The strange, scary, demoralising world in which you are a prisoner of your own emotions.
A stressful situation, an exam, was all it took to put my colon into a full-blown flare.
On the toilet, you can smell the blood. Don’t even have to look. Of course I do look, it’s what we’re taught to do, so we can describe it to the doctor appropriately.
Once it gets to this stage it doesn’t usually calm down without steroids. I’m not going to take those again, they make me suicidal.
I can’t help but think, what if I hadn’t had this exam, I’d still be fine. Maybe. But stress would find me, whatever I was doing, at some point.
I’ve known for the past few years it’s not so much a question of ‘if’ surgery now, but ‘when’.