually. This, obviously, did n...

Check out this super fancy word cloud for my last post of the month. It pretty much speaks for itself, I think. Although, I do think it's interesting that Crohn's is so tiny (it's up at the top). I essentially just plugged in my blog's URL and and let it come up with whatever. I'm wondering if this means I need to actually say Crohn's more often. It is in really big letters at the top of my page, though. So... who knows? Also, I clearly say "like" way too often. Good to know.

So, I noticed something today. I was in the grocery store stocking up on end-of-semester snack foods with my brother and I glanced at my hands. Specifically, the palms of my hands. Do you know what I found? Color. My palms were pink. This may not make sense to some of you. Let me explain. Because of Crohn's, I've been severely anemic for the last several years. One way to tell (without a blood test) if you're anemic is if your palms are pink. I learned this when I went to my current doctor for the first time and he asked to look at my (super pale) palms. He then told me, with impressive accuracy, what my hemoglobin count was. I've been feeling really great recently. Not perfect, of course. There are still rough days, but the good far outnumbers the bad. It's been nearly two years since that doctors visit, and my hands being pink again just seems like such a tangible demonstration of the progress that's taken place in that time. Pretty cool.

Today, I'm supposed to list five challenges and five victories having to do either with my health or my activism. Let's just dive right in. Challenges 1) ...  ...  ... Okay, I'm having a little trouble here. While I understand the value of identifying five challenges and five victories, I'm not sure I can. No, that's not true. I absolutely can. I just think that anything I say will be kind of arbitrary.

A tagline , huh? Well, I really enjoy the one I have up now: Because Sh*! Happens. It might be overused, but I like it. I think it sets pretty much the exact mood I look for in my blog. It's just a little profane. It's honest. It's funny. I was going to try and come up with another one, but I'm deciding as I'm writing this that I'm sticking with it. So there.

Alright, I'm very wary of this , but I'm going to give it my best. It was finally happening. After months of feeling awful, Maggie was finally going to the doctor. Or maybe it had been years. Who knew? She couldn't even identify what health felt like anymore, all she knew was that something had to change and this felt like the first step. She sat in the backseat of her aunt and uncle's car on the way to the hospital, (she couldn't even get herself together to make it to the appointment on her own) wondering what the doctor would be like. Her experience with gastroenterologists had not been great so far. "Clearly," she thought. "Just look at the mess I'm in." But as she walked in, she knew this guy was different. The office was comfortable and soothing. Copies of the New Yorker sat on an end table between two cushioned chairs. Maggie walked up to the counter where the nurse sat and said she was there for her 9am appointment. The nurse ha...

I'm going a little off script today. The official prompt is to name a mascot, and I think we all know that I would just spend another post talking about Myrtle. (Because she's pretty much my mascot already.) I've done that a lot recently, though, and what I have to say today is something new. So, strap in. After writing my Gloria Steinem post yesterday, I've been thinking even more about the importance of names. I've also been thinking about one specific name that we in the Crohn's community often use to describe ourselves.  Crohnie.