Update: For the first time since surgery, I can honestly say that I feel okay. Before, I was feeling "better" but that just meant less bad. I have been eating like no other and the hard work has paid off. A couple days ago I went to CVS and raided the candy aisle. I couldn't eat artificial flavoring when I had UC so I couldn't wait to get my hands on some sour straws. Today I broke 100 pounds and I will have to be vigilant not to lose it again. I've started eating a cup of ice cream every day. I think it has helped. Yesterday my dad graciously drove my sister and me to Yosemite for the day. It was my first big excursion and I survived. Yosemite is my favorite place in the world so being able to go there for the first time since I got sick was really special.
Back to the Saga
Earlier in the spring semester, I had asked my parents to come out to see me. I had grown very close to them when I was on medical leave because I felt like they had saved me in a way. They had truly been model parents and I couldn't have done without their support. First, my sister came to stay in my medical single - perfectly equipped for a sibling sleepover - and my parents followed a week later. I wanted someone to be with me for a couple days, live my life and tell me how sick I was. At that point, I had no idea. I knew that I could function under challenging circumstances and I worried that maybe I was sicker than I estimated. Well, I was right. I couldn't even deal with having my sister stay with me. It became clear that I had been constantly been living on the edge of a meltdown and having to account for a person visiting was not something I could do. When I asked her for her opinion, she just said, “Well, most people wouldn’t be in school the way you are. I think you should have surgery.”
It was also clear how incredibly stressful my state was on my family. My mom ended up crying in a coffee shop near campus as we rehashed my choices because things were so wrong. Over Easter break, two weeks before surgery was scheduled, we all went on a weekend trip. Leaving my Georgetown world made my condition even more blatantly obvious. I didn't feel well enough to do anything other than sit around and I just wasn't myself. I had become someone else, someone more calm, better at listening and more relaxed, but not me; someone without energy or vivacity.
When I wrote out a pros and cons list with my sister, the pro side was three times as long. I even had to add "scar" to the con side to make it longer, which hardly even counts because I am looking forward to telling tall tales about a knife stabbing. My dad had always been hesitant to encourage me to choose surgery since, with the same disease, he had avoided surgery and is now in full remission. When I asked him what he thought and he told me he thought surgery was the next step, I started to commit. But I still wasn't finished! 12 days before surgery was scheduled, I saw Dr. Charabaty at Georgetown for one last doctor’s visit. She confirmed that surgery was the logical conclusion and told me I had been through enough. On the way home from the hospital, I ran into a close friend and he asked me how I was. Usually I can keep it together, but I just started crying and I had no why idea. He got to the root of it and helped me realized that I was overwhelmed by how much my life was about to change. But, he reminded me, it would be a really good change! Then I spoke with Dr. Hosseini from Berkeley. I felt particularly attached to him because I felt like he had saved me (in addition to my parents) in the fall. I trusted him and I remembered when he had told me he had never had an outpatient (someone not hospitalized) have surgery. Would I be the first?
(Sidenote: My mom told me that during one of my ER visits over my weeks of complications, on such high doses of morphine that I myself don't remember, I kept saying, "I just want Dr. Hosseini! I just want Dr. Hosseini!" Sweet, huh?)
I reviewed the events of the spring and Dr. Hosseini told me that surgery was for the best. He told me he thought I would be happier. I had always appreciated how he considered my general state, not only my symptoms. I got off the phone and I felt a huge weight lifted. It was over. Although I had professed to various friends at various times how "done" I was with UC over the course of the spring semester, I always rallied back and kept fighting. This time I really was donezo donezo. Suddenly my symptoms didn't seem that bad. 12 more days! That was like nothing. I had already finished my four final papers and I had a week to study for just two finals. It was the easiest finals period ever and I was done before everyone else started. I felt happy and I couldn't wait to go under the scalpel. The rest is history!
I went back to see Dr. Hosseini a few weeks after the first surgery because he told me to come by. The receptionists and nurses were so happy to see me as they admired how much healthier I looked. When I spoke with Dr. Hosseini, I just grinned and told him that my life had changed around. He smiled back and we reveled in the wonders of medicine. You want to take out your colon, replace it with the end of the upper intestine and live with a bag for two months? You must be crazy! Nope.
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| During our Easter trip: the last time I wore a bathing suit with no scar! |
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| 6 weeks after the first surgery, I can slowly walk short distances and I got to the top of Miller Falls in Tuolomne Meadows, Yosemite. |
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| My sister and I in Yosemite. My cheeks have gotten a little chubby from prednisone, surprise. |
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