I have been “sick” for my entire adult life, probably before then. Now I have a name for what is wrong with me. I had hoped that once someone finally figured out what was wrong with me they would be able to “fix” me. I don’t mind being wrong and I can admit that most of the time when I am. However this time I was hoping for a cure and there isn’t one and I am MAD. I am angry, I am discouraged and I am so tired of feeling sick.
This week I am feeling worse then I usually do. The medication is causing nausea. So severe that it is hard to sleep, hard to concentrate and hard to enjoy anything. No cure an no guarantee treatment is going to work. On a high note I will live, it is not cancer. My children will have me around for the foreseeable future. On a lower note it is not a fun disease with a fun name. It is embarrassing for me actually and has been difficult to deal with before I had a name for it.
Friday I spent the day feeling sorry for myself. Yesterday I tried sleeping and relaxing to help my immune system to get better. Today I laid in bed petting a warm dog to help myself get over the nausea before I got up, it didn’t work. I have accepted my diagnosis. I don’t think it is fair, I am thankful it isn’t worse and hopeful that I will be able to control my symptoms and flare ups. Ulcerative Colitis, UC, I could have went my whole life with never meeting you but thanks though.